FLASH MARRIAGE; CHARMED BY THE RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE CEO-Chapter 368: Puppets In A Deadly Game Of Chess

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Back in Salvine City, same time....

Matt sat motionless behind the wheel of his exotic car, hands gripping the steering like a man clinging to the edge of reason.

His murderous glare was fixed on the hefty-looking bouncers and security guards underneath the neon glow of the Wild Foxes, who were busy screening some impatient clubbers, seeking to catch a night of fun.

Beneath his black trench coat, destruction hummed softly, waiting to be unleashed.

"Matt, are you sure about this?" One of the masked men seated behind asked in a foreboding tone. "What if we are wrong and your daughter is not there?"

"She is in there, Cross. That bastard is holding her hostage. He plans on turning my precious angel into one of his sick puppets. But I will burn the whole place to the ground before I let anyone touch her."

Matt’s gaze didn’t wander from the exit as he memorised every face and every exit. He knew what was waiting for him behind those doors once he stepped under that neon light. He could already picture the chaos in his head. But he wasn’t nervous.

For his precious daughter, he was willing to stick his finger in the eyes of the devil. He would rather die a thousand times than watch his precious gem become a play toy in the hands of ruthless brutes.

"Tell your men to get ready. We attack in the next five minutes."

"What about the cops?" The second masked man pointed out.

"Romero and his men have that covered. They would keep those pigs engaged for the next forty to fifty minutes. No one would be crashing the party but us". Matt said confidently.

"Nice one, Matt." The first masked man, Cross, gave Matt a thumbs-up.

"Remember..." Matt turned his deadly stare to the men behind, pointing a gun at them. "No one leaves until my daughter is found. Understood?"

"Understood." Each man cracked their guns in readiness for a blood bath.

Unbeknownst to Matt and his gang, they were about to become the victims in a deadly game of chess orchestrated by someone watching from afar.

As Matt and his men stepped out of their cars and stormed the club, chaos ripped through the street like a storm.

The crowd outside the club, once buzzing with laughter and music, erupted into sheer panic.

Screams tore through the air as the sharp, thunderous cracks of gunfire rang out.

Inside the club, a silent ambush was waiting, masked by the dancing disco lights and the jamming music.

Immediately, Matt and his men forcefully made their way in, hell was unleashed.

The music died in an instant, replaced by the bone-rattling roar of gunfire.

Bullets tore through glass, walls, and flesh without mercy—shattering bottles, ripping through speakers, and dropping bodies where they stood.

The air reeked of gunpowder, blood, and adrenaline, as Matt dodged flying bullets–using both enemies and allies as human shields.

In the heat of the moment, some men disguised as the Don’s personal guards stormed the club, their machine guns pumping without mercy.

A faction of them broke into Don’s office, seizing sensitive and incriminating documents, Don’s prized red diamonds, and his gold bars from his vault. Then they torched the rest of his cash, leaving behind Matt’s fingerprints everywhere as a souvenir.

Before these ghost men left the battlefield, they took down a lot of Don’s men, giving Matt the upper hand. Afterwards, they disappeared into the dead of the night like they were never there.

Matt and a few of his surviving men succeeded in tearing down the whole place in a desperate search for his daughter.

Sadly, all he found were pictures of her in one of the VIP rooms and her pink pyjamas on the bed, beside a sexy red dress that had blood stains.

"No...Rosie." Matt fell on his knee, broken at the thought of his daughter being defiled or worse killed.

"Matt, we need to go. I just got word that the police are on their way." Cross–bruised and bloodied from the battle, hopped on one leg as he pulled Matt to his feet. "We will find her another day. I’m sure she’s still alive."

Broken by the current situation, Matt still clung to a thin thread of hope that his Rosie was still alive. He grabbed her pyjamas and left with the rest of the gang.

On their way to their secret hideout, Matt received a call that completely shattered him, leaving him screaming like a madman.

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Dawn broke over Salvine City with an eerie stillness. The usual hum of life dulled beneath a heavy, invisible weight.

Radios crackled with grim urgency. Television news anchors delivered the same headline across every channel with strained voices.

A violent gun battle had erupted overnight, and the city’s main police station had been attacked.

Whispers turned into gasps as people gathered around screens and phones, eyes wide with disbelief and fear at the horrific images and video review.

Sirens wailed in the distance, slicing through the morning air like a chilling reminder that peace had been shattered. The streets, once bustling with early risers, were somewhat deserted as the ongoing search for the criminal-minded perpetrators forced people to stay indoors.

Back at the Shawls mansion, Senator Gregory was having a peaceful cup of coffee, watching the news, when he received a call on his mobile phone.

A crease lined his forehead as he stared at the caller’s name flashing on his screen. He slowly dropped his mug on the side tool and swiped the receive button. He brought the phone to his ear and said drily.

"Whatever you’re going to say, make it snappy. You have one minute."

"Good morning, brother." Desmond’s broken and shaky voice echoed from the background.

"Who is your brother?" Senator Gregory’s eyes narrowed with disgust. "The same one you winningly stabbed in the back after everything he has done for you and your family?"

"I know I have disappointed you and I am very sorry."

"Thirty seconds." Senator Gregory’s face twisted with unrestrained rage.

"I have a confession to make concerning Matt and how Fiona died."

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