Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1095 The New Dancer

After Song Heping released the tailer, Zayed waited in his luxurious office for two days.

He had assumed that this Dongda student surnamed Song would succumb to his pressure, obediently accept his harsh 20% profit-sharing plan, and call back to beg for mercy.

After all, besides Thazayed, who else in Goa has the ability and courage to take on such a large order involving a large quantity of weapons and sensitive materials?

However, for two days, his phone remained silent.

This unusual silence gradually turned Zayed from initial confidence into anxiety.

He paced back and forth in his expensive Persian carpeted office like a tiger trapped in a cage.

"Damn Boss Dong! Who does he think he is?"

Zayed cursed under his breath, his brow furrowed.

The profits from that deal were so tempting that they were enough to elevate his power to a new level, even surpassing his old rival, Narendra.

He desperately wanted to make the deal, but his long-standing greed and domineering nature in the underworld made him unwilling to easily give up that outrageous 20% commission.

In his view, this was his territory, and he was the one who had to set the rules.

"Could it be... that he went to see Narendra?"

He suddenly stopped walking.

The thought slithered into my mind like a venomous snake.

The Narendra family is one of the largest smuggling groups in western White Elephant State. With its considerable power, it has always been Zayed's biggest rival in Goa.

If that Chinese man were to come to Narendra with such a lucrative business opportunity…

Zayed felt a pang of fear and anger just thinking about it.

"Someone come here!" he suddenly shouted towards the door.

A trusted subordinate immediately pushed open the door and entered, bowing respectfully: "Boss?"

"Go! Investigate immediately! Find out where Song Heping has been these past two days and who he's been in contact with! Especially keep a close eye on Narendra's side and see if they make any unusual moves!"

Zayed's voice carried barely suppressed anger and a hint of barely perceptible anxiety.

"Yes, boss!"

The subordinate accepted the order and hurriedly left.

The hours spent waiting for news felt exceptionally long.

Zayed was distracted and unable to concentrate on other matters, glancing frequently at his silent phone.

He pondered Song Heping's intentions repeatedly, but he couldn't understand how, apart from himself and Narendra, the Chinese man could find a third collaborator with such capabilities in Goa.
Does he dare to go it alone?

Impossible, that would be no different from suicide.

In the afternoon, his trusted subordinate returned, bringing news that only confused Zayed more.

“Boss, our people have searched the airport, the docks, and all the areas he might have been in before, but they haven’t found any trace of that Dong Da guy. He seems to have… disappeared. We’ve also been carefully investigating Narendra, and there’s no indication that they’ve recently been in contact with any important new clients, especially those with Asian features. Their business is proceeding as usual.”

"Disappeared?"

Zayed was stunned; this was completely unexpected.

"How could a living person just vanish into thin air in Goa? You bunch of useless trash!"

He grabbed a crystal ashtray from the table, intending to smash it, but ultimately restrained himself, simply irritably waving his hand to tell his men to get out.

He was alone in the office again.

A feeling of being out of control crept in. The fact that the guy from Tokyo University didn't play by the rules made him feel intensely uneasy.

Damn Tokyo University!

Always so cunning!

The business was on the verge of collapse, and huge profits were about to slip through his fingers, yet he didn't even know where the problem lay.

This feeling of powerlessness infuriated him.

The setting sun streamed through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the room in a restless golden-red hue.

Zayed downed the expensive whiskey in one gulp, but found it utterly tasteless.

He needed to vent, to get rid of this suffocating feeling of irritability.

"Get the car ready!" he ordered in a somber tone as he picked up the intercom. "To 'Carly Night'."

He decided to stop thinking about that damn Dongda guy.

He wanted to go out and have some fun, to numb himself with alcohol and women, and perhaps after indulging, he could come up with a better solution.

He believed that as long as Song Heping remained in Goa and wanted to sell that batch of Persian crude oil, he would eventually come to him for help.

At that point, the conditions might not be as simple as just 20%...

He thought viciously. I have to give him another 5%!

As night falls, Goa sheds the hustle and bustle and heat of the day, donning a luxurious coat of shimmering neon lights.

Luxury cars lined the entrance to Zayed's favorite nightclub, "Kali Nights," with well-dressed men and women coming and going, and the air filled with a decadent atmosphere of alcohol, perfume, and desire.

Zayed's car silently glided into the VIP passage exclusive to "Kali's Night," where a courteous waiter jogged forward to open the car door.

