Chapter 372
Florence stormed up to Alex, her face twisted with rage, voice trembling on the edge of a scream.
“You hit Madam Henny first, you idiot! You handed her the perfect excuse to come after us! This all started because of you p>
She stabbed her finger toward the inferno raging outside, the flames painting her
face in violent orange.
“Look at that mansion—burning to the ground! Why is this happening to us? Because of you p>
“We got stabbed because of you! Ever since you walked into our lives, nothing good has happened to us-nothing p>
Alex lifted an eyebrow, calm in the face of her fury. The truth was, if he hadn’t stepped in, Florence and Jack would already be dead.
And as for “nothing good well, thanks to him, Sophia now wore the title of Governor of Paris.
But she wasn’t entirely wrong-Henny had plenty of reasons to want revenge, and yes, one of them was him.
Florence’s glare was like a blade. “Now our mansion is gone. You’d better give me that money, or I swear I’ll chase you to my last breath. I’ll trade my life if that’s what it takes to hunt every dollar down p>
Alex studied her in silence.
This wasn’t just about greed-this was obsession.
Florence would pursue him until one of them was dead, willing to gamble her own life if it meant getting her hands on the money.
“Mom,” Sophia stepped in.
“Alex doesn’t have that kind of money. You know who he is. Where’s he supposed to get five million dollars? Be reasonable p>
“Reasonable?” Jack limped in, bandages wrapping half his body. He smirked through the pain.
“This man’s the famous boy toy of Jasmine Kingston. How can you say he’s broke? He’s got everything Kingston has p>
“Watch your mouth, Jack,” Sophia snapped.
“Oh, come on, Sophia,” Florence cut in, eyes glinting.
“Everyone knows. He’s Kingston’s kept man. No need to hide it. Now hand over the money p>
Alex had been considering giving Florence the golden mansion he rarely used— worth a hundred times more than the one she’d lost.
But looking at these two-faces twisted with greed-he changed his mind in an instant.
Fine. Let them have what they really wanted.
Five million dollars? That was pocket change to him-worth less than a single miracle pill.
Still, they’d just lost their chance at a golden mansion because they couldn’t keep their greed in check.
“Mother, enough,” Sophia said, her patience fraying.
“I’m moving to Paris. It’s closer to my work. You should all just follow me p>
“Fine,” Florence said coldly, “but not until I get my five million p>
“Mom-” Sophia began, but Alex cut her off.
“Whatever. Five million it is. I’ll transfer it to your account tomorrow p>
The three of them froze, stunned.
“What? Why are you shocked?” Alex asked, almost bored.
“Do you really have that kind of money?” Sophia asked carefully.
“Of course,” Jack sneered before Alex could answer. “He gets paid every time he sleeps with Jasmine p>
Alex ignored him. “Lyra owes me that much p>
“Lyra p>
“You remember the Guise fights I entered? I placed a winning bet, and Lyra’s holding my payout. Tell her I want five million from it p>
Alex knew Lyra had already taken the money from the Guise family-they were the house in those fights.
Even though the family was gone, the corporation managing their debts had either already paid her or was under her control.
And Alex knew one thing for certain about Lyra-she never swallowed a loss.
Jack barked a laugh. “Betting fight? You mean you fought Lyra in bed too, and she’s gotta pay you for that? Damn, Alex, I didn’t know you were such a hit with the upper class p>
Alex’s gaze sharpened, but before he could speak, Florence sneered.
“I don’t care where you get the
money. As long as I have my five million we’ll call it even for the house. But after this-” she leaned in, her tone venomous- “you stay away from my daughter p>
“Whatever just ask Lyra. She’ll pay you,” Alex said flatly.
Sophia’s eyes burned with fury. “So it’s true. First Jasmine Kingston, now Lyra-
my best friend? You really are nothing but a boy toy p>
Alex frowned, genuinely confused, “Sophia, we’re just business partners. She’s helping me sell some of my medicine, that’s all. How the hell can you call me that p>
“Hmph. Seems like you’ve slept with everyone-maybe even Kelly, right after Josephine. I really don’t understand you p>
She spun on her heel, refusing to hear another word. On her way out, she brought
her heel down hard on his foot, making him flinch from the sharp jolt of pain.
And just like that, the brutal, ugly encounter came to an end.
When the firefighters combed through the smoldering ruins, they found no trace of Madam Henny or Clarissa’s bodies.
But then the internet exploded with something far worse—a nonstop, 24-hour video of Henny and Clarissa locked in a grotesque sex party with dozens of men.
It went viral instantly, dragging the Montclair name through the mud across Chicago.
At the Montclair’s meeting hall, Betty slammed her palm on the table so hard the sound cracked through the room.
“You Montclairs work harder than anyone I know-at destroying what’s left of our family name p>
“Do you plan to deal with this only after it’s turned to ash? Where are Henny and Clarissa? Why can’t we even reach them p>
One of the older elders pressed a hand to her forehead.
“After what they’ve done? A sex party with forty men, streamed to the whole world? They’ll never have the face to return p>
“Maybe they’ve already run. And if they have… it won’t save them. We’ll kill them to wipe away this shame p>
“Yes!” another voice barked. “Send people to hunt them down and finish it p>
“This is beyond disgraceful. They’ve ruined the Montclair name,” a third elder
spat.
The meeting turned into a storm of voices—outrage, condemnation, and pure fury toward Henny.
Those who had once backed her fell silent, cornered, forced to pick a side.
Finally, Betty rose to her feet, her gaze sweeping the room like a blade.
“So, Montclairs… do you want to drag this humiliation out any longer? Or will you finally name my granddaughter Sophia as the matriarch of this family p>
The elders exchanged tense glances.
Lyra Thompson was on a warpath, hunting down every debt owed to her.
Henny-the leader of the opposition—was now disgraced beyond repair. No one could stop what was coming.
“I agree,” one elder said at last. Then another. Then another. One by one, they voiced their support.
“This is the only way to save the Montclair family,” an elder muttered.
In the end, all agreed—except for one.
“I don’t agree,” Betty said, shattering her own earlier stance.
The room froze. Shock rippled across the table.
“Before, some of you stood with Henny and treated me like garbage,” Betty said
coldly.
“Now I’ll give you two choices. One: leave the Montclair family forever. Two: get
on your knees and beg me for forgiveness p>
Five of the twelve elders turned pale. They were the ones who had openly
opposed her before.
“Betty, don’t push your luck,” one elder warned.
“Push my luck?” Betty’s lip curled in a sneer.
“I could just tell my granddaughter Sophia to walk away from this sinking ship altogether. She’s already acting Governor of Paris. And some states are ready to push her to become the real Governor p>
Everyone knew Sophia was the only one who could keep this sinking ship afloat.
And every Montclaire elder in the room knew the truth-no one ever simply walked away from the family.
The only way out was in a coffin. Walking away meant being hunted until death.
Betty’s eyes gleamed with cold cruelty. “Now… get on your knees and kiss my feet p>
In that moment, they understood-Betty Montclair was not a woman to be trifled
with.
She was ruthless to the bone.