The Almighty Dominance novel Chapter 123

Chapter 123

Zeroing in on Sophia, Hank took a swaggering step forward booze practically wafting off his breath. His fingers reached for her chin

Crack! Sophia’s palm struck with a force that echoed around the room like a rifle shot. An angry crimson print blazed across his cheek.

His bravado vanished faster than a tumbleweed in a windstorm.

“You… you dare slap me?” Hank rasped, touching his throbbing cheek.

Sophia’s voice came out cold and calm. “Not only did I slap you, I’m calling the police. You’re nothing but a lecherous creep.”

“Bitch!” Hank spat, his features contorting with fury as he raised his hand to strike back

Before he could land a blow, Marco stepped up and gave him a hard shove.

“You lowlife piece of trash,” Marco hissed. “You really think you can pull this crap here? Looking to get your skull cracked open?”

Hank stumbled. “You better keep out of this, or you’ll regret it!”

Marco just gave a humorless chuckle. “That a threat? Go on show me what you’ve got.”

Confident as ever, he knew the banquet host, Charles Kingston, had his back. In Marco’s mind, this was as safe a battlefield as it got.

“Go to hell!” Hank lunged with a clumsy swing, the alcohol dragging down his reflexes. He looked more like he was dancing a bad jig than trying to fight.

Marco, built like a hardened gym rat, side–stepped easily and followed up with a punch to Hank’s face–a clean, satisfying crack that sent Hank staggering.

Blood trickled from his nose.

“You wanna throw down?” Marco snorted, shaking out his fist. “Too bad you picked the wrong guy.”

Megan, still bristling from Hank’s earlier insult, cheered a little too loudly. “Mr. Wood, that was glorious! He deserved every bit of that!”

“Bastard,” Hank growled, clutching his bloody nose, “do you even know who I am with? You’ll be sorry for this.”

Marco smirked, cold and unimpressed. “Don’t care who you are. Now get out before I give you a matching bruise on the other side of that dumb face.”

Megan clapped louder this time, her voice thick with scorn. “That, Ms. Lancaster, is what a real man does. Did you get a good look?”

She skewered Alex with a contemptuous glare, as though he were some pathetic stray. “Unlike certain people who slink off with their tail between their legs. Pitiful.”

Alex only shook his head at the spectacle.

He and Megan hardly knew each other, yet she acted as if he owed her some colossal debt, always lunging at any opportunity to cut him down.

Still, if she thought her barbs could break him, she was dead wrong.

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Chapter 123

+25 BONUS

His composure stood firm, a wall she couldn’t penetrate with all the scorn in the world.

Hank’s laugh came out as a wet, rattling sound, dark and threatening.

He dabbed at the blood smeared across his mouth, then tapped the face of his smartwatch.

“Get in here!” he roared. “Some idiot just hit me!”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the main doors slammed open with an explosive crash.

Twenty men thundered into the room, armed to the teeth iron batons, nailed–up baseball bats, knives, jagged pipes.

Their heavy footsteps pounded like a stampede, and the hugh that fell over the banquet was instant and absolute.

They even flattened six burly security guards, leaving them bruised and unconscious on the floor.

It was a grim reminder of how easily they’d barged through Kingston’s so–called “top–notch” security–making victims of anyone who stood in their way.

In that frozen moment, it didn’t matter how many zeroes someone had in their bank account.

Social status and fancy suits meant squat against raw, brutal force.

It was a shift as sudden and jarring as a calm saloon turning into a bar brawl–one second all civility, the next second a free–for–all with steel and flesh. 1

“What the hell?” Marco’s voice caught in his throat as he stared at the wall of men closing in.

His palms turned clammy, and for a split second, the room spun.

They were supposed to trade blows like honorable fighters–one–on–one. Yet Hank had tossed that rule straight out the window.

Still, Marco forced down his fear and squared his shoulders. No way he’d let Sophia see him cave.

Not here. Not now.

He swallowed hard and glared at Hank. “If you’re half the man you claim to be, fight me fair and square. Or are you too yellow to handle this on your own?”

Hank let out a barking laugh, tipping his head back as though Marco had just cracked the world’s best joke.

“One–on–one? Sure, big shot.” He lifted a hand, and his gang shuffled back a pace, forming a messy circle around Marco, Sophia, and Megan–like a makeshift boxing ring.

Marco tried to steady his breathing and flicked a glance at Sophia. “We do this properly–just you and me.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Hank agreed, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “But let’s call our official referee–my big brother.”

He waved a hand with theatrical flair.

From a table in the shadows, a man rose. He moved with a smooth, almost polished grace, his presence carrying a lethal chill that made everyone’s hair stand on end.

Strolling past Hank’s crew, he stopped in front of Marco.

His eyes were like daggers cutting through smoke–calm, steady, and utterly dangerous.

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Chapter 123

“Hank You sure you wanna fight this man? He’s bigger than you,” the man said.

+25 BONUS

“I’m sure, Big Bro,” Hank crowed, flashing a grin. “A bigger man doesn’t always win–I’ve got wits on my side.”

“Then so be it,” the man replied, patting Hank’s shoulder before turning to face Marco.

“Name’s Jasper Drake.”

A hush fell over the crowd like a curtain dropping. Whisper flickered around the room.

“Jasper Drake? The Jasper Drake?”

“He’s Harlan Drake’s son. They say the Drakes run the underworld out in East Vancouver City!”

“No wonder they’re fearless.”

Marco’s stomach twisted into a cold knot.

He’d heard the name a thousand times, always cloaked in blood and terror.

Now Jasper Drake himself was right here, eyes shining with quiet malice. 1

His lips curved into a slow, devilish grin.

“Hank is more than a brother to me–he’s family in every sense of the word. So do your best; he’ll consider it an honor.”

Then his voice dropped, loud enough to slice through the air. “But Hank, for every punch this pathetic gigolo lands on you, I’ll snatch one of his loved ones, And when this brawl is over, for each blow he dares to deal, I’ll carve off a piece of his body–limb, bone, or flesh. Makes no difference to me.”

He turned back to Marco, wearing a smile as cold as a prairie blizzard.

“I’ve got you pegged, Marco. Every last debt, every filthy little ‘gigolo gig‘ you tried to hide. There’s nowhere on God’s green earth you can run. So, by all means–give Hank your best shot. Let’s see what you’re really made of.”

Marco felt the world closing in. This wasn’t a simple scrap anymore.

It was a death sentence, not just for him but for anyone tied to his name.

Across from him, Hank looked ready to burst with satisfaction, feeding on the terror etched into Marco’s face.

“You wanted a fair fight,” Hank said, arms spread wide in mock generosity. “Hope you’re still up for it.”

He lunged forward, delivering a straight punch to Marco’s jaw.

The impact rocked Marco’s head back, and he tasted the sharp tang of blood as laughter and jeers erupted around

him.

Hank’s men whooped and hollered, their glee echoing through the grand hall.

Marco stumbled, knees going weak.

His eyes flitted to Sophia–fear and helplessness written across her face–but he didn’t dare fight back.

“There is a bound where mortal will must yield to higher tides.‘