The Almighty Dominance novel Chapter 334

"That damned woman!" General Marcus roared, his face flushed with rage.

Launching fifty missiles wasn't cheap—each missile cost about three million dollars.

Vancouver had just burned through a hundred and fifty million dollars like it was pocket change.

But the worst part was Chicago's defense system. It automatically intercepted every incoming missile, and each defense missile cost five million.

Chicago had already bled two hundred and fifty million dollars just to protect itself.

War burned money faster than gasoline.

Marcus watched as the enemy missiles exploded harmlessly in mid-air, filling the sky with brilliant, costly fireballs.

"Get the governor of Vancouver on the line!" Marcus barked.

Within moments, the call connected.

"Listen here, you arrogant piece of trash," Marcus seethed. "Are you declaring war on Chicago? How dare you launch missiles at us!"

Jasmine’s voice came through icy and unyielding.

"How dare you kidnap Alex? You release him right now, or I'll send another fifty missiles."

"Are you insane?" Marcus shouted in disbelief. "You spent a hundred and fifty million dollars just for one man?"

"That man means everything to me!"

"You're completely out of your mind!" Marcus roared, unable to fathom her logic.

"No," Jasmine shot back sharply. "You're the lunatic holding Alex hostage.”

“Those missiles I sent are nothing compared to what’s next—they’re already targeted at your home, your parents' place, your second and third wives, even that little mistress you hide away."

Marcus felt his blood run cold. "You're targeting civilians?"

"So what if I am?" Jasmine snarled. "You have exactly five minutes to release Alex, or you'll regret it forever." The line went dead.

Before Marcus could recover, another phone rang urgently.

"Mr. Hernandez," Marcus answered tensely.

Lucas Hernandez's voice was chillingly calm. "Listen carefully. Vancouver attacked first—show no weakness. Load your missiles with nuclear warheads and fire back immediately."

Marcus hesitated, stunned. "Sir, are you sure?"

"I've never been surer. Do it."

"Sir, if we nuke Vancouver, there'll be nothing left but ash," Marcus protested.

"Seems you've lost your nerve, Marcus," Hernandez snapped. "This is self-defense. Vancouver struck first. I expect their city in flames within the hour."

Before Marcus could respond, alarms shrieked again.

"What now?" Marcus demanded.

"General," a soldier reported urgently, "Los Angeles tried contacting you, but couldn’t get through. They've just launched twenty missiles at us."

"Damn it!" Marcus felt a throbbing pain surge through his skull.

"General Marcus," Hernandez shouted through the phone, "Send the nukes now!"

"General Marcus, have you forgotten who you work for? We—the five Lords of Chicago—have already committed ourselves to war with Vancouver, Los Angeles, and even Vermont. Your only job is to eliminate that man."

Marcus shook his head fiercely. "I won’t drag my soldiers into a war! The public will never accept it. We can't plunge the city into civil chaos over one damned man!"

"I don’t care what it takes," another Lord barked, eyes narrowing into slits. "I want Alex dead. No exceptions."

"General, prepare your men for war," Tom Jones concluded coldly. "You wear the uniform; now act like it. Protect this city or face the consequences."

The call ended abruptly, leaving Marcus staring blankly at the darkened screen. Sweat trickled down his forehead.

The Lords had unanimously condemned them all to battle.

Suddenly, urgent knocks rattled his office door.

"What is it?" Marcus snapped, irritation flaring.

"Sir, you've got to see this!" a soldier shouted from outside.

Marcus rushed to the window, threw it open, and felt dread coil tightly in his chest.

Mercenaries swarmed toward his military compound, a ruthless wave marching under the harsh glow of streetlights.

"What the hell are they doing here?" Marcus demanded, breath quickening.

"Someone paid them off," the soldier replied, voice tense with fear. "They'll tear us apart if we don't hand Alex over."

"Again?" Marcus whispered, his head throbbing with sudden, agonizing pain.

He gripped the window frame, knuckles white, staring down at the merciless mob below, realizing that peace was slipping irrevocably through his fingers.