Chapter 49 Iris Is Sold to a Man
Donovan’s piercing gaze cut through the chaotic crowd and fixed on the ruby bracelet in front of Robert.
He furrowed his brow slightly.
He glanced sideways at Harrison.
Harrison immediately understood and grabbed the bearded man by the back of his collar and dragged him into the restroom next door.
A few seconds later, several muffled gunshots rang out from inside.
Donovan strode toward the gambling table where Robert was seated.
The gamblers around him held their breath and scrambled to the sides to make way for him. No one dared to make a sound.
A cacophony of footsteps echoed outside the door.
“Damn it! Who’s bold enough to come cause trouble on my turf?” the casino owner roared. His face was twisted with fury. He was followed closely by a gang of thugs, each with a menacing look and a gleaming machete in hand.
The moment they stepped through the door, dozens of submachine guns in the casino swiveled in unison and locked onto them.
The thugs’ pupils contracted in fear. They immediately dropped their knives, clutched their heads, and backed away to either side obediently.
The boss emerged from behind the crowd, glanced left and right, and approached Donovan cautiously.
“Has something happened? Let’s talk this out…”
"Get lost."
Donovan shot him a sidelong glance and pressed the cold muzzle of his gun directly against his forehead.
Terrified, the man immediately dropped to his knees.
"Do as you please. Do as you please."
Donovan lowered the gun and stood firmly in front of Robert.
He reached out and picked up the ruby bracelet from the table. He held it in his palm and stared at Robert coldly.
“Where is the owner of this bracelet?”
Robert looked up at Donovan’s handsome yet somber face. Suddenly, Iris' features came into sharp focus before his eyes.
Robert’s heart lurched.
How could he have forgotten Donovan?
That was the formidable figure his boss had spoken of.
Robert’s breath caught in his throat, his legs went weak, and he collapsed to his knees.
He stared wide-eyed in terror, gasping for air.
Donovan bent down and shoved the barrel of his gun straight into Robert’s mouth.
“Speak.”
The cold touch of metal and the threat of death instantly cleared Robert’s muddled mind.
He spoke indistinctly, saliva dripping uncontrollably from the corner of his mouth. "The... the boss... he's... he's in Red Hill... in the hands of the Hill family."
Donovan’s eyes flickered.
Wright stepped forward and said, "Donovan, the head of the Hill family is a close friend who saved your father’s life years ago. Isn’t this trip like going back to old stomping grounds?”
Donovan merely gave him a blank look.
Wright caught the hint, turned, and kicked Robert hard.
“The Hill family’s territory is massive—it covers the entire Red Hill! Be specific—who exactly has them?”
Robert shuddered in pain and hurriedly replied, "It's...it's Kevin."
"It's him..." Wright’s eyes, which had been bright, instantly turned cold as he turned to look at Donovan. "That bastard you crippled with a single kick back when we were in the Red Hill United Army."
Donovan’s eyes darkened, but he said nothing.
He glanced at the clock on the wall—it was already 6:30.
If Iris fell into Kevin’s hands, she wouldn’t survive the night.
He clenched his teeth, suppressing the anxiety in his heart. His index finger twitched slightly, and without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.
Robert’s head exploded the moment the shot rang out, and his body slumped limply to the ground.
The entire casino fell into a deathly silence.
Donovan tossed the gun, now covered in saliva and blood, to the mercenary behind him in disgust.
“Dispose of the gun.” He then turned to Wright. “Check if any of our people are on a mission near the castle right now.”
"Yes, Flynn and Corbin are there." After checking his phone, Wright quickly dialed two numbers, then shrugged helplessly. "Boss, their mission isn't over yet. I can’t reach them. They don't have their phones with them."
"Let's go." Donovan ordered in a low voice.
Just before turning away, his gaze swept over the bulging shirt pocket on Robert’s chest.
He crouched down and pulled out a sleek, compact, blue phone.
Given its model and pristine condition, it certainly didn’t belong to someone like Robert.
Donovan immediately concluded that it was Iris' new phone.
Just as he was about to turn on the screen to examine it, his own phone rang in his pocket.
He slipped Iris' phone into his sleeve pocket, pulled out his own phone, and glanced at the screen. It was an unfamiliar international number.
Time was tight. Donovan intended to hang up immediately but, after a moment’s hesitation, pressed the answer button.
Flynn's anxious, confused voice came through the line: "Boss, Jasper’s daughter—you’ve lost interest already? I’m on a mission at the castle, and I saw her get bought off by a man for three hundred thousand.”
Hearing this, the tension gripping Donovan’s heart for two days and two nights finally eased slightly.
For the first time, he felt that Flynn’s nosy, meddlesome nature had actually come in handy.
Donovan took a deep breath and ordered, "Lynx, return to the castle immediately and rescue her. Activate the tracker.”
Flynn paused for a moment, but quickly snapped to attention. “Copy that.”
He snapped the phone he’d snatched from someone’s hand in half and tossed it into a roadside trash can.
He found a secluded spot, confirmed that no one was around, adjusted his communication device, and said in a low voice, "Corbin, urgent mission! Meet at the Jiushun Café outside the castle in one hour. Confirm.”
On the other end, Corbin quickly opened the helicopter door, grabbed his gear bag, and hurried away.
"Copy."
As the auction at the castle drew to a close, night began to fall.
Following Kevin’s instructions, the burly men produced chains and shackled the hands and feet of all the girls who had been sold.
A series of bizarre rituals followed, lasting over an hour and ending with the rising of the moon.
The girls were escorted to the fourth floor of the castle, to the guest bedroom area, where each was assigned a room.
The ornately carved corridor outside was lined with armed guards on patrol—escape was impossible.
The girls kept their heads bowed, neither struggling nor pleading for mercy. It was as if they had all accepted their fate.
The man assigned to the room with Iris was in his fifties.
He was clean-shaven, and his face was etched with deep wrinkles.
He carried an elegant, expensive-looking black briefcase.
"Get on the bed. Lie down."
Iris froze in place, not moving an inch.
Instead of getting angry, the man tugged on the chain attached to her ankle, trying to drag her to the bed.
Seeing this, Iris broke free and turned to run.
But she had only taken one step when the man grabbed her from behind and lifted her up.
Terrified, Iris screamed and cried, kicking her legs wildly.
“Help! Help!”
Her voice, hoarse from crying, sounded shrill and desperate.
She knew no one would come to her rescue. Her heart pounded wildly with fear, and the chains on her hands and feet clanked as she struggled.
The more she cried for help, the more excited the man became.
He grinned savagely and threw her onto the bed.
Then, he snapped the shackles shut.
Iris could never take another step away from the bed.