The Almighty Dominance

The lounge fell silent, then erupted in disbelief.

"Holy hell! A hundred grand just to make someone bark? That guy must be drowning in money!"

Another man shook his head with a bitter laugh.

"I can't even wrap my head around rich folks. A hundred grand is my whole year's salary. If someone offered me that, I'd bark like a dog for an hour and take the rest of the year off."

Voices rose from the crowd-some in shock, others in envy, amusement, or raw jealousy.

"Start barking!"

"Bark! Bark!"

And in the bark of a dog, they saw their freedom for sale.

One of the smug businessmen leaned forward, his tone sharp and mocking.

"What's wrong, kid? Cat got your tongue? Don't tell me you've never even seen a hundred thousand in cash. Get down on all fours. Bark for it, and it's yours."

Martin's expression darkened instantly. "You dare mock me? You think you can flaunt your wealth in my face?"

He snapped his fingers. His driver, waiting quietly in the corner, stepped forward carrying a sleek black suitcase.

Martin popped it open, revealing stacks of cash.

Without hesitation, he peeled off a bundle, then another, slapping the money across the businessman's face.

Again and again—until the total hit two hundred thousand.

He shoved the last stack at the man. "Two hundred thousand. Double your cheap offer. Now bark, dog."

The lounge gasped. The stakes had doubled.

Martin wasn't about to back down, not with two beautiful women watching. His pride was on the line.

Amanda, one of his companions, raised her voice above the noise.

"Old man, do you even know who you're dealing with? This is Martin! You're humiliating yourself. He's money itself—you can't outbid him."

A young man chimed in quickly, puffed up with arrogance. "Hah! Martin's family has hundreds of millions. You think you can beat him? Keep dreaming."

"Exactly!" another echoed. "Two hundred grand is pocket change to him. Let's see if you can top that, old man!"

The younger crowd erupted in taunts and laughter, their egos blazing, fueling the tension.

The older businessman didn't flinch.

"Foolish brats," he muttered. His eyes narrowed on Martin's suitcase he could tell there was still at least four hundred thousand left inside.

He raised his hand, and one of his workers brought over a heavy leather bag.

He pulled out three hundred thousand in crisp bills and hurled it at Martin's face with a sneer.

Each slap of money was a thunderclap of arrogance.

"I have added three hundred thousand," the old man said with an icy sneer. "Bark three times—and you're my dog. Come on, doggy... start barking for your daddy."

froze, every eye locked

his skin. In front of his friends-and worse, in front of the woman he

not.

the last four hundred thousand from

against the old man's face, the sound like

with his fury.

suddenly broke into a smile, sweet

he barked loudly in

"Woof. Woof. Woof."

dog. And now you're

snatch the bills off the floor. His hands swept greedily across the carpet

old man grinned as his

said, his voice thick with mockery. "Yes... I'm so ashamed." Every word dripped with biting

damn about the barking. All

thousand gone, and the old man was laughing-laughing as

turned on

tycoon

barks? That's a house,

"Rich? Maybe. Stupid? Definitely."

ears rang with their jeers.

crossed her

rich, but this? Blowing six hundred

called him a prince-hell, I might've even wanted to be his girlfriend. But no...

spread like wildfire. All

voice cut through the noise like a knife. "Martin, if I'm not mistaken, wasn't that

harder than a slap. Martin

wanted to puff his chest, flaunt his arrogance. But the weight of shame

storming toward the old

You played me, didn't you? Give me my money back!" His voice

cold eyes fixed on him. Six burly men closed in at his

did you say?" he growled. "You paid me to bark. I barked three times. The deal is done.

spittle flying. "I don't care! You

to his side, standing shoulder to shoulder. "What if I don't give it back?" the old man said, his tone

at him. With a furious roar, he lunged and yanked the bag from the old

That was the spark.

an instant, the old man's men moved. Martin's friends

Chairs crashed.

ones, hot-blooded and reckless, fought with

lounge erupted into chaos.

caught in the frenzy, swung back

entire room was a battlefield—people shouting, punching, throwing bottles. The chaos

into chaos. Shouts turned to screams, bottles shattered, tables crashed to

spiraled into a violent bar fight. Giselle's face went pale. Josephine clutched Alex's arm

Giselle caught

glass flying, fists swinging. It was no place

her. I'll clear

moved quickly, but in the chaos some drunkards

two women.

His fists landed like

collapsed after a brutal jab to the

again.