Surrounded by bodyguards, he walked with a gloomy face and without looking to the side through the dimly lit and deafeningly loud dance floor area, heading straight for his private room on the second floor with the best location and view.

His favorite spirits and fruit platter had already been prepared in the private room.

After waving away the manager who wanted to serve him, Zayed walked alone to the huge one-way glass viewing platform.

From here, he could overlook the entire dance floor, like a king surveying his domain, while those below could not glimpse even a fraction of what was happening inside the private rooms.

He gulped down a mouthful of whiskey, the hot liquid sliding down his throat, but it failed to dispel the unease in his heart.

The swaying bodies on the dance floor, the loud music, and the pervasive atmosphere of desire all seemed rather dull to him at that moment.

The disappearance of Song Heping was like a thorn stuck in his heart.

Just then, the stage lights suddenly changed, a spotlight shone down, and the music became more exotic and the rhythm more captivating.

A new dancer has arrived.

The moment she appeared, she seemed to possess a magnetic force, instantly attracting everyone's attention, including Zayed's on the balcony.

This is a woman unlike the typical voluptuous Indian dancer.

She was tall and strikingly proportioned, with a healthy, tanned complexion and deep, defined features, possessing a wild beauty that blended Middle Eastern mystery with North Indian flair. She wore a golden dancer's costume, bolder and more modern than traditional ones, barely covering her most alluring parts; her flat stomach and long, straight legs shimmered delicately under the lights.

Her dance was also unique; it wasn't entirely graceful, but rather a fusion of the beautiful gestures of traditional Indian dance and the power of modern jazz. Her waist swayed like a water snake, full of elastic power, and every movement was precisely on the beat of the drum, as if stepping on the heart of every man in the audience.

Her gaze wasn't overtly ingratiating; instead, it carried a hint of indifference and aloofness. But this elusive attitude, combined with her stunning figure and alluring dance moves, created a fatal attraction.

Zayed's hand, holding the wine glass, froze in mid-air, all his previous frustration and scheming instantly forgotten.

His gaze was drawn to her like a magnet, fixed on the golden figure, greedily sweeping over every curve of her body and every dynamic movement.

He felt a long-lost, intense heat rising from his lower abdomen, instantly dispelling the slight intoxication brought on by the alcohol.

"Damn, that's a real gem..."

He muttered to himself under his breath, his Adam's apple bobbing involuntarily.

The desire to conquer and possess awakened within him like a wild beast, temporarily overpowering everything else.

As the music ended, the dancers left the stage amidst thunderous applause and whistles.

Zayed immediately turned around and pressed the call button.

Soon, the waiter came over.

"Call your boss over."

Zayed didn't waste any words and got straight to the point.

“Yes, Mr. Zayed.”

The waiter was very tactful and bowed before leaving.

A few minutes later.

The nightclub owner—a slick-haired, smiling middle-aged man—almost jogged in and asked respectfully, "Mr. Zayed, what can I do for you?"

Zayed's gaze still held a trace of heat as he pointed towards the stage, his tone leaving no room for argument: "What's the name of that newcomer, the one in the gold dress who was dancing just now?"

“Oh! You mean Deli? She just arrived a few days ago. She's of Ukrainian and Indian descent, a bit wild, but definitely…”

The boss immediately understood and began to introduce the product with flattery.

"Dali...a good name."

Zayed interrupted him, pulled a thick wad of banknotes from his pocket, and stuffed it into the boss's hand without even looking at it. "Same as always, I'll book a room at 'Crown Pearl.' Make the arrangements and have her come over. Tell her that if she serves you well, she'll get her a good reward."

His tone was calm, yet it carried an unyielding and authoritative force that had developed over a long period of issuing commands.

In his eyes, this was just another simple consumption; if he liked something, he would just buy it.

In Goa, there is no woman that Zayed cannot win over with money and power.

The shopkeeper took the money, his smile widening as he nodded repeatedly, "Understood! Understood! Don't worry, I'll arrange it personally and make sure Miss Daisy arrives at the hotel to see you in the most dignified and efficient way possible!"

Zayed gave a satisfied "hmm," downed the remaining wine in his glass in one gulp, and the last trace of his worries about business and Dongda seemed to be temporarily burned away by the rising desire.

He straightened his collar, his arrogant expression of complete control reappearing on his face, and left the private room with his bodyguards.

He was going to the hotel to enjoy the "prey" he had his eye on that night.

　It’s the end of the month, please vote!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)