The Mafia Lord's Secret Lover - Chapter 236

Chapter 236: Prepare Your Soul!
Maxime’s eyes widened. He attempted to stand up and slap the man in his head, but the man pressed a firm kick to his shoulder, keeping him on the floor.

A scream of pain echoed as his body hit the floor hard. “ARGHHH—”

His bloodshot eyes fixed sharply on the man. If glare could kill, this man would already be dead from his sharp stare.

“W-Who the hell are you? What are you doing to me?” Maxime’s voice shook, his entire body screaming in pain.

Ethan said nothing, but he clearly enjoyed watching this foolish man get angry.

“Do you even know who I am??” Maxime continued, his tone raised, “My family will hunt you down! They will punish you, throw you in jail! Say your name, who the hell are you?”

Ethan stared at him with the same flat expression and a hint of disdain.

“Who the hell am I?” He finally spoke, crouching down to Maxime’s level, his voice calm and quiet. “I’ll tell you who I am. I am your fucking nightmare.”

Maxime shivered in horror as he felt this man’s overwhelming aura beginning to suppress him. Meeting the man’s frightened gaze, he realized he was in serious trouble. Whoever this man was, he had kidnapped him and put him in a helpless position.

“Why are you doing this? I remember I never did anything to you. I swear! I was only drinking with my friends. And maybe partying. And maybe—”

“Yes,” Ethan interrupted him, voice sharp. “You were doing many things.”

“Did I offend you? I don’t even know you. Please let me go. Please…” Maxime pleaded, fear rising in his voice. “Sir, Brother, I will give you a ton of money if you let me go… Please tell me how many you need?”

Ethan didn’t blink. He grabbed Maxime by the collar and lifted him slightly.

“Prepare your soul, young man. After this, maybe tomorrow, you might never see the sun again.”

“W-What? What do you mean?”

Ethan stood and walked to the door. Before leaving, he ordered his men to tie Maxime securely.

“Yes, sir!” They answer.

“Brother, Sir, please let me go…” Maxime’s loud voice comes from inside.

Ethan stopped and turned to look at them, saying, “Beat him if he still makes noise!”

…

In the middle of the city.

The elite bar shimmered with a warm, golden light, its crystal chandeliers reflecting softly off the polished marble floors.

Several sofa sets were arranged throughout the entire hall, and a jazz band played on the small stage, their music smooth enough to relax the people inside.

The scent of aged whiskey lingered in the air, blending with notes of expensive perfume and the faint sweetness of cigars. It was the kind of place where politicians, heirs, and CEOs came to hide from the world.

In one of the private corners, Dylan lifted his glass, smirking as Jackson and Collins settled beside him.

The three had carved out their own quiet space away from the noise, the kind that only longtime brothers-in-arms understood.

“Cheers to our freedom,” Dylan declared, raising his glass with a lazy grin. “And to our boss’s happiness.”

Collins tapped his glass to Dylan’s. “I am happy for him. And for myself. I no longer need to work like a madman because the boss is distracted by his wife and kids.” He chuckled, leaning back in his seat.

Jackson joined in with a shrug. “Well, even though I am not Axel’s employee, I am happy for him too.” He lifted his drink and drained it with exaggerated enthusiasm.

After their glasses hit the table again, Collins cleared his throat. “But seriously, why only the three of us tonight? Where are the others?”

“They are busy,” Dylan replied with a casual shrug.

Collins raised a brow. “Or maybe they are no longer single.”

“Collins, damn it, can you not remind us of that?” Jackson groaned. He poured himself another drink, splashing more than necessary.

Dylan laughed, pointing at him. “Look at this man suffering.”

Jackson shot him a glare. “I am fine. Absolutely fine. Being single is a choice.”

“Right,” Collins teased. “A choice you never made.”

Dylan burst into laughter. Even Collins, usually more serious, cracked up.

Their laughter mellowed into a comfortable silence, broken only by the music and the low murmur of conversation surrounding them.

They drank slowly, enjoying the rare peace. With Axel celebrating his birthday with his family, the three of them had slipped away to enjoy their own quiet night.

But it did not last long.

Collins’ phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up lazily, but the moment he saw the name on the screen, his expression stiffened.

“Huh? Why is the boss calling me now?” he muttered, voice tight enough for Dylan and Jackson to hear.

“Pick up,” Dylan said instantly.

“Yeah, before he calls one of us next,” Jackson added.

Collins hurried out of the bar, nearly tripping over a server. The door closed behind him, leaving the two men staring after him.

Jackson sighed dramatically. “Poor Collins. He cannot catch a break. It is almost eleven.”

Dylan nodded, but his expression turned serious. If Axel called at this hour, something must have happened. He set his drink down and pushed it away. “Man, I will stop here. Axel might need me later. I should stay sober.”

Jackson rubbed his temples. “You are right. I am starting to get a headache anyway. I should go home.”

They stood, paid the bill, and walked outside. The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of rain.

Dylan waited near the entrance, watching Collins pace while talking on the phone. Whatever Axel had said clearly wiped all color from his face.

When Collins finally ended the call, he looked drained.

“You done?” Dylan asked.

Collins nodded. “Yeah. I will talk to you tomorrow. I need to get home first.”

They lived in the same building, so Dylan naturally fell into step behind him as Collins walked faster toward their apartment complex, just a few blocks away.

The city was quieter at this hour, and only the streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement.

Halfway through the park path, Dylan slowed.

Something felt wrong.

Up ahead, a moonlit corner of the small park revealed a girl surrounded by three men.

Their voices were low and threatening. The girl had her hands raised in front of her, her posture stiff with fear.

Dylan exhaled, annoyed. He decided to keep walking. This was not his business. His night was already heavy with worry about Axel.

He took another step.

Then a voice stopped him.

A voice he knew.

“Stop. Please do not touch me.”

His entire body went still.