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."

room froze, every eye locked

crimson, shame and rage boiling under his skin. In front of his friends-and worse, in front of the woman

not.

hands, he ripped out the last four

by one, he smashed the stacks against the old man's face,

flying with his

into a smile, sweet

barked loudly in the middle of the

"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

bills off the floor.

grinned as his lackey

"Yes... I'm so ashamed." Every word dripped with

damn

boiled inside him. Six hundred thousand gone, and the

turned on

a fool! He's the real tycoon

That's a

"Rich? Maybe. Stupid? Definitely."

rang with their jeers. His face

her arms,

know he was rich, but this? Blowing six hundred

might've even wanted to be his girlfriend. But no... turns out he's nothing but a

wildfire. All of them mocking

cut through the noise like a knife. "Martin, if I'm not mistaken, wasn't that money meant for charity? For my birthday gift? The donation I asked

words hit harder than a slap. Martin bit his lip until

he wanted to puff his chest, flaunt

snapped, storming toward

you? Give me my money

fixed on him. Six

say?" he growled. "You paid me to bark. I barked three times. The deal is done. You want to call that a scam? You made

flying. "I don't care! You scammed me! I

shoulder. "What if I don't give it back?"

collided inside Martin. He couldn't bear the stares, the whispers, the laughter aimed at

That was the spark.

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

Chairs crashed.

and reckless, fought with raw

into chaos.

in the frenzy, swung back just to

was a battlefield—people shouting, punching, throwing bottles. The chaos spread like fire, until

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

began as a night of drinks and music had spiraled into a violent bar fight. Giselle's face went pale. Josephine clutched Alex's arm

protect her! If reporters see Giselle caught up in this, her career will

fists

clear

in the chaos some drunkards

two women.

fast. His fists landed

jab to the ribs.

again.