Tiny treasure of the chief

Tiny treasure of the chief

Fiona Katherine

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He is Clinton, 32 years old, a notorious gangster. Three years ago, he was betrayed and nearly lost his life, but by some stroke of luck, she saved him. Three years later, he encounters her again in an unexpected situation. The son of her stepmother, Otis, had borrowed money from him and run away. His men were sent to track down Otis, but the man had already fled. In the end, He found her, his tiny treasure.

Chapter 1 The Tiny treasure

"Chief, I couldn't catch that brat, but I saw his little sister."

"Catch what? Where's my money?"

"That guy... ran away, Chief!"

The underlying hesitated, his eyes darting back and forth, blinking rapidly as he nervously examined the man sitting before him. The man's expression was twisted in a grimace, his eyebrows furrowed, sending a wave of fear through the underlying.

As expected, after exhaling a puff of smoke, Clinton scolded him sharply.

"Damn it!

What do you mean by 'ran away'? That's my hundreds of millions, not some trash!"

His fury made everyone nearby jump in surprise. But the most frightening thing was how carelessly the underling had handled the situation.

Sweat poured down his face in torrents. The underling had difficulty swallowing, his throat tightening in fear. Who hadn't heard of Big Brother Clinton's terrifying reputation? Clinton despised useless people, especially those who couldn't even handle small tasks. Every time he lost his temper, at best, someone lost their life, and at worst, half their life. This time, he'd lost the debtor! Who knew where this would lead?

Seeing the underlying hesitation, Clinton frowned and shouted:

"Are you mute?"

The underling was startled, trembling with fear.

"Big Brother, I'm sorry! I... I arrived too late, and the guy had already run away."

"Ran away with my money?" Clinton growled.

The underling nodded frantically, his head bobbing like it might fall off. He continued, speaking hesitantly:

"Both of his parents had already fled. When I arrived, only his sister was there... and the entire house had been sold. There was nothing left, either inside or outside."

"Damn it!" Clinton cursed, his fury reaching a boiling point.

He gritted his teeth, each word hissing through them, his entire face contorted with murderous rage.

There had never been a man who cheated with his money and was able to walk away unscathed.

The other man glanced at him, then cautiously added, his tone laced with excitement and anticipation:

"Chief... but I caught that guy's little sister. She's very pretty..."

Before he could finish, an ashtray flew toward him, nearly hitting him in the face. Luckily, he was quick to dodge, his face turning pale, drained of all color.

Clinton sneered and barked:

"Looking at me, do you think I need that useless thing?"

The man's legs trembled violently, on the verge of collapsing.

"I... I'm sorry, Chief," he stammered.

Just as the atmosphere in the room grew heavier, the door suddenly swung open. The person who entered was none other than Clinton's right-hand man, Finn. Seeing him, the entire group of underlings breathed a collective sigh of relief, their faces regaining some color.

Finn surveyed the room but quickly stepped forward, bowing respectfully:

"Mr. Clinton."

"Deal with it," Clinton snapped. "No matter what it takes, find that brat and drag him back here. I want him to cough up every single cent. Not a penny can be missing."

Finn nodded respectfully.

"Yes, I'll send someone to track him down. But, Mr. Clinton, his house is empty. The only thing of value left is his half-sister. I've seen her-she's not bad-looking."

Clinton's thick black eyebrows twitched as he looked up, his mood souring.

"Why are you telling me this?" he grumbled. "I'm not interested in playing with girls."

"I don't think that kind of woman is your type," Finn replied cautiously. "She's mute, but she's decent-looking. RD is short on people, so we could take her in. That way, we'll have some leverage while we hunt down that brat."

Clinton narrowed his eyes, his body slumping lazily back into the sofa. He fiddled with a lighter in his hand.

Finn added carefully, "That brat's gambling debts aren't just tied to one place. If we don't act quickly, I'm afraid his little sister will fall into the hands of someone even more ruthless."

Clinton's expression remained unchanged. There was no trace of pity in his eyes. He had always operated by principles.

Mercy? Ha, maybe in the next life.

He lit another cigarette, took a long drag, and slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke. Just as he was about to speak, the door swung open again, and a young girl was roughly shoved inside.

I've made some adjustments for clarity, and coherence, and to smooth out the pacing. Let me know if you need further revisions!

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