Chapter 7: Uriah, tell them to let Alvin Yale go!

Alvin Yale practically barked the words on reflex. Adeline Scurr didn't respond. Off to the side, Amara Lyson, who had been listening with her ears pricked for any commotion over there, clinked glasses with Uriah. Amara smiled. "Alvin Yale's pretty domineering, huh? He's dying to show off in front of Adeline Scurr. Only… he's a bit too stupid for his own good. He probably doesn't even realize who he picked a fight with. Adeline Scurr was protected too well by you, Uriah." She leaned in, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. "Uriah, do you know who the real boss behind Nightless Bar is?" "No. And I don't care," Uriah replied. "Tonight, I'm only drinking." "Then I'll drink with you, Uriah. We don't stop until we're both wasted." Amara deliberately scooted closer. A soft perfume drifted off her skin and rode the breeze toward him. It wasn't long before Alvin was still coaxing Adeline to drink when a wave of killing intent rolled in. Yellow hair man trailed behind a sturdy man in a crisp suit. He jabbed a finger at Adeline and Alvin. "Boss, it's them! Getting slapped is whatever, but my face is your face. They humiliated you!" "Third Laureate Looske! Who the hell offended him?" Someone's shout cut through the music. In an instant, half the eyes in Nightless Bar turned toward Adeline and Alvin. Everyone in the Underworld knew what the name Third Laureate Looske weighed. Back then, Third Laureate Looske had placed third in the Riverine Province college entrance exam. That was how he'd gotten the nickname "Third Laureate." But he was the textbook definition of a suit-wearing brute, someone who had carved out territory in Riverhold's crowded Underworld with sheer, suicidal ruthlessness. Behind him stood more than a dozen cold-faced enforcers, their presence sharp with violence. It was the kind of air that made you believe their hands had been stained before. Under that crushing pressure, sweat beaded across Alvin's forehead. He swallowed again and again. He had never seen a scene like this, and his legs went soft. Forcing a smile, Alvin stuck out his hand. "I'm Alvin Yale from Yale Group. Adler Yale is my father." Alvin wasn't stupid. If he didn't throw his background on the table, this wouldn't end cleanly. He couldn't afford to lose face in front of Adeline. Third Laureate Looske tugged at his tie. He didn't take the offered hand. "So the young master of Yale Group has arrived. My apologies for not welcoming you properly." Alvin exhaled, relief loosening his chest. At least the man had manners. "However…" Third Laureate Looske continued evenly, "You hit my guy. How do we settle that? If word gets out, where does that leave my face?" Alvin frowned, his voice turning hard. "Fine. I'll pay a hundred thousand. Call it medical expenses for that slap. How about it?" "A hundred thousand?" Third Laureate Looske's smile carried pure contempt. "You think my face is worth a hundred thousand? So from now on, anyone can bully my people, toss a hundred thousand at me, and call it even? Then who's going to respect me in my own place?" The moment he finished, a chill swept the room. Alvin jolted and took a step back. "Then… then how much do you want?" Regret churned in his gut. Why had he insisted on playing the hero? He might have been from the Yale family, but Yale Group wasn't what it used to be, and he wasn't exactly favored at home. He'd returned for one reason: marry Adeline Scurr, seize the Scurr family's assets, and use that to build status in the family. Before that happened, he couldn't drag trouble back to his name. "Young Master Yale," Third Laureate Looske said, amused, "do you really think this is about money?" His tone turned languid, almost lecturing. "First of all, a fair lady is worth pursuing. My guy only asked this young lady for her contact info. In a nightlife bar, that's normal. If you didn't want to, you could've just said no. He's a little hotheaded, sure, but he wouldn't cling like a leech, and he wouldn't force anyone." Then his voice dropped, sharp as a blade. "And what did you do? You slapped my guy without even asking what happened. That's you smashing my place." "It was a misunderstanding. I didn't mean it…" Alvin's bravado collapsed. "I apologize!" "Whatever you meant, it happened." Third Laureate Looske's eyes were flat. "And you're going to give me an explanation. An apology doesn't erase this." He spoke slowly, each word crisp, each one a threat. "Here's what we'll do. I won't make it hard for you. Kneel. Kowtow three times to my guy. Crawl through his legs. Let him slap you three times. And then let this young lady spend the night with my guy. After that, we're even." "How's that?" The weight of it hit Alvin like a mountain. His