The Mafia Heiress's Comeback: She's More Than You Think novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11 The Black

Market

“Maren, the dean has taken me in as his student. This puts us in completely different spheres,” Wilbur said proudly,

surrounded by his fellow students.

Maren faced Wilbur, noticing his entourage’s smirks of superiority.

Wilbur’s expression was one of disdain as he continued, “Let me make this clear. Your claim of graduating in three days by

challenging the dean? It’s absurd. The whole academy is laughing about it. I understand what you’re attempting, Maren.

You’re trying to grab my attention with these ridiculous antics. But I’m telling you now, it won’t work. I don’t entertain

fools.”

In his mind, there was only one explanation for Maren’s dramatic challenge: she was infatuated with him. Her extreme

actions, in his view, stemmed from a desperate bid for his affection.

Wilbur kept talking, while his followers alternated between mocking and pitying glances at Maren, relishing the prospect

of her impending humiliation.

Maren was not in the mood to indulge this absurdity, yet Wilbur forced the confrontation. She laughed derisively. “You’ve

actually got something right, Wilbur. I don’t entertain fools.”

And the biggest fool? Wilbur himself.

With that dismissal, Maren strode away, not giving Wilbur another glance.

Was she calling him a fool? Wilbur froze, stunned for a second. His instincts told him to chase after her, to grab her and

demand an apology, but then he remembered how last time she’d embarrassed him in public. This time, he didn’t grab her.

He rushed ahead instead, cutting Maren off.

“Maren, we’re not done here. I’ll still honor our engagement agreement, but know this: it’s Nadia who has my heart. You’ll

never have my love.”

“Go away!” Maren kicked him aside and strode away without another word.

She found arguing with him pointless. She had little patience with him. Just the sight of him was enough to unsettle her

stomach.

“I’ll prove myself in three days. Make sure you’re ready to transfer those shares back and dissolve our engagement,” she

declared.

Wilbur picked himself off the ground, his expression a contorted mix of shock and anger. Maren’s kick had caught him off

guard, leaving him winded.

Could she be concealing something? He dismissed the thought as absurd.

Except for her absence of four years, he had known Maren all her life. He was convinced he understood her better than

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anyone else.

She was merely a woman. What significance could four years have? She must have just faced hardships.

That kick was surely just a fluke. He wasn’t prepared.

He suspected it was another ambush like before.

“Fine, Maren. If you insist on being obstinate, we’ll see what happens in three days. I can’t wait to watch you fall.”

Maren finally rid herself of Wilbur and headed to a hidden market known only to those who dwell in the shadows.

The city transformed at night; beneath its glistening lights hid a darkness that daylight could never uncover.

The underground black market was cloaked in darkness and vice, a nexus where pleasure, power, and risk exchanged hands freely.

Participants usually wore masks, concealing their identities as they engaged in criminal transactions.

Maren picked out a mask for herself.

To regain her strength, she needed certain items.

Currently, she was armed only with the pistol borrowed from Stormclaw.

The goods she sought weren’t available through any lawful means.

Deep within the market, in a crowded arms dealer’s stall, Maren evaluated a selection of daggers, judging each by its heft

and balance.

While she assessed her options, snippets of a conversation nearby pricked her attention.

“Seriously? You’ve got a way into the Sovereign Underworld?”

“Look, I’ve had your back for ten years. You think I’d joke about something like this?”

Near Maren, two men discussed openly. It wasn’t just their conversation that drew her focus; it was their choice to go

without masks.

While individuals like Maren donned masks to conceal their identities and some wore them for protection, these two brazenly showed their faces. Such arrogance or ignorance could only mean trouble.

And their claim of joining the Sovereign Underworld? It was audacious.

Maren was well aware that membership in the Sovereign Underworld wasn’t for the faint–hearted. It was a haven for the world’s elites, hardened criminals, not amateurs.

She had secured her place through bloodshed.

These two? Yeah, their bruised knuckles and worn trigger fingers showed they’d fired plenty of rounds, but it was obvious they weren’t built for the real fight.

Maren threw them a sidelong glance and edged nearer under the guise of examining knives, all while tuning in to every word they said.

The underground market was known as a hub for crucial intel. The confident tone of these men hinted at deep connections. Perhaps they might divulge valuable insights into the Sovereign Underworld’s current strategies.

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Unbeknownst to the two men, Maren was eavesdropping nearby.

“Do you recall our earlier conversation? About a major player from the Sovereign Underworld arriving in Baimsa soon?”

one of them asked.