Chapter 4 Taking Her Away

Without a word, Charlie shrugged out of his suit jacket and settled it around the blood slave's bare shoulders, blocking the predatory gazes crawling over her from the crowd.

With a lazy flick of his wrist, a card landed against the bald man's chest, and he clasped the blood slave's shaking hand, strolling her toward the exit as if nothing in the room could touch him.

At that moment, the doors burst wide and armed guards poured in, pistols and submachine guns raised as they fanned across the hall.

"Down on the floor-no one moves!" a harsh voice barked, slicing through the noise.

Panic rippled through the audience as bodies hit the ground, hands clamped over heads while shrill screams filled the air.

From where he stood, his gaze lifted toward the entrance, a slow, knowing smirk curling at his lips as recognition flashed in his eyes.

"Ah, so you're the legendary Mr. Ford at last. I've been eager to meet you," the head of Heaven Island said with a courteous smile. He was a young man in wire-rim glasses, his polished manners barely masking the cold malice lurking underneath.

Charlie's gaze swept over the heavily armed guards, his brow lifting with faint amusement. "Mr. Stewart, are you always this dramatic when you greet your guests?"

"I was told something unpleasant had happened, so I came to see for myself," Mason Stewart answered calmly, flicking his eyes toward the bald man sprawled unconscious on the floor. "Is that the fool who crossed you, Mr. Ford? Toss him into the sea."

After issuing the order, Mason turned his attention to the blood slave, his look sharpening into a silent threat. "You'd better please Mr. Ford properly tonight," he warned coolly. "If not, you know exactly what happens next."

A chill raced through her body, and she trembled despite herself when his gaze landed on her.

That man had been the architect of her suffering, the one who had strapped her down and subjected her to endless experiments and calculated torment. The memory sank deep, a bone-deep agony she never wanted to relive.

With stiff fingers, she gave a small, obedient nod.

Charlie noticed the fear flickering in her eyes and quietly shifted his attention toward Mason instead.

Before all this, Mason had been nothing more than a scientist obsessed with research, yet he had somehow become the key figure behind the creation of the blood slaves.

Charlie was certain of one thing-no matter how brilliant Mason was, there had to be a shadowy organization standing behind him, because no lone researcher could bankroll experiments of that scale on his own.

Mason already knew exactly who Charlie was, and Charlie had likewise dug through Mason's history long before setting foot here.

"You should know exactly what it means that I pushed the bid that high," Charlie muttered evenly, his eyes locked on Mason without the slightest hint of retreat.

A faint smile curved Mason's lips as he nudged his glasses into place. "So you plan to take her away for a mere billion dollars?"

At that, her gaze flicked instinctively toward Charlie. He stood six-six, forcing her to tilt her head back just to meet his face. Could it really be possible? Was he actually going to take her away from this place? Not merely claim her for a single night of service?

With a steady, unblinking stare, Charlie locked eyes with Mason, his piercing gray gaze serving as a firm reminder.

Very few things ever pushed Charlie to burn through that kind of money in one stroke, aside from pouring capital into the development of cutting-edge, heavy-grade weapons.

Across from him, Mason studied Charlie carefully, thoughts turning over behind his calm expression. Reputation alone painted Charlie as a merciless figure whose origins no one could truly trace, the commander of a shadowy, heavily armed mercenary force that let him drift smoothly between lawful fronts and criminal backchannels.

Crossing a man like that rarely ended well, and Mason knew better than to test how far Charlie's patience-or reach-extended.

"Of course-it's my honor that this specimen managed to draw Mr. Ford's interest," Mason stated, his tone polished and deferential.

With that, he pivoted toward the blood slave and leveled her with a sober, unmistakable warning. "Since you now belong to Mr. Ford, know your place and act accordingly."

Without sparing the room another glance, Charlie took the blood slave by the hand and guided her away, his impatience plain.

From beside him, Preston produced a gold card and extended it to Mason. "Ten billion dollars. The password is today's date-guard it carefully."

A faint glimmer of malice crossed Mason's eyes as he accepted the card and studied Preston in silence.

Frowning slightly, Preston queried, "What's with that look?"

Composure restored, Mason curved his lips into a refined smile and replied indifferently, "You look strikingly like someone I once knew."

Preston showed no interest in old ties and pivoted toward the exit without a backward glance.

A guard stepped up to Mason, his brow furrowed with unease. "Mr. Stewart, you spent five years and went through countless women to perfect this blood slave. You're really letting her go for a billion?"

A cold curl tugged at Mason's mouth. "She was never meant to stay," he replied lazily, his eyes glinting. "I couldn't keep her forever... and tell me-would you dare stand against Charlie?"

The guard's words died in his throat. Anyone who knew even a fragment of Charlie's true background and still valued their life wouldn't dream of crossing him.

"Still," Mason murmured, unwilling to watch years of painstaking research vanish so cleanly, a calculating smile spreading across his face. "I won't let everything I invested sink without a ripple."

Leaning closer, he added with quiet menace, "There's a heavily armed pirate crew roaming these waters. Send them a message-tell them tonight's sea holds a very tempting prize."