My Milf Conqueror System novel Chapter 235

Chapter 235: The Transfer

[Jake’s POV]

The driveway smelled like gunpowder and wet gravel.

Zhao was still on his knees. He was breathing hard. His expensive suit was dirty now. Sweat and dust on the lapels.

Mei-Ling stood three feet in front of him. The revolver was down, but her finger was still near the trigger guard. Her face was stone.

Behind us, Mei-Ling’s private security was zip-tying the unconscious men. No one was talking. The only sounds were the wind in the trees and the distant sirens that weren’t coming up the mountain yet.

Zhao looked up at his wife. His eyes were desperate.

"Mei-Ling, please," he said. His voice cracked. "You don’t understand. If I don’t pay them—"

"You brought guns to my home," she cut him off. "You ordered them to break my doors."

"I didn’t have a choice!"

"There is always a choice," she said. "You chose violence. You chose to drag your street war into my house."

Zhao flinched like she’d slapped him.

I stepped between them.

His eyes flicked to me. Fear. Then rage. He lunged.

It was sloppy. Telegraphic.

I caught him by the throat with one hand and slammed him back against the side of the crippled SUV. Metal dented. The air left his lungs in a whoosh.

"You don’t touch her," I said. Low.

I could feel his pulse hammering against my palm. His hands clawed at my wrist. Useless.

I let go. He slid down to the gravel, coughing.

I looked at Mei-Ling. She hadn’t moved.

"He’s a liability," I told her. "As long as he holds the title of syndicate boss, the Four Dragons will hold him responsible for the Crimson Triad’s debts. And they will come looking for your assets to settle those debts."

"What are you suggesting, Mr. Reed?" she asked. Her voice was calm. Too calm.

"I’m suggesting a transfer of power," I said.

I let Zhao go. He stayed on the ground, rubbing his throat.

"The Crimson Triad is finished, Zhao," I said, looking down at him. "You have no soldiers, no inventory, and no capital. If you stay in Macau, Han or Lin will kill you just to absorb your empty territory."

Zhao coughed. He looked around the driveway. At his men zip-tied. At the blown tires. The reality was finally sinking in. He was done.

"I have a boat waiting at the Inner Harbour," I lied. The words came out smooth. "It leaves for the Philippines in one hour. You get on that boat, you disappear, and you never come back to Macau."

Zhao looked up. A flicker of hope. Pathetic and desperate.

"You’ll let me leave?" he asked.

"On one condition," I said.

I reached inside my jacket. Pulled out a folded document. Claire had it drafted and printed before we left the safehouse. Standard transfer of ownership. Legal. Binding.

I tossed it onto the hood of the SUV. The paper made a soft sound.

I handed Zhao a pen. Black. Cheap.

"You sign over full executive control of the Crimson Triad’s holding companies and all associated street-level territories to your wife," I ordered. "You sever your ties to the syndicate completely."

Zhao stared at the document. His hand was shaking.

This was his death warrant as a triad boss. But it was also his ticket out alive.

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