008 | Chapter 8 - A World of Black and White

—That's how dirty my world is.

/

In the study, messy documents and a laptop lay on the carpet. The laptop screen flickered under the light, and he could clearly see that line—the message from the hotel bill.

It was like a serpent named "Mary" who had invaded Eden, ready to covet his apple.

In his world, purity did not exist.

Diaz Vinson was a rogue and a local troublemaker from a young age. He grew up in the most chaotic streets of the East Coast at the time, a place of violence and poverty. He was the child of a prostitute and her client and never received any formal education, let alone the luxurious life of having enough to eat.

His mother showed him no pity; instead, she only wanted to get rid of him so she could take more customers and earn more money. He never even considered who his father was; he only knew that if he wanted something, he would steal it.

However, this level is no better than those useless gatekeepers.

If you've been busy all day and haven't even gotten a car, what's the point of all that busywork?

He envied those upper-class people who wore gold and silver, even though they all pretended and acted hypocritically in front of others and behind their backs. It still made him understand what "means" meant and what it meant for wealth to make people do whatever they wanted.

When Diaz was sixteen, he was spotted by a gang leader who believed he had enough courage and ambition to recruit him into the gang. For the first few years, Diaz lived up to expectations, using ruthless and violent methods. There was never a debt he couldn't collect, and those who refused were long gone, their bodies frozen in the wind along the east coast.

"Is this what gangs are all about?" Diaz asked, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His youthful face was already stained with blood, but he didn't care about his scraped knuckles. His brown eyes were unwavering and devoid of light, as calm as still water.

"Great, I'll give it a try too."

—Just this one sentence.

At the time, many cadres and his contemporaries laughed at him for overestimating his abilities. But the following year, he personally killed his boss, seized the weapons of his sworn brother, and confiscated goods from other local forces. He committed every imaginable atrocity, from drugs to human trafficking. Seemingly tireless, he greedily plundered everything he wanted, and anyone who stood in his way was doomed.

Diaz Vincent's name spread throughout the entire East Coast.

The wise will enthrone him as king, knowing that this man's ruthlessness and cruelty are not mere bluster, while the foolish... will never have another chance to say a word.

Not only on the East Coast, but also in the North City, Zhongjie, Nanhai and Xiqiao, everyone began to have a "cooperative" relationship with him, a relationship of mutual respect and non-interference, which established his title as the "Godfather".

This resounding reputation has even spread overseas—

That year, Diaz was thirty-two years old, and his gangster empire had stabilized.

Over a decade, he laid a solid foundation, punished those who attempted to betray him, and solidified his reputation as the "Godfather of the East Coast." But he didn't intend to stop there; instead, he began to personally scout for "goods," which led him to the other side of Europe, where he became entangled in a crazy and tragic love affair.

Diaz arrived at a remote rural area, where a castle-like building stood on a lush green plain. This was the place where he was to discuss "business"—the other party was rumored to be a crazy arms smuggler with an unpredictable personality, and anyone who could make a deal with him would never suffer a loss.

"Heh, I'll see what kind of guy he is." He had a cigar in his mouth, wore a dark striped suit, and his slicked-back hair was neatly combed and shiny. The tight fabric accentuated his muscular physique, making him look even more wild and alluring.

At that moment, a beautiful figure on the castle saw the man in front of her, and her eyes lit up as if she had been hit by a nuclear bomb.

Just as his men were seated, the crisp sound of high heels hitting the marble floor came from afar.

"Da, da, da..."

A woman with a good figure, shoulder-length brown curly hair, deep and thick eyebrows, and full, bright red lips appeared from behind the door. She confidently swayed her hips as she walked into the conference room and walked towards Diaz without saying a word.

"What...what benefits can you give me?" She sat on the table, crossed her long, fair legs, leaned down slightly to look at Diaz, and asked in an ambiguous voice.

In those eyes, there was not the weakness and indecisiveness of an ordinary woman, but a desire and aggression sharper than any man's.

Diaz was no third-rate character, of course. Faced with the woman's aura, he was not only unaffected, but also felt a little excited by her provocation—it was this kind of bitch who was worth conquering.

"I didn't see anything, what benefits are we talking about?" He sneered, waving his cigar provocatively up and down, his eyes sweeping over her entire body without any politeness. "With your slutty look? There are plenty of sluts out there."

Upon hearing this, the young woman, in the prime of her life, was clearly displeased. Her lips twitched slightly, and she jumped off the table. Without saying a word, she pulled a pistol from her tight skirt and pointed it directly at Diaz.

This action instantly put both sides into a state of combat readiness, with the sounds of guns firing rising and falling, and the atmosphere instantly becoming heated.

"I'm Mary Silver, you think I'll sell you weapons just because you're spouting this crap?" She cocked the safety, her eyes flashing with madness as she looked at Diaz, her breathing noticeably faster. "Want something? Kneel down and lick my boots!"

But he simply stood up, utterly disdainful. Without even taking his gun, he went straight to Mary, grabbed her gun, pressed it against his heart, and said in a low voice, "Rotten dick? I can do without weapons, but I absolutely cannot accept someone calling my dick rotten."

