FLASH MARRIAGE; CHARMED BY THE RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE CEO-Chapter 367: Surprise Attack

Somewhere in Lanche County, 8:15 PM, same day....

Don leaned back on his seat, the air around him heavy with smoke and tension.

His chiselled features were carved into a mask of cold indifference as he assessed the slightly trembling man seated across the table from him.

This man–an averagely mature sleaze bag with thinning, greasy hair that clung to his scalp like it resented being there– had chosen to betray his own boss for a shorter sentence and a thicker wallet.

But one thing he failed to realise is that he was talking to a devil, who had already decided his fate from the moment he walked in.

"Who else did he contact?" Don asked in a low, deadly tone, lazily peeling his gaze from the sleaze bag to the muscular security guard standing behind the man, awaiting his next nonverbal action.

"Stark Romero." The man wiped the beads of sweat on his forehead, his pounding heart threatening to leap out of his chest at any second as he sensed the danger looming behind him.

"Interesting! So Matt wants to play ball. He is still delusional about me abducting his daughter. Hmm... " Don’s lips curled slightly up as he drew in a slow breath from his thick tobacco cigar clenched between two ringed fingers. He filled his lungs with the intoxicating smoke before exhaling through his nose like a dragon suppressing fury.

"I swear boss. I have told you nothing but the truth." The man’s voice trembled even more vigorously as he felt the bodyguard’s hands now resting on his shoulders in a bone-crunching grip. "They are planning to launch an attack on the Wild Foxes tonight. They are already there as we speak."

"I believe you." Don sat up, stubbing the cigarette in the ashtray unaware that the sleaze bag was unknowingly wearing an untraceable mini audio bug.

"I’ve already confirmed your words and my men are ready to give him a befitting welcome."

The man smiled feverishly, bobbing his head up and down. "Thank you, boss, for believing me. You don’t have to pay me for this. Consider it my proof of loyalty."

"How thoughtful..." Don’s sharp eyes, dark and unreadable, locked onto the man’s eye as he could see the latter’s soul. "Now go to sleep."

Immediately, those words left Don’s lips, the bodyguard behind the man instantly snapped the latter’s neck.

At that very same moment, the peaceful surrounding was disrupted by a booming sound that forced Don out of his seat.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes boss, that sounds like an explo..."

The bodyguard was still in the process of replying when the dreadful sounds of gunfire cracked through the air like violent thunderclaps, sharp and relentless.

"Shit!" Don quickly drew out his silver pistols from his drawer while the bodyguard, already armed, ran to the door, speaking into his radio phone.

"Instruct Hulio to get the chopper ready." Don barked, clearing his drawer of vital assets and stuffing them into his briefcase travel bag.

More combat-trained security guards entered the study, each one of them armed to the teeth.

"Boss, our location has been compromised. We are under heavy attack. We need to get you to safety, now." One of the security guards said in an urgent but polite voice.

Pop-pop-pop...Tat-tat-tat...

The air was torn apart with the deafening crack of gunfire, each weapon screaming its own kind of violence that seemed to be getting closer.

"Find out who leaked my location and send them a message." Don roared as he hurried out of the door, taking the stairs to the roof where a chopper was already waiting to lift off.

"Watch out!"

A shrill cry from one of the stationed bodyguards on the roof forced Don to dive back to the bottom of the stairs, taking cover at the base, as a missile struck with a blinding flash.

In an instant, the chopper and its occupants and every living being on the roof were ripped into shreds in a fatal explosion that lit up the sky like a dying star.

The explosion above ripped through the building like a monstrous roar, shaking the walls to their very foundation.

A split second later, the roof gave way with a deafening crack, collapsing with a sickening groan.

Tough men squealed like pigs about to be slaughtered as concrete, metal, and timber rained down in a violent cascade, crashing through the air with thunderous weight.

Cries echoed through the rubble — sharp, panicked, guttural.

"Boss... Don...." One of the guards screamed in pain, his ribs crushed under the weight of a fallen beam.

"Someone help! I can’t feel my legs." Another voice, hoarse and distant, kept screaming.

Outside the collapsing building, the gun battle seemed to be inching closer and closer, each shot ringing out with brutal finality.

Spent shells clattered to the ground like rain on metal, mingling with the shouts of men and the occasional scream torn from the chaos.

A man with a broken head arose from the debris, his once clean and crisp black suit, covered with dust and blood. His eyes narrowed at the advancing enemy, his bleeding fist clenched.

"Bastards!" Don gritted his teeth, picking up an AK-47 from one of his dead guards.

"Boss, we need to get out of this place." One of his loyal bodyguards, who had narrowly escaped being crushed like the others, came to Don’s side. "We can leave to fight another day." He pleaded holding his boss back from making a suicidal attack.

Don’s bloodshot glare met the guard, and he was tempted to shoot him in the head for daring to accept defeat. But on a second thought, he knew the guard was right. It would be senseless to fight an already lost battle. All he needed now was to regroup, find out the bastard who had attacked him and retaliate.

"Fine," Don said in a deadpan tone while looking around for his briefcase. But there was no sight of it anywhere amid the rubble. "Let’s go."

With limited escape choices, Don was forced to take the only escape route available–the sewer.

By the time Don, his only surviving guard, arrived at the other exit point of the sewer, his highly fortified safe house and all its occupants had been reduced to piles of bodies and debris.

He was forced to flee like a street urchin with the stench of the sewer clinging to him like a curse.

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