Chapter 35: Tiffany's Outburst

MANILA, PHILIPPINES

Neon lights and naked women welcomed them as Tiffany and the Don stepped into Gracias Bar. Yuan and several bodyguards followed closely, their eyes scanning the crowded room, wary of every movement.

The del Cargadors owned several bars around Manila, but this was the most exclusive—where the rich and powerful came to drink, negotiate, and settle business in dimly lit corners.

"We're here to meet with the Murillo Clan," her father murmured, his tone measured. "Try to behave. Let Yuan and me do the talking."

Tiffany's jaw tightened. "Why can't I talk?" She shot a glare at Yuan, disgust curling in her stomach. "I might have better plans."

Her father exhaled slowly as if speaking to a child. "You didn't even succeed in your mission. What makes you think you can contribute something?" His voice remained calm, but his words cut.

"If you hadn't summoned me here, I should have been executing the assassination by now," she spat.

"Just accept it already. The Brotherhood leadership just doesn't suit you, hija. Please, stop arguing with me," he angrily said as he grabbed her arm.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked, fury laced in his voice.

The Don's expression hardened. "Not now, Tiffany."

Tiffany wrenched his arm free. The Don brushed past her and Yuan followed, wearing a smirk that made her fingers itch to choke him.

Heaving a sigh, she fell in step behind them.

Inside, half-dressed women draped themselves over leather couches, giggling as they approached. A waiter set down a platter of drugs and a row of expensive liquor bottles on the table. Tiffany poured herself a drink, downing the liquor in one gulp, the burn barely registering.

Yuan leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. "You asked earlier why your father won't let you lead."

She turned to him, brows furrowed. "Enlighten me."

He chuckled, low and taunting. "Because you're a short-tempered brat."

A dark, humorless laugh escaped her lips. "Who are you kidding, Yuan? I'm better than you. Papa knows it."

"Better?" Yuan took a sip from his glass, eyes gleaming. "You couldn't even kill Lucio Hernandez. I heard you and that guy had an affair."

Tiffany's grip tightened around the glass. "Where did you get that bullshit?"

Yuan smirked, unfazed. "I can see it in your eyes, señorita. You liked him."

Tiffany scoffed, shaking her head. "No matter what happens, Yuan, you'll never be the Alpha Don."

He leaned back, lips curling at the edges. "We'll see about that."

After a few minutes of waiting, the formidable members of the Murillo clan arrived, and shortly after, the meeting began.

Tiffany scanned the room—fifteen men. Eight from the Alpha Brotherhood, seven from the Murillo Clan. She sat between Yuan and an unfamiliar man whose presence made her skin crawl. He was grotesque—balding, gap-toothed, his ears slightly too pointed for his bloated face.

As the discussion continued, the man inched closer, the stench of sweat and cheap cologne clinging to him. Then he leaned in and sniffed her neck.

Her stomach churned. She shot him a glare. He only grinned.

"Fuck off," she muttered under her breath.

The man chuckled, shifting closer. Tiffany stiffened as his hand landed on her exposed thigh.

"What can you do now, slut?"

Her vision blurred with red, and before anyone could react, she drew her revolver, shoving the barrel against his forehead.

Gasps echoed around the room as guns were immediately drawn—Alpha Brotherhood against the Murillos.

"Tiffany, calm down!" Yuan snapped.

Her father's voice was softer but firm. "Hija, put the gun down."

Ignoring them, she pulled the trigger. The first shot ripped through the ceiling. The second buried itself near the bastard's foot.

"What is the meaning of this?" the leader of the Murillos clan bellowed as he pointed the gun at Don Alejandro.

"Mr. Murillos, we did not plan this—m-my daughter—arrgg!" Unable to explain the mess, he angrily walked over Tiffany and dragged her by her hair.

"What the fuck did you just do!"

"I was just protecting myself!" Tiffany exclaimed amidst the pain writhing on her scalp.

The bar fell into chaos—music stopped, screams filled the air, and chairs screeched against the floor as people scrambled away.

Tiffany's instinct kicked in as she wrung her father's arm, causing the old man to let her hair go. Tiffany stepped closer to the guy who assaulted her and ignored his father's angry outburst. Pressing the muzzle of the gun against the man's temple, she said, "Try that again, and I swear I'll put a bullet in your head."

"That," her father cut her off, voice shaking, "was the only son of Consuelo Murillo. A multi-billionaire. Our only chance at a stronger alliance. And you—" he exhaled sharply, "—you just ruined it."

Tiffany's blood boiled. "So what was I supposed to do? Sit there and let that bastard put his hands on me? What kind of father are you?"

His eyes darkened. "Do not question my role as your father. Without me, you would be nothing."

A bitter laugh bubbled from her throat. "You don't care about me, Papa. You never did."

Their heated argument was interrupted when Consuello Murillo spoke. "Is that your daughter? She would be a great leader in the brotherhood, Alejandro."

Everybody went silent.

"B-but she's a w-women—"

"Oh, come on, Alejandro. You're indeed an old-fashioned prick. No wonder alliances turn their backs against you… anyway, I'd be glad to invite you to dinner some other time, my dear," he said, gesturing to her side. "You just earned my respect."

Tiffany smiled at Consuello before storming out of the bar, her high heels clicking against the pavement.

The night air was thick, humid, and suffocating. She had nowhere to go, but she kept walking. A few of her men trailed behind. She spun around and screamed at them. "Leave me alone!" but they refused to listen. "I said, leave me alone!"

Yuan appeared, hands in his pockets, looking far too comfortable for someone who had just witnessed the turn of events.

"Let me handle her," he told the bodyguards.

Tiffany glared at him but somehow felt relieved upon seeing the bodyguards retreat.

"Stop following me, Yuan. You're not a dog." She paused, smirking. "Or maybe you are. My father's dog."

"Where are you going?" he asked, ignoring the jab.

"Why the fuck do you care?" She scoffed. "You wanted me to screw up anyway, so why pretend?"

Yuan caught her wrist. She yanked it away. "Go back to my father's side," she said menacingly, "and suck his dick."

Yuan grabbed her, pinning her against the nearest wall. His breath was uneven, hot against her ear. For a split second, she felt like she was back in that room, that disgusting man hovering over her.

"Get your filthy hands off me."

Realizing his mistake, Yuan stepped back. "My apologies, señorita. Look… I'm not them," Yuan said. "I'm your ally."

She narrowed her eyes. "Bullshit. You want to rule the Brotherhood. That's why you plan to kill Lucio behind my back. You think I don't know?"

Yuan sighed, then extended his hand. "Your father only wants what's best for you," Yuan said.

Tiffany shook her head. "I don't believe you! And I will never ever trust you again!"