Upon hearing this, Mary's tense expression suddenly froze, then she burst into hearty laughter: "Hahahaha—"

Then, holding the pistol, she slowly moved it down from his hand, pressing her full, soft breasts against his firm chest, gently rubbing against him while whispering suggestively, "Whether it's rotten or not... I decide."

She gently rubbed her gun-hand against his crotch, inhaling Diaz's scent with her nose, and looked at him provocatively: "Look at this... it could trade for a few tanks, huh?"

He lowered his head and gave a cold smile.

In that conference room, before the tension had even dissipated, ambiguous moans and suggestive sounds of collisions began to emanate.

"Ah...ahhh...fuck, so good...!" Mary's clothes were disheveled as she lay on the conference table, her legs bent in an M-shape, her huge breasts swaying under the light. Diaz's large hands gripped her waist tightly as he forcefully thrust into her core.

"Ah... um...! How many tanks do you want... um?" She bit Diaz's finger, sucking and swirling it with her tongue, moaning provocatively. Five? No... ten?

"Oh...! Damn... right there... I'm going to climax... hurry..."

Diaz lifted Mary up by the waist, letting her hang on his waist, and began to thrust upwards forcefully, without blushing or panting, as if he were just performing some kind of routine exercise.

"Want an orgasm, huh?" he whispered, slowing down. "Then add another five hundred rocket launchers."

"Ah... um—how mean, trying to bargain with me like this?" Mary gripped Diaz's neck and started twisting her waist, making a slapping sound.

He pressed the object deeper, his large penis reaching the cervix, preventing Mary from experiencing further pleasure. This caused Mary to nearly roll her eyes and let out a pleasurable scream.

"If you can't add it, then let's stop here." Diaz deliberately pretended to pull it out, looking down at her.

The pre-orgasmic itching and unbearable sensation was too much for Mary to resist. She kept twisting her waist and swaying her hips, wanting more pleasure, so she started to whine and say coquettishly, "Okay... five hundred it is..."

"I'll give you everything you want from now on, okay?" She grabbed Diaz's hair at the back of his head, forcing him to lower his head, and kissed him hard with her red lips, penetrating deep into his mouth.

"Please...make me climax, and I'll give you anything new...after that!" Mary's eyes were hazy, her breathing rapid, and her coquettish voice was completely different from her crazy appearance just now.

Diaz grinned maliciously, grabbed Mary's buttocks with both hands, and roughly responded to her kiss. Then, like a pile driver, he forcefully pounded into her body, not stopping even when she reached orgasm, as if he wanted to kill her with the intensity of orgasm.

"Ah! Haaaaaah! No! I'm going to die! Haaaaah—"

"Oh! Oh! I'm about to climax again...! Fuck you... It feels so good, so good, so good! Ahhh!"

Mary's moans continued from the afternoon of that day until the next morning. Even her men were unsure whether they should knock on the door to disturb her, but seeing Diaz's men's calm demeanor, they silently continued to keep watch.

In those three days, Diaz acquired fifteen tanks, five hundred rocket launchers, twenty thousand modified guns, fifteen hundred hand grenades, and ten military-grade night vision goggles.

For him, this was just a means of making a deal.

But I never imagined... that I would sow the seeds of a tragic fate for myself.

From then on, whenever Mary had free time or missed Diaz, she would deliberately use "sexual favors" to ask Diaz to satisfy her desires.

Of course, none of this will be a losing proposition.

She believed that this man would look at her one day, and that Mary had nothing she wanted but couldn't have.

Until that woman appeared...

Xiaoyue.

This woman was not only a thorn in her side, but also a part of Diaz's world, built on iron and filth...

The only purity that needs to be protected.

At this very moment, Diaz was in his study, thinking about that damned past—what would that bitch want from him? Most importantly, she couldn't harm his woman or his child!

That damned Xiaoyue was completely unaware and wanted to touch those filthy things?

He won't allow it!

"I've protected you like this, keeping you from any harm, and what are you doing sneaking around like this?" His voice carried a hint of reproach and seriousness, a voice that Xiaoyue rarely heard.

His caresses never stopped; every rubbing, licking, and biting was a punishment for her most sensitive weaknesses.

"You little bitch... I originally wanted to wait until you were feeling better before telling you." Diaz looked at Xiaoyue, who was panting and trembling beneath him with her clothes torn, his eyes filled with an uncontrollable, bestial rage.

"But it's time for you to know... it's time for adults' 'play'."

"Because I... I just couldn't hold back if I didn't teach you a lesson..." He leaned down and sucked and bit Xiaoyue's neck hard, leaving a deep red mark.

Upon hearing his words, especially the crucial word "game," Xiaoyue felt a sense of foreboding, recalling the "adult playroom" she had stayed in during her postpartum confinement...

"Wait... what are you saying? Diaz!" Before she could react, she was hoisted onto his shoulder, her suit jacket covering the torn area. Then, he roughly flung open the study door and strode into the hallway—