whole body shook. He lowered his voice, pleading. "Boss… I was wrong. Can you let it go? Please, don't stoop to my level." He flicked a desperate glance at Adeline and hurried on. "Boss, even if you won't give me face, my girlfriend is the CEO of Glory Media. You've heard of it, right? There's no need to blow this up…" Smack! Third Laureate Looske's slap cracked across Alvin's face. The force nearly sent him stumbling sideways. "Young Mr. Yale," Third Laureate Looske said coldly, "you're too damn noisy. If you don't want to keep it decent, I'll help you be decent. Someone hold him down. Make him kowtow." Two men with trained hands seized Alvin's arms and forced him to his knees. No matter how Alvin struggled, it was useless. "Wait!" Adeline couldn't watch anymore. "Boss Looske, Alvin Yale was wrong, but he's already paid for it. Can we end it here?" As she spoke, she offered him a business card. "Maybe we'll have a chance to work together in the future." Third Laureate Looske glanced at it and tossed it aside. "So you're President Scurr. I heard Glory Media signed quite a few celebrities. When are you bringing them to my bar to have some fun? Help me boost the atmosphere a little." Then his expression hardened. "But today? There's nothing to discuss. I'm the boss. How could I not stand up for my guy? I hope you understand, President Scurr." Adeline's pretty face cooled. She hadn't expected him to give her zero face. Instinctively, she wanted to call for Uriah. In the past, when she ran into situations like this, Uriah always stepped in. It always ended with the other side apologizing and making amends. But that night… Uriah wasn't by her side. "Boss Looske," Adeline said, voice tight, "are you forcing me to call the police?" "Police?" Third Laureate Looske threw his head back and laughed. "Putting aside my relationship with the Law Enforcement Team, let's talk right and wrong. Your friend threw the first punch. At most, we're acting in self-defense." Adeline bit her lower lip, unsure what to do. "I know Grant Casson, Elder Casson," she said, reaching for the strongest name she could. "Could you let my friend go, for Elder Casson's sake?" At the name, Third Laureate Looske visibly paused. He studied her, eyes narrowing with curiosity. "How do you know Elder Casson?" "A friend introduced us," Adeline said. That "friend" was Uriah. When Uriah had first introduced Elder Casson to her, she'd dismissed it. Only later did she learn what Elder Casson's influence in Riverhold's Underworld truly meant. If anyone could smooth this over, Elder Casson was the only person she could think of. Third Laureate Looske fell silent for a moment, then smiled. "Since President Scurr knows Elder Casson, you can leave." Adeline let out a breath and reached to help Alvin up from the floor, but Third Laureate Looske stopped her. "President Scurr, I'm only allowing you to go. Young Mr. Yale? He's not going anywhere." His tone left no room for argument. "Adeline, save me!" Alvin panicked. He didn't want to be left in their hands. "Boss Looske, can't you bend a little?" Adeline pressed. "Sorry." Third Laureate Looske's voice was iron. "People like us live on one thing: face. If Young Mr. Yale doesn't pay a price tonight, what will outsiders think of Third Laureate Looske? How will Nightless Bar keep its footing in Riverhold?" "So, President Scurr, I hope you understand." Adeline's expression shifted. "Boss Looske…" She tried to speak again, but at some point a dagger had appeared in his hand. He waved it lazily in front of her, a casual flash of steel. "President Scurr, you're high society. I don't want to offend you more than I have to," he said. "But the Underworld has its rules." "What are you going to do to him?" she demanded. "That isn't for you to worry about." "Adeline, save me! You can't just leave me here…" Alvin wailed. He knew what these Underworld bosses did. In their hands, you could lose an arm, a leg, or even your chance to see tomorrow. They didn't care about consequences. Adeline's face tightened. She pulled out her phone, thinking hard, but no name came to mind that could settle this cleanly. If something happened to her, she could call Elder Casson or other big shots. But this was Alvin's mess, and he was the one who started it… More than that, most of her connections had come through Uriah. After a long hesitation, Adeline turned and walked straight toward Uriah. "Adeline," Amara purred, her body pressed against him as she smiled, "what's wrong? I'm reminiscing with Uriah." Adeline's face stayed stony as she took in the intimate way Amara clung to him. The discomfort in her chest swelled until it burned. "Uriah!" Adeline snapped, her voice almost a command. "Go tell Third Laureate Looske to let Alvin Yale go!"