Chapter 189 Sever Her Thumb

Chapter 189: Chapter 189 Sever Her Thumb

The phone line continued to ring in the quiet room.

​Victor Grant held the heavy black smartphone tightly against his ear, his fingers trembling so much he could barely keep it steady. A thick layer of cold sweat ran down his neck, soaking right into his dress collar.

​He had never once spoken to Wesley Wynn directly in his entire life. He had seen the legendary figure from a distance at high-society events, but he had never possessed the standing to approach him. Wesley was the undisputed leader of the Ravenwood Society, a shadow figure whose influence stretched across the entire business empire of Etland City.

​The ringing suddenly stopped, followed by a soft electronic click.

​"Hello?" a deep, smooth voice spoke through the speaker. It sounded completely calm and polite on the surface, but underneath the quiet tone lay a heavy, chilling authority.

​Victor swallowed with great difficulty, his throat feeling completely dry. "Mr. Wynn... good afternoon. This is Victor Grant speaking. I am the owner of The Elm restaurant."

​There was a brief pause on the other end. "Yes?"

​"I am calling to perform an urgent verification on a black VIP card," Victor explained rapidly. "A guest present in my lobby just showed the card, but the initial biometric fingerprint scan failed to produce a match."

​"What is the name of the guest holding the card?" Wesley asked smoothly.

​Victor stole a quick glance at Veyra’s composed face before answering. "Her name is Mrs. Veyra Solenne."

​An even longer pause followed his words.

​"Veyra?" Wesley’s voice shifted noticeably, the coldness melting away into something distinctly warm and curious. "She is at your establishment right now?"

​"Yes, Mr. Wynn," Victor answered quickly. "She is standing in my main lobby this very moment."

​"Hand the device to her," Wesley commanded.

​Victor opened his mouth to respond, instantly preparing to step forward and offer the phone to Veyra.

​Before he could take a single step, a manicured hand suddenly reached into his space and snatched the phone straight out of his grip.

​Naya Whitmore held the phone to her ear, her voice instantly transforming into a sweet, overly affectionate tone. "Good afternoon, Mr. Wynn! This is Naya Whitmore speaking."

​Silence greeted her over the speaker line.

​"I am afraid I do not know who you are," Wesley stated flatly.

​Naya’s fake smile instantly froze, a rush of dark red flooding her face and neck.

​"I am the primary daughter of Councilor Whitmore," she explained hurriedly, trying to restore her pride. "He is currently leading the political race to become the next president of the nation. I am quite certain you are familiar with his work."

​"I am familiar with your father’s political name," Wesley replied smoothly.

​"Then you naturally know who I am," Naya asserted with confidence.

​"I know who your father is," Wesley’s voice remained completely flat and unbothered. "That piece of information tells me absolutely nothing about who you are as an individual."

​Naya’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, her delicate features twisting with irritation as her voice grew sharp.

​"I am stepping in to handle this because a woman is currently standing in this lobby using a forged black VIP card," Naya claimed loudly, her eyes flashing with spite. "She is actively pretending to be an honored guest of the Ravenwood Society. I felt it was my duty to inform you of this fraud directly."

​Wesley remained silent for a short moment before speaking up.

​"A forged card, you say?"

​"Precisely," Naya confirmed, her tone dripping with fake concern. "The biometric scanner rejected her fingerprint seconds ago. She is an absolute fraud trying to pass off cheap metal."

​"Anyone who dares to forge a Ravenwood Society VIP card will be permanently blacklisted from every single establishment under our domain," Wesley said, his tone turning as cold as ice. "Depending on the severity of the offense, they may even have to pay a very heavy price to settle the insult."

​Naya’s face lit up with pure joy as she listened to his harsh words.

​"Did you hear that?" Naya declared triumphantly, turning her head to glare at Victor. "You heard Mr. Wynn himself! Handle this imposter right now!"

​Victor hesitated on the spot, looking back and forth between Naya’s smug face and Veyra’s calm stance. He looked down at the matte-black metal card resting firmly in Veyra’s hand, his mind racing.

​He recalled the powerful rumors circulating through high society over the past few months. He remembered the quiet chatter about the young woman who had unexpectedly married Dorian Thorne, the most dangerous man in the corporate sector.

​He swallowed hard, stepping closer to the phone’s microphone.

​"Mr. Wynn," Victor murmured in a hushed, nervous tone. "There is an additional detail you ought to be aware of."

​"Speak," Wesley ordered.

​"Mrs. Solenne... she is currently married to Mr. Dorian Thorne."

​The line went entirely dead silent once again.

​Victor waited in place, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird while cold sweat covered his palms.

​When Wesley finally spoke, his voice was dangerously calm. "I am already fully aware of her marriage."

​Victor blinked in total surprise. "You already know?"

​"I do."

​"And you still expect my staff to proceed with—"

​"It makes zero difference whose wife she happens to be," Wesley interrupted coldly, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "Anyone who breaks the core regulations of the Ravenwood Society must be disciplined without exception."

​Victor felt the blood drain entirely from his head, leaving him lightheaded.

​"Mr. Wynn, please consider—"

​"Enforce the protocol immediately," Wesley commanded.

​Victor stared at the smartphone in his shaking hand, his face deathly pale.

​He had just been handed a direct order from the most powerful figure in the city, an order that filled him with absolute dread.

​Yet, disobeying Wesley Wynn was something a small business owner simply could not do if he wanted his business to survive until tomorrow.

​He slowly turned his head to look at Veyra, his voice dropping down to a barely audible whisper.

​"I am deeply sorry, ma’am," he stammered out.

​He turned toward his two large private security guards stationed near the entrance hallway, his voice trembling violently. "Take her into the back security room."

​The heavy guards immediately stepped forward, their heavy boots thudding against the floor.

​Veyra’s eyes widened in sudden surprise. "What are you doing?"

​"Take her into the back room this instant," Victor repeated, his voice cracking under the intense pressure. "And sever her right thumb to settle the fake card violation!"

​A loud, collective gasp erupted from the surrounding patrons across the entire restaurant.

​Naya’s face twisted into a broad, ugly smile of complete triumph, her dark eyes sparkling with delight as she prepared to watch Veyra suffer.

​Before the guards could even raise a hand, Leon moved.

​His right hand reached smoothly under his tailored suit jacket, drawing his service firearm in a single fluid motion. He took two fast steps forward, placing his tall, imposing body directly between Veyra and the advancing guards.

​He raised the weapon, pointing it straight at the head of the lead security guard.

​"Take one more step toward her," Leon said, his voice terrifyingly calm and steady. "And I will put a bullet through your head right here."

​The guards instantly froze in their tracks, their hands flying up into the air as they stared down the barrel of a loaded gun.

​The entire restaurant fell into a state of total, breathless shock.

​Two sides stood motionless in the middle of the crowded lobby, locked in a deadly standoff where a single wrong move could trigger a complete disaster.