His Lordship Alexander Kane by Useless Caesar

Chapter 0144

The bullet tore through the air with lethal speed.

However, Alexander was quicker..

As Sean’s finger squeezed the trigger, Alexander swiftly jerked his head to the side

and stepped forward, his form blurring like a mirage..

The nightclub erupted in gasps as Alexander seemed to vanish and reappear in

front of Sean. Alexander’s hand grabbed Sean by the throat, hoisting him into the air

as if he weighed nothing.

Simultaneously, a decorative flower basket in the hall’s corner exploded into a shower of petals, the

bullet’s intended target then a cloud of fluttering color.

“No, this can’t be!”

Sean’s bulky frame flailed in Alexander’s iron grip, his legs thrashing and his screams tearing through

the chaos.

Had Alexander just dodged a bullet? His movement was a blur, his reflexes outpacing the speeding

lead, his actions as swift as lightning.

It was a scene straight out of a blockbuster film, unfolding in stark reality. How was

that even possible?

“Sean.”



Alexander ignored the stunned onlookers and glared at Sean. His voice was a sharp blade. “I spared

you back at Wakefield, but you learned nothing. You dared to kidnap my family, to sell them like chattel.

“There are sins even the heavens forgive, but the sins of a man like you… They’re unforgivable. You’ve

sealed your fate.”

With those final words, Alexander’s fingers snapped shut. A sickening crack echoed through the hall as

Sean’s neck gave way. His eyes bulged in terror as his life was snuffed out by the man he wronged.

Blood oozed from the corner of his mouth as the heavyset’s body shook violently at few times before

his legs kicked out and he collapsed to the ground.

“Hmph!”

With a disdainful snort, Alexander tossed Sean’s lifeless body aside and scanned the hall

authoritatively. “So, you’re the esteemed bigwigs of Woolpackton?! Let’s get one thing straight tonight:

Ol‘ Mare’s New Chesire Group isn’t something you can mess with! Anyone looking for trouble, just take

Sean as your cautionary tale!”

Without sparing a glance at Tommy cowering on the floor, Alexander turned, took

Amber by the hand, and–with Olivia in his arms–walked out of the nightclub with a

commanding presence. The crowd was left in stunned silence.

The night was far from over.

The incident at Youphoria Nightclub spread like wildfire through Woolpackton’s underworld, sending

shockwaves among the factions, particularly those with ambitions against Ol‘ Mare, who were then

squirming with unease.



That midnight, in the opulent rooftop suite of Youphoria Nightclub…

“I’ve had people look into this Alexander boy,” Tommy said, his face dark with worry as he addressed

the other faction leaders. He gritted his teeth. “He’s an ex–Northern Wyverna Frontier Corps. He

recently made a name for himself by taking down. Mark’s crew all on his own, and now he’s made a

statement at my club… Does anyone have any idea how we handle Alexander?”

The room fell into a tense silence.

Lately, the streets have been buzzing with too much action. The underground scene in Ol‘ Mare had a

new kingpin–George, a former mobster who had hung up his spurs, then ruled the roost. The old guard

of crime lords were eating out of his hand, and their shady businesses were cleaning up their act at

breakneck speed.

Then there was Mark Aares, the big shot of Aaronson who took a hit without a peep, all thanks to

Alexander’s game.

7/4

All those moves were flashing a neon sign of warning Alexander was an

untouchable force of nature.

“Alexander is the son–in–law of Patrick, the nobody”

In a gathering of the heavy hitters, there was Harry, strapped into a wheelchair,

bandaged up, his face the color of storm clouds “I visited Of Mare a few days back,

and Alexander gave me this souvenir! Who knew the guy could sidestep bullets?

With skills like that…we’re out of our league trying to take him on!”



Tommy sat in silence, the weight of the room on his shoulders. Finally, he pressed

out the words like they were made of lead. “Mister Hardy.”

Drake Hardy? The name alone was enough to turn the heavy hitters‘ faces ghostly

pale.

Seven years back, before Tommy made his mark, Drake was the big fish in Province

Town, his tentacles reaching across Tormora.

When Drake said he was out of the game for good, his empire pulled back from the underworld’s

chessboard. Nonetheless, Drake still had his finger on the pulse of

Tormora. Nothing slipped by him.

“Mister Hardy…” Harry inhaled sharply, his eyes turning into slits.

The name Drake Hardy was like a king’s scepter in the underground branch. His word was law, and

there was not a mess he could not clean up.

The most feared enforcer in all of Tormora, the top dog in Mister Hardy’s pack, was unbeatable. Even

Tommy’s seasoned right–hand man, Mister Posey, could not lay a

glove on him.

If anyone could take down Alexander, it had to be the formidable Mister Hardy.

Tommy’s face darkened as he brooded over recent events. “Mister Hardy must’ve heard about the

nightclub fiasco by now.” His voice was laced with venom. Alexander had the gall to cross me, to injure



my son and murder Sean right before my eyes. This vendetta runs deep, and I won’t rest until it’s

settled.

“How can we convince Mister Hardy to join our cause and eliminate Alexander?” he

implored the gathered heavy hitters.

They exchanged uneasy glances, their smiles tinged with resignation. Drake was out

of their league–too influential, too powerful, too merciless. Even Tommy might not

sway him.

Thinking Drake would go after Alexander was a joke. Drake was nobody’s fool.

“Got to find a way…” Tommy muttered, his jaw set, eyes flashing with a dangerous

light.

‘Alexander, you think you can disrupt my club and tarnish my reputation without consequence? I’ll use

whatever means necessary. You’re a dead man, and I’ll be the one to make it happen, Tommy thought

to himself.

