Tremble, tremble as much as you can! (3)

"Paul, maybe you think I can only rely on brute strength, but in my eyes, your family is no more significant than an ant."

John spoke in a low, composed voice as he stood in front of Paul.

Bang!

Startled, Paul took a step back and accidentally struck the corner of the table with his back, wincing in pain.

Shame!

As the head of the illustrious Holland Family, he had just been frightened—by nothing more than a young man's words.

"I… I admit you're skilled at fighting," Paul stammered, regaining his composure and then shouting in anger, "but no matter how strong you are, you're still just one man! Can you fight against the entire Holland Family?"

His voice rang out, trying to drown his embarrassment.

The stunned crowd finally snapped back to reality.

They had all been shocked by John's incredible combat ability. He had just fought off over a dozen bodyguards single-handedly—without even a scratch. Was this some kind of movie stunt?

And yet, despite their awe, most agreed with Paul.

No matter how formidable John was, he was still just one man. Could he really fend off a dozen? A hundred? Could he really challenge the entire Holland Family?

And worse, he dared to claim that the Holland Family was no more than an ant? How arrogant!

Click. Click.

At that moment, the sharp, echoing sound of leather shoes on marble filled the air.

A middle-aged man in a crisp suit pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The moment he appeared, a wave of shock rippled through the room.

"Maxwell? What are you doing here?"

Paul's pupils shrank in disbelief.

Then something clicked in his mind. His expression twisted in anger.

"So that's it! I was wondering why this guy was so cocky. Turns out, he has your Remar Family backing him!"

The Remar and Holland Families were two of the most powerful clans in New York—equal in strength, influence, and wealth.

And Maxwell was the head of the Remar Family.

"Oh, I see now," Paul sneered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "It looks like this isn't just a personal feud. It's a full-blown power struggle between two of New York's top families!"

The media reporters buzzing around caught onto Paul's line of thought instantly. They nodded in agreement, convinced they'd uncovered the real story behind the confrontation.

To them, it made perfect sense. Maxwell was the mysterious force supporting John behind the scenes.

But Maxwell frowned, clearly confused.

"What are you talking about?"

Support? What support?

He was here for something else entirely.

Without sparing another glance at the crowd, Maxwell strode confidently toward Queenie. Then, in a firm, ringing voice, he declared:

"Maxwell of the Remar Family, under the personal order of the Duke of Southern River, hereby delivers a contract for one billion dollars to Queenie Group."

Boom!

A figurative earthquake tore through the room.

The Duke of Southern River?!

A one-billion-dollar contract?!

Everyone was stunned into silence.

Before they could even process the shock, an elderly man in traditional robes stepped into the room.

"Roger Sinclaire of the Sinclaire Family, under the order of the Duke of Southern River, delivers a one-billion-dollar contract to Queenie Group."

Another top-tier family in New York!

Another billion-dollar deal!

Again—the Duke of Southern River!

What was going on?!

But it didn't stop there.

One by one, more legendary figures entered the room—each with the same announcement:

"Silvia Tennat of the Tennat Family, under the order of the Duke of Southern River, delivers a contract worth one billion dollars to Queenie Group."

"George Wodehouse of the Wodehouse Family, under the order of the Duke of Southern River, delivers a contract worth one billion dollars to Queenie Group."

"Rudolph Spence of the Spence Family, under the order of the Duke of Southern River, delivers a contract worth one billion dollars to Queenie Group."

One by one, they came.

And then came the final blow.

"I am Leo Glenn. On behalf of the Duke of Southern River, I present a contract worth five billion dollars to Queenie Group."

Five billion.

And it came from a direct relative of the Duke himself.

By now, everyone's senses were numbed by shock, yet somehow, this announcement pierced through the haze and struck them like thunder.

In the conference room, half of New York's elite were now gathered—heads of powerful clans that rarely showed themselves in public.

If news of this gathering spread, it would send tremors through the entire city—perhaps even the country.

Everyone desperately wanted to know—why?!

Even Queenie, who was normally composed and confident, was visibly shaken.

Her employees at Queenie Group were frozen in place.

These were clans they used to revere from a distance—gods beyond reach. And yet now, each one came forward in turn, offering Queenie Group massive orders.

One billion.

Five billion.

These contracts would immediately catapult Queenie Group from a struggling company into one of the most powerful enterprises in New York.

The company would ascend—soar into the skies.

Breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly, Queenie turned toward Leo, her voice trembling.

"Le…Leo, what is going on?"

She voiced the same question that haunted every mind in the room.

But Leo only smiled and said casually, "Queenie, there's no need to ask. These are just a few small gifts. Accept them."

Then, his gaze shifted for a brief moment.

Queenie noticed it.

She followed his eyes and saw who he had glanced at—John.

Her heart shook.

Her dear younger brother—John!

It had to be because of him!

He was the reason Leo and the others came.

Her eyes filled with tears.

No wonder John had remained so calm this entire time. He had known all along what was coming.

And yet… she had slapped him.

Her heart ached with guilt.

"You're insane, Leo! Maxwell, Roger… All of you must be insane!"

Paul's voice broke through the silence, laced with disbelief and denial.

He couldn't accept what he saw.

Yes, Leo was powerful—but not powerful enough to make all these top families fall in line.

So why?

Why were they lining up to give away billions?

He couldn't wrap his head around it.

At that moment, Leo gave a cold snort and said, "Paul, perhaps you and I should have a little chat."

No one heard what they discussed.

But when Paul returned, his entire body was trembling.

His rage had vanished—replaced with pure fear.

"I… I'll kill you, you beast!"

Suddenly, Paul grabbed a chair and smashed it repeatedly into Karl, who collapsed unconscious after a few savage blows.

The room collectively gasped.

Even a vicious tiger spares its own cubs.

But Paul had beaten his own son without mercy.

No one could understand what had terrified him so much.

But Paul understood.

During that brief conversation, Leo had revealed the truth:

The man behind Queenie… was the King of Horizon.

The King of Horizon!

If Paul didn't punish Karl now, the Holland Family would be next to be destroyed.

How could he not be afraid?

And even though Leo didn't explicitly reveal the King of Horizon's identity, Paul had already guessed—

It had to be John.

Now, he finally understood John's words earlier.

"In my eyes, your family is no different from an ant."

It wasn't just arrogance.

He was speaking the truth.

Even the most elite clans in the capital were ants in the eyes of the King of Horizon.

The Holland Family?

They were dust.

"Can I speak now?" John asked, his tone calm and light.

All eyes turned to him instantly.

The room fell so silent, even the sound of a pin dropping would've echoed like thunder.

"I said before," John continued, his eyes sweeping the room, "you all owe Queenie an apology."

He took a single step forward.

"Now, are you ready to kneel?"