The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage



"I refuse!"

The geezer remained determined.

"Hmph."

Huub snorted at his stubbornness and stepped aside.

His goon caught his cue right then.

He was naturally a powerful martial artist-that was how he got the job.

He strode forward right then and lifted the geezer off the ground, his face inches away from the geezer's as he growled threateningly, "Do you know who you're trying to con here? This is Huub Droitner of Bralog's Droitner Incorporated! It seems that you're really asking for it!"

"D-Droitner Incorporated? So what? T-This is Zamri, not Bralog! You don't get to strut here!"

The geezer remained defiant despite the goon's threat, but the panic in his eyes betrayed his fear.

"Strut, you say?"

Huub chuckled coolly nearby. "All of Zamri would soon be beneath my feet-pawns like you would never understand."

Walking up, he snatched the fake flower on the table. "I was going to pay you five hundred bucks for your troubles, but since you don't know what's good for you, you're not getting shit!"

"What?!"

The geezer exclaimed in disbelief as he looked on. "Are you stealing from me?! In broad daylight?!"

"So what if I am?" Huub shrugged and left.

His goon sneered as he watched Huub leave, having found out what he should do now from the look Huub gave him.

Pushing the geezer to the floor, he kicked the geezer viciously in the hip, leaving him screaming.

Meanwhile, Huub chuckled as he left the shoplet, his eyes flashing with cold lust.

"Well, I have everything I need now," he said, getting into his Lincoln and pouring himself a glass of wine.

The geezer screamed endlessly back at the shoplet until Huub's goon stepped out, his face covered in blood.

"Is he dead?" Huub smiled in amusement.

"No, sir. He's barely clinging to life," the goon replied respectfully, wiping the blood off his face.

"Good. We shouldn't kill on a whim since I intend to extend my business here." Huub smiled as he raised the car window. "Get on. We're going to an antique shop."

"An antique shop? Why?"

The goon did a double take-should their priority not be to hurry to Lanecorp Tower to give Helen the

fake Bloodcrane Spirit

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swnev

"If it's an important herb, shouldn't it be kept in a nice box?" Huub shot back coolly.

The goon realized with a start, and

got in thone

car, giving Huub a

thumbs up. "I see! That's

cunning plan, Mr. Droit

As night arrived, a special guest arrived at Blackwater.

Dressed totally in white albeit with a sword sheathed on her hip, Silverbell was the image of a goddess.

Behind her was the pudgy, grubby warden of the prison, Draco Fisher.

"Hehe..."

Draco's fat cheeks were squeezed together, his eyes narrowed into slits.