My Milf Conqueror System novel Chapter 237

Chapter 237: The Severance

[Jake’s POV]

The first gunshot cracked through the night.

Sharp. Close. It echoed off the stone walls and rolled down the hill.

Mei-Ling didn’t flinch. She moved away from the glass, back toward the kitchen island. The silver revolver was still in her hand. Her back was straight.

"Overwatch, give me a tactical layout," I said. My voice was low. The USP was already in my hand. Cold. 15 rounds. Suppressed.

"Three hostiles have breached the front doors," Claire reported. Fast. "They’re in the main entryway. Four more are pinning down the private security detail in the driveway. The rest are securing the perimeter. Zhao is waiting in the lead SUV."

"He sent his thugs to drag his wife out of her own house," I muttered.

The house had an open floor plan. Living room flowed into the foyer. The foyer had two sets of heavy oak doors. Both were splintered now. I could see light from outside cutting through the cracks.

"Mr. Reed," Mei-Ling said. Her voice was steady despite the gunfire outside. "If they breach this room—"

"They won’t," I said.

I didn’t wait for them to clear the foyer. That’s how you lose ground. You hit first.

I moved along the wall. My shoes made no sound on the wood floor. The air smelled like gunpowder now, drifting in from the front.

I turned the corner.

Three men.

Black tactical vests. No uniforms. Compact submachine guns. They were sweeping the entryway like amateurs. Fast, jerky movements. Checking corners that didn’t need checking. They were street thugs. Used to kicking in doors and scaring civilians. Not clearing a structure.

They hadn’t seen me yet.

I raised the USP.

First shot. Forehead. He dropped. No sound except the soft thump of body on marble.

Second shot. Chest. He staggered back into the doorframe and went down.

Third man spun. Eyes wide. He brought his SMG up, finger tightening on the trigger.

I was already moving.

I closed the distance in two steps. Slapped the barrel of his gun up with my left hand. The shot went into the ceiling. Plaster dust fell.

I drove the butt of the USP into his jaw. Bone cracked. He collapsed mid-air. Unconscious before he hit the floor.

The whole thing took four seconds.

"Foyer is clear," I murmured into the comms. My breathing hadn’t even changed.

"Four hostiles remaining in the driveway," Nia said. "They’re moving toward the front doors to back up the entry team. Private security is pinned behind the stone fountain."

I stepped over the bodies. Marble was slick with blood now. The smell was copper and gun oil.

The front doors were half off their hinges. Breaching ram. Splinters everywhere. Cold night air poured in.

I peered out.

The driveway was chaos.

Mei-Ling’s private security — four men in navy polos — were behind a stone fountain. They were returning fire in short, disciplined bursts.

Zhao’s men were using the SUVs for cover. Two black Escalades. Armored. Tires still good. Four men behind them, trading shots.

"Ethan," I said over the comms. "Are you in position?"

"I’m on the ridge overlooking the driveway," Ethan replied. I could hear wind in his mic. "Clear line of sight on the hostiles behind the SUVs."

"Take out their tires," I ordered. "Don’t let them mobilize. I’ll handle the ground team."

A second later.

_Thump. Thump._

Suppressed rifle shots from the tree line.

The front tires on both SUVs blew out. The vehicles dropped onto their rims with a heavy groan of metal.

Zhao’s men panicked. They ducked lower. One of them was shouting and pointing up at the ridge. Completely distracted.

He hit the gravel hard.

"You’re trespassing, Zhao," I said. My voice was flat.

He scrambled back on his hands and knees. His eyes darted around. At his unconscious men. At the blown tires. At the private guards who were now standing.

"You’re the ghost," Zhao stammered. His voice cracked. "The Golden Koi’s new dog."

"I’m the man who just saved your wife’s life," I corrected.

The front doors opened wider behind me.

Mei-Ling stepped out onto the porch.

She was still holding the revolver, but it was down at her side now. Her face was blank.

She looked at the carnage. The broken doors. The unconscious men. Then she looked at her husband, sitting in the gravel in a $3000 suit, shaking.

The disgust in her eyes was absolute.

"Mei-Ling," Zhao pleaded. He got to his feet but kept distance from me. "The police raided the warehouse. Cho took everything. I need the access codes to the holding accounts. We have to liquidate the commercial properties in Taipa to rebuild the routes."

"You brought armed men to my home," Mei-Ling said. Her voice was quiet. But it cut through the night. "You ordered them to break down my doors."

"I didn’t have a choice!" Zhao yelled. Panic was winning now. "The syndicate is dying! If I don’t pay the suppliers by the end of the week, they’ll kill me!"

"Then you will die," Mei-Ling said simply.

Zhao froze.

He stared at her like he didn’t know her.

"I spent five years building a legitimate financial infrastructure for this family," Mei-Ling continued. She walked down the steps. Slow. "I insulated the real estate from your crude, violent street operations. I will not let you burn it to the ground to save your own skin."

She stopped a few feet from him.

"The accounts are frozen," she declared. "The holding companies have been transferred to a blind trust. You have no access to the capital, Zhao. You have nothing."

The severance was complete.