31 Proposals Too Late Chapter 13
Tyron suddenly lifted his head, his pupils trembling slightly.
He stood up and grabbed Benjamin’s arm tightly, speaking through gritted teeth, “What did you say!”
“It’s true! The woman we took last time is the lover of one of Octavio Velez’s men. She confessed everything!”
“That explosion was orchestrated by Octavio’s own people, but she doesn’t know why they blew up the factory. All she knows is that someone promised Octavio something before it happened, and then he sent people to our territory to take Franklin!”
After Benjamin finished speaking, he connected it with another matter, and a bold guess formed in his heart.
Just thinking about it made his palms break out in a cold sweat. “Tyron, after Katniss had her accident, the Mexican black market also fell into chaos. On the surface, those people follow your orders, but in reality, they always listened to Katniss the most. But now… it’s as if they all agreed in advance–they’re all siding with the Velez family, the ones who hurt Katniss. This is way too strange!”
He swallowed hard. “Do you think… Katniss might not be dead?”
Tyron suddenly released Benjamin’s arm, his thin lips pressed tightly together. His gaze slowly shifted from Benjam- in’s face to the agreement and Certificate of Divorce lying to the side.
“Heh.”
He suddenly let out a laugh.
The laughter continued to echo in Benjamin’s ears.
Just as Benjamin was at a loss, the laughter abruptly stopped.
“Benjamin, help me contact Octavio.” Tyron’s eyes suddenly turned as sharp as a hawk’s, his gaze deep and unfath- omable. “I want to see him!”
In the foggy night, Benjamin led his men into the casino run by the Velez family.
He gave a signal, and his subordinates quickly spread out to surround the area,
Suddenly, there was a loud crash!
Chips, playing cards, wine glasses, ashtrays… all the exquisite trappings of luxury flew through the air, crashing against the walls, the carpet, and the cowering legs of the gamblers, producing muffled sounds of shattering.
The roulette wheel clattered away, the ivory ball bounced a few times, and finally came to rest in a corner.
Their commotion quickly attracted Octavio’s men,
“You dare cause trouble here? Do you still want to survive?!”
The main door was pushed open again. Tyron entered, wearing a black overcoat, its hem still damp with the night’s dew and chill from outside.
He walked in against the light, silent figures following behind him, spreading out like ink dropped into clear water, quickly seeping out to control every exit.
“Call Octavio out!” His deep, hoarse voice echoed through the empty hall.
Someone recognized Tyron, but their eyes were full of disdain.
“Tyron, what are you doing acting like a boss here? Mr. Velez isn’t someone you can just—”
“Bang-!”
Before he could finish, Tyron shot him in the knee.
The next second, the man collapsed uncontrollably to his knees in front of Tyron, blood spreading across the floor.
A piercing scream suddenly rang out, and chaos erupted in the room.
Benjamin fired two shots into the air. “Nobody move!”
Both sides froze instantly, and everyone around held their breath.
“I said, call Octavio out.”
He lifted his eyelids, his gun aimed directly at the head of the man forced to kneel before him.
“I’ll count to three. If he doesn’t come out, your trusted aide’s life is forfeit.”
“One.”
He raised his hand, and a subordinate behind him swiftly smashed the enormous decorative crystal chandelier.
“Two.”
Another man overturned the bar, amber liquid spilling across the expensive carpet.
Just as he was about to say “three,” the door to the second–floor private room opened.
Octavio appeared behind the carved railing, dressed in a perfectly tailored silk shirt.
His face wore the usual flawless, faint smile, but there was no trace of amusement in his eyes. “Mr. Lestrange, such a temper is bad for your health.”
Tyron looked up, his gaze colliding with Octavio’s, and invisible sparks exploded in the air.
“Octavio.”
