The Tyrant Billionaire

For instance, Los Angeles once had more than four or five major factions, as did San Francisco. The situation where Hardy unified all of Los Angeles under his control was rare.

Cohenheim watched Monroe on stage with intense desire. The woman fascinated him, and his mind raced with thoughts of possessing her—of making her his woman.

When a man becomes obsessed with such thoughts, it can be terrifying.

He knew Monroe was a star created by ABC, which was owned by HD Group. He had also heard of HD Group's boss, Jon Hardy.

But in his mind, he justified his actions: Monroe was just an actress, and Jon Hardy probably wouldn't care enough to start a serious conflict over a woman. Besides, Hardy was in Los Angeles, and he was in Houston. With 500 to 600 men under his command, even if there was a conflict, so what?

And he had the Irish Union backing him.

After the show, the performers returned to their hotel to rest for the night before heading to New Orleans the next day. But as soon as the girls got back to the hotel, two men wearing hats knocked on Monroe's door.

"Miss Monroe, our boss invites you to dinner. Please come with us now."

Monroe blinked in surprise.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Sorry, I don't know your boss, and I'm not interested in going."

Monroe started to close the door.

"Bang!"

Before she could shut it, one of the men violently shoved the door open, scaring Monroe, who stumbled backward. The girl sharing the room with her screamed in fear.

"Girl, you got some serious guts, comin' up here and turnin' down our boss on our streets? You really think you're walkin' out of Houston alive? Better come with us nice and easy, or we'll be dumpin' you in the bay for the fish to finish off." the man who shoved the door open growled at Monroe menacingly.

Monroe was terrified, standing there pale with fear.

The girl sharing the room was so scared she hid between the bed frames, too frightened to come out.

One of the men grabbed Monroe's arm and began dragging her out. Just as Monroe was completely at a loss for what to do, two security guards from HD, who had accompanied the troupe, heard the commotion and quickly rushed out of their room. They saw the two men dragging Monroe and immediately intervened.

A fight broke out between the four men.

Monroe was thrown aside, trembling in fear by the wall.

The two thugs were no match for the security guards. After a few rounds, they were both beaten to the ground. One of them reached for his gun, but the security guard was faster, pulling out his gun and aiming it at them.

The two thugs were stunned.

Knowing they were at a disadvantage, they glared at the guards and spat, "Just wait. Don't think you can leave Houston."

With that, they scrambled out of the hotel.

After questioning Monroe and understanding the situation, the security guards realized things were not looking good. At this time, gang activity in the U.S. was rampant—this was the norm. Los Angeles was different because of Hardy's control, which had turned it into a true City of Angels.

The guards felt uneasy.

They notified the troupe leader, who also panicked, eventually deciding to call the police.

But the security guards still weren't reassured. They called HD Security Headquarters to report the situation.

"We suspect the gang will retaliate and may harm Miss Monroe and others," the guard said.

The shift leader in the intelligence command center thought for a moment and said, "Gather everyone in one room to avoid any separation."

"Also, you should have the big guns with you. If things get dangerous, shoot. If anything happens, the company will take responsibility."

"Are we allowed to kill?" asked the guard.

"Use your judgment."

"Understood."

After receiving the order, the two security guards immediately moved everyone into the hotel's large conference room. The entire troupe of performers and staff, over 50 people, were crammed into one room, all of them frightened out of their wits.

The guards pulled out two large bags from their room, filled with guns—pistols, shotguns, submachine guns, and a large supply of ammunition.

Each guard holstered two pistols at their waist, slung shotguns over their shoulders, and loaded their Tommy guns with drum magazines. One stood on the balcony, while the other positioned himself at the second floor hallway, overlooking the lobby entrance.

The troupe leader nervously peeked downstairs and anxiously asked, "I've already called the police. Why aren't they here yet?"

Vroom, vroom, vroom~~!

The roar of car engines grew louder.

The troupe leader's heart leaped in relief, assuming the police had arrived. He instinctively looked downstairs but immediately froze in terror. Instead of the police, more than a dozen cars had arrived, and from them emerged men in black trench coats and hats—clearly gangsters.

"Go in and grab them all. Take them back," someone shouted.

The group of men began heading for the hotel.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat~!

The sharp sound of machine gunfire rang out, bullets striking the ground in front of the gangsters' feet, causing them to turn and run, hiding behind their cars.

"Damn it! They dared to shoot at us. Grab your guns and take them down!"

The gangsters pulled out their own guns and fired at the roof, but their position was too disadvantageous. A spray of bullets hit their car roofs, sending them scurrying back to cover.

"Let's see how long they can hold out. This is Houston," one of the gang leaders shouted as he turned to report the situation to his boss, Cohenheim.

The standoff continued.

Hardy was reading documents when he suddenly received a call from HD Security. Lancer reported the situation: a local gang had targeted Monroe and tried to forcefully take her, resulting in a confrontation with the bodyguards. The guards had now gathered the entire troupe in the conference room and were holding the entrance, locked in a standoff with the gangsters.

Hardy's eyes grew cold.

"Send Richard team, Matthew team, Neil team, Leo team, and Chris team to Houston immediately. Have them resolve this as quickly as possible."

"Get Henry to provide intelligence."

"Understood," Lancer replied, immediately organizing the response.