My Milf Conqueror System novel Chapter 202

Chapter 202: The suspicion

[Jake’s POV]

The atmosphere inside the Golden Koi had shifted from tense to toxic.

It had been three days since the confrontation with Wei in the VIP room, and three nights since I had started sleeping in Li’s private quarters. We hadn’t crossed the final physical line—the System’s Conquest notification was still pending—but the emotional intimacy was absolute. She relied on me for everything. I was her sounding board, her shield, and the only person in the syndicate she trusted with her life.

But my rapid ascension from a street-level runner to the Matriarch’s right hand had not gone unnoticed.

I stood by the reinforced steel door of the counting room on the ground floor, my arms crossed, watching the morning collection come in. The room was a hive of activity, filled with the smell of old paper and the rapid, rhythmic clicking of money-counting machines.

Ethan walked in, carrying a heavy duffel bag filled with the day’s take from the Inner Harbour vendors. He looked exhausted, his gray hoodie stained with sweat, but he gave me a subtle, reassuring nod as he approached the main table. He was still playing his role perfectly, keeping his head down and doing the grunt work while I operated in the penthouse.

"Put it on the scale, Cross," a harsh, gravelly voice barked.

Gao, the scarred enforcer, stepped out from the shadows of the counting room. He was the Golden Koi’s head of security, a man who had spent fifteen years breaking bones and shedding blood for the syndicate. And he absolutely despised me.

I watched Gao closely. His body language was tight, aggressive. He didn’t look at Ethan; his dark, hateful eyes were locked entirely on me. He resented the fact that a foreign "ghost" had bypassed the hierarchy and secured the Matriarch’s ear. He resented the tailored suit I was wearing. But most of all, he resented the fact that Li no longer looked to him for protection.

Ethan hoisted the duffel bag onto the heavy steel table, unzipping it to reveal stacks of bundled Macau Patacas and Hong Kong Dollars.

Gao stepped forward, pulling a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and snapping them onto his hands. He didn’t use the counting machines. He began sorting through the bundles manually, his eyes darting between the cash and Ethan’s nervous face.

"Inner Harbour route," Gao muttered, his voice dripping with suspicion. "Supposed to be a heavy collection today. The fish markets had a good weekend."

"It’s all there," Ethan said, his voice tight. "Count it yourself."

"I am counting it," Gao snapped. He pulled a thick bundle of hundreds from the bottom of the bag, weighing it in his hand. He frowned, his scarred face twisting into a scowl. He tossed the bundle onto the table and pulled a small, black ledger from his jacket pocket—the master collection log.

He ran his finger down the page, comparing the numbers to the stacks on the table.

The room went dead silent. The clicking of the counting machines stopped. The other triad soldiers in the room turned to watch, sensing the sudden, lethal drop in the room’s temperature.

"You’re light," Gao said, his voice echoing in the quiet room. He looked up, his eyes locking onto Ethan with predatory glee. "You’re light by exactly fifty thousand Patacas. That’s a massive skim, Gwailo."

Ethan’s face went pale. "What? No, that’s impossible. I collected exactly what the vendors gave me. I didn’t touch a single bill!"

"Liar," Gao hissed, stepping around the table and closing the distance to Ethan. He reached out, grabbing Ethan by the collar of his hoodie and slamming him back against the concrete wall. "You think because your brother is sleeping in the Matriarch’s bed, you can steal from the syndicate? You think we wouldn’t notice?"

"I didn’t take it!" Ethan yelled, struggling against Gao’s massive grip.

I didn’t shout. I didn’t run. I simply uncrossed my arms and took three slow, deliberate steps forward, placing myself directly behind Gao.

"Let him go, Gao," I said, my voice a low, vibrating rumble that carried the absolute authority of the King.

Gao froze, but he didn’t release Ethan. He slowly turned his head to look at me over his shoulder, his scarred face twisted in a mask of pure hatred.

"Stay out of this, Reed," Gao spat. "Your brother is a thief. The penalty for stealing from the Golden Koi is death. I don’t care whose bed you’re warming. I enforce the law on this floor."

"I said, let him go," I repeated, my voice dropping an octave, the *Emperor’s Presence* flaring just enough to make the air in the room feel heavy and suffocating.

Gao hesitated, the primal fear warring with his bruised ego. Slowly, reluctantly, he released Ethan’s collar, taking a step back. Ethan slumped against the wall, gasping for breath, his eyes wide with panic.

I stepped between them, looking down at the stacks of cash on the table, then back to Gao.

"My brother didn’t steal the money," I said calmly.

"The ledger says otherwise," Gao sneered, tapping the black book. "Fifty thousand missing. And he was the only one carrying the bag."

"He was the only one carrying the bag," I agreed, my eyes locking onto Gao’s. "But he wasn’t the only one who had access to it."

I had been watching Gao for three days. I had seen the resentment building. I had seen the whispered conversations he had with the other guards when he thought I wasn’t looking. I knew he was going to make a move to discredit me, and Ethan was the obvious weak link.

I didn’t need the System to tell me what had happened. It was a classic, low-level triad frame job.

"What are you implying, ghost?" Gao hissed, his hand dropping toward the heavy pistol holstered at his waist.

"I’m not implying anything," I said smoothly. I turned to the other guards in the room, raising my voice so everyone could hear. "When Liam brought the bag into the building, he passed through the rear security checkpoint. Standard protocol dictates that the bag is scanned and weighed by the door guards before it enters the counting room. Who was working the rear door this morning?"

The guards exchanged nervous glances. Finally, a young, terrified-looking soldier raised his hand. "I was, sir."

"Did you weigh the bag?" I asked.

"Yes, sir," the young guard stammered.

"And what was the weight?"

The guard swallowed hard, glancing nervously at Gao before looking back at me. "It was... it was heavy, sir. It matched the expected collection weight perfectly."

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