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."

every eye locked

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

not.

out the last four hundred thousand

man's face, the sound like thunder cracking in

his

businessman suddenly broke into a smile, sweet and

hesitation, he barked loudly in the middle of

"Woof. Woof. Woof."

laughing, her voice sharp as glass. "Look at you, old man. You're not a businessman-you're a dog. And now you're barking. How dare you think you could compete with Martin in

lackey scrambled forward, bending low to snatch the bills off the floor. His

grinned as his lackey handed him the

his voice thick with mockery. "Yes... I'm so

damn about the barking. All

hundred thousand gone, and the

lounge turned

tycoon here

three barks? That's a house, wasted just like that!"

"Rich? Maybe. Stupid? Definitely."

their

her arms, lips

rich, but this? Blowing six hundred thousand dollars

prince-hell, I might've even wanted to be his girlfriend.

like wildfire. All of them mocking

if I'm not mistaken, wasn't that money meant for charity?

than a slap. Martin

his chest, flaunt his arrogance.

snapped, storming toward the

me my money back!" His

turned, cold eyes fixed on him. Six burly men closed

The deal is done. You want to call that a scam?

shouted back, spittle flying. "I don't care! You

closest friends rushed to his side, standing shoulder to shoulder. "What if I don't

stares, the whispers, the laughter aimed at him. With a furious roar, he lunged and yanked the

That was the spark.

man's men

Chairs crashed.

ones, hot-blooded and reckless, fought with

into chaos. Customers

frenzy, swung back just to

a battlefield—people shouting, punching, throwing bottles. The chaos spread

to screams, bottles shattered,

of drinks and music had spiraled into a

protect her! If reporters see Giselle caught

flying, fists swinging. It was

clear the way. We're

in the chaos some

two women.

struck fast. His fists landed like hammers-one man

to the ribs. No one

again.