Chapter 6

Just as Ares was about to lunge at Amir, Amir's men snapped back to their senses and raised their guns.

Without a moment's hesitation!

A storm of gunfire erupted instantly.

Ares was surrounded on all sides, completely outnumbered — an incredibly dangerous position to be in.

But Ares kept his cool. He dropped low and rolled across the floor.

The bullets missed him and instead cut down the shooters' own men.

Ares moved through the crowd like a ghost, rolling and weaving between bodies. This forced Amir's men to hold their fire — one stray shot and they'd hit one of their own.

Ares drew the combat knife from his belt and tore through the crowd like the grim reaper himself.

Blood sprayed everywhere. Screams rang out one after another.

At the same time, Monica, Hankins, and the others had taken full control of the battlefield. Hitting from the outside while Ares worked from within, they shattered Amir's formation in seconds.

The whole place descended into chaos. Everyone panicked.

In the mayhem, Alyssa got knocked to the ground. She covered her ears, screaming, and crawled to a corner that seemed slightly safer, her whole body shaking uncontrollably.

But the chaos didn't last long.

The gunfire slowly died down.

Amir had been completely broken. He lay face-down near the doorway, his head pointing outside, one leg shattered by a bullet. He'd lost so much blood that his face had gone pale and he could barely move.

He struggled to turn his head — and what he saw would stay with him for the rest of his life.

Every single one of his men was dead, their bodies torn apart.

Blood had pooled across the floor, staining the entire hall red.

Guns, limbs, severed arms, and heads were scattered everywhere.

The stench of blood was so thick it was almost suffocating.

Amir's face froze. He stared for three seconds — then started vomiting violently.

He wasn't the only one. The wealthy guests had already made a mess of the floor, and some had simply passed out from shock.

Henry and his son Paul were huddled under a table, their faces ghost-white, trembling from head to toe.

Ares, Monica, Hankins, and the others stood in the middle of the hall, drenched in blood from head to toe — even their guns were coated in it.

"Amir!"

Ares walked over to Amir without any expression on his face. He planted his foot on Amir's back and pressed the gun barrel against the back of his head. His voice was ice-cold.

"Nice to meet you. Too bad we didn't have more time. I'm afraid this is goodbye."

"No — no!"

Staring down the barrel of the gun, Amir's face twisted in terror. He begged desperately, "Ares, you can't kill me! If you kill me, the Chaykos family will never let you go!"

"Is that so? Then let them come." Ares smiled coldly. "I was going to go find them anyway."

"NO! NO! Ares... I was wrong... please, give me a chance to live! I'll do anything for you. I'll betray the Chaykos family. I'll work for you..."

When throwing out the family name didn't scare Ares off, Amir completely fell apart — he even offered to betray his own family, just to stay alive.

But Ares's eyes didn't flicker even slightly.

"I don't need that."

Those cold words were the last thing Amir heard.

A sharp crack of gunfire.

A hole opened up in the back of Amir's skull.

By killing him, Ares had just declared open war on the Chaykos family.

Every guest in the hall held their breath, terrified they might be next. They all wished they could turn invisible.

Ares turned around and slowly swept his gaze across the room.

Wherever he looked, people immediately dropped their eyes. No one dared to meet his stare.

He reloaded his magazine as he walked toward a table in the corner of the hall.

He reached the table and crouched down with a calm smile.

Underneath it, Paul and Henry cowered like mice cornered by a cat, their faces full of terror.

"How old are you two? And you're hiding under a table?"

Ares stared at the father and son like they were already dead. His voice was as cold as ice.

"Do I need to drag you out?"

"Ares, give me a chance!"

Henry swallowed hard and forced out one last plea. "Please... please!"

He had never taken Ares seriously — in Chicago, the Antonelli family always got what they wanted. No one dared touch them.

But now he understood. He had been dead wrong.

Ares had just killed a member of the Chaykos family without blinking. The man was completely out of his mind.

Ares let out a mocking laugh and said, "Begging me? Sure, I can let you go."

Henry's face lit up with relief. "Really? Thank you! Thank you, Ares!"

"Of course — just bring my sister Evelyn back to life, and you're free to go."

"That's impossible..."

"Oh? Can't do it?"

"Ares, I'm truly sorry about your sister, but the dead can't come back. Ask me for anything else — I'll give you money, as much as you want..."

"Shut up!"

Ares roared and grabbed Henry by the throat, yanking him out from under the table.

"You're begging me now? Fine. But when my sister begged you, did you show her any mercy?"

"Ares... no... please..."

Henry's throat was locked in Ares's grip. His face turned red fast. He barely managed to force out broken words. "Let... me... go..."

Ares's eyes were cold and merciless. Instead of loosening his grip, he squeezed harder.

Henry's body went rigid. Drool trickled from the corner of his mouth. His face went from red to purple, then finally to black.

At last, he stopped struggling. His body went limp, and his arms dropped to his sides.

But his eyes stayed wide open — a dead man who couldn't rest in peace.

Ares had strangled him with his bare hands.

Ares tossed the body aside like a piece of trash. It landed right in front of Paul.

Paul stared at Henry's wide, lifeless eyes and his face twisted in horror. His whole body jerked — and then a dark wet patch spread across his pants. Yellow liquid ran down his trouser leg and pooled on the floor, filling the air with a sharp, foul stench.

"Well, look at that — Mr. Antonelli just wet himself."

Hankins saw it and burst out laughing.