The Billionaire's Mistake (Anya and Daniel)



Chapter 247: A ferocious madam

The moment Wolf and his men barged through the doors, a wave of panic rippled through the club. The thumping music and flashing lights, once a source of excitement, now cast an ominous pall over the scene.

Young men and women, their faces flushed with exhilaration mere moments ago, now wore expressions of pure terror. They scrambled to get out of the way, stumbling over each other as Wolf's crew shoved them aside with reckless abandon.

Shrill screams pierced the air as the first blows were exchanged between the security guards and Wolf's men. The spectators cowered, their hands clasped over their ears in a futile attempt to drown out the sickening sounds of flesh striking flesh.Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

A young woman, Her makeup streaked with tears, clung to her date, her body trembling uncontrollably. Her wide eyes darted around the club, taking in the chaos unfolding before her, a stark contrast to the carefree night she had envisioned.

The sudden crack of a gunshot rang

ut, silencing the club in an instant. A hush fell over the crowd, their breaths caught in their throats. Wolf stood, his arm extended, the smoking barrel of his pistol a grim reminder of the violence he was capable of unleashing.

In that moment, the clubbers were reduced to mere spectators in their own personal nightmares. Fear gripped their hearts, constricting their lungs and rendering them powerless against the forces that had invaded their sanctuary of revelry. The night had taken a dark turn, and they could only pray that they would make it out alive.

In the end, Wolf's crew stood triumphant, their chests heaving with exertion, surrounded by a sea of fallen bodies. The message was clear: they were not to be trifled with, and anyone who stood in their way would face the same, unforgiving fate.

The club's manager emerged from the shadows, his face contorted with panic. "You can't just barge in here like this!"

Wolf's gaze was steely, his voice a low growl. "Green's wife is trapped inside, and if anything happens to her, there'll be blood. Now, get out of our way, or join the pile."

The manager paled, his resolve crumbling under the weight of Wolf's words. He stepped aside, allowing them to continue their search unimpeded. They swept through the club, checking every nook and cranny, leaving no stone unturned. The pounding music seemed to grow more fric with each passing moment, a soundtrack to their urgency.

Finally, they reached a secluded room, the door reinforced and imposing. Wolf didn't hesitate, nodding to his men, who kicked it down with brute force.

The scene that greeted them was one of carnage, but not the kind they had expected. Hazel

stood in the midst a sea of unconscious bodies, her knuckles bruised and her hair disheveled. Yet, there was a gleam in her eye and a sly smile on her lips.

“Oh, you are here," she quipped, surveying the room with a satisfied air.

Wolf couldn't help but gape, his men shifting uncomfortably behind him. "Madam, what...?" For a moment, the sight of her in the midst of carnage reminded them of their boss. The sight sent chills down their spine.

She waved a dismissive hand. "Interview's over. Let's go get some porridge for Marcus."

As they made their way out of the club, stepping over the fallen security personnel and leaving a trail of destruction in their wake, Wolf couldn't shake the feeling that he had vastly underestimated Marcus Green's wife.

In the car, Hazel sat back, a picture of nonchalance. "Did Marcus order you to come get me? You must have called him then," she chided, her tone light but her words carrying a weight that Wolf couldn't quite ignore.

He caught her eye in the rear view mirror, a silent understanding passing between them. This was a woman who could handle herself

a force to be reckoned with in her own right.

As they pulled up to the hospital compound, Wolf couldn't help but wonder what other surprises Hazel had in store. One thing was certain: he would never underestimate her again. Jenny nursed her overpriced cocktail, glaring daggers as she watched her cousin Hazel stride out of the private lounge area, that infuriatingly smug look of self-satisfaction etched across her pretty features. As always, Hazel seemed to glide through life's obstacles unscathed while Jenny was forced to seethe on the sidelines.

When she had gotten wind of Hazel's editor making arrangements to essentially pimp her out to wealthy investors this evening, Jenny could barely contain her glee. Finally, her stuck-up in cousin would get a much-needed serving of public humiliation, taken down several pegs the most brutal fashion.

Jenny had even gone to the trouble of tipping off that sleazy Mr. Reed's to do something to Hazel, claiming that Hazel had a past of sleeping around. She could already envision the look of shattered dignity and shame on her cousin's face as she emerged, clothes askew and goals of professional success in tatters.

But as Jenny watched with seething frustration, her anticipated serving of delicious. schadenfreude never manifested. Instead of the hoped-for horrific outcome, Hazel emerged from the back rooms infuriatingly unruffled, striding confidently in the midst a phalanx of imposing men in crisp suits - bodyguards or henchmen by their unmistakable aura of menace.

What's more, several of the club's beefy security personnel were trailing in Hazel's wake, cowed and standing down from what had obviously been some sort of heated confrontation moments before. Even from across the crowded dance floor, Jenny could see their hangdog expressions and body language of forced submission.

As she watched Hazel disappear out the front entrance without so much as a mussed hair or wobble in her step, Jenny felt the bitter, caustic sting of defeat and humiliation roiling in her gut. Just what insidious strings had her cousin pulled this time to evade her comeuppance? Whose lives had she dismantled and reputations destroyed to emerge the victor once again

The knuckles of Jenny's hand went white around her glass as she took a shuddering breath to master her rising fury. Of course the sanctimonious Hazel had to ruin everything, just like always. Well this was far from over someday, somehow, she would find a way to shatter her cousin's precious life into a million cutting shards of misery.

One way or another, Jenny silently vowed as she drained her drink, the debt of jealousy would be paid in full, no matter how low she had to stoop. Because she refused to be endlessly overshadowed and outclassed by her upstart of a cousin. Not anymore.

Hazel had stepped out of the private lounge, the toe of her stiletto crunching on a piece of shattered glass. She paid it no mind, instead reaching down to retrieve her over-sized tote bag from where she had discarded it during the fight. She had put in her hammer back in the bag and left.

Hazel's movements had been unhurried, almost serene, as she sauntered past the trio of bodyguards Marcus had assigned as her watchdogs. Now in the car, she could not help but feel like she had just been poured cold water on a hot day. She was pleased with her fight. She thought to herself that she should let out some steam more once in a while.

As the SUV pulled away with a low growl, merging into the streams of late-night traffic, one of the hulking guards leaned forward slightly.

"Do you need to stop anywhere else, Madam," he stated in a low rumble that could barely be heard over the thrum of the engine.

"Did Marcus tell you to bring me back?" Hazel asked.

"Yes, Madame," wolfs answered