"Don’t you think something suspicious is going on? Maybe someone’s using underhanded tactics to manipulate the outcome of the fight?"

As she spoke, Ashley discreetly stole a glance at the masked man seated at her side.

Although she knew he was the uncrowned king of the underground world, he wasn’t quite what she had expected. According to her investigation, he could be ruthless and merciless, but only toward enemies and traitors. Outside of that, he was merely cold, distant, and notoriously intolerant of dirty tricks and deceit.

That was precisely why she had brought up her suspicions.

If there truly was foul play involved in this match, then perhaps informing him would prompt him to take action.

Unfortunately, Ashley seemed to have overestimated the masked man.

Perhaps it was because of the courtesy he had shown them earlier, or because he had allowed them to walk away with 1.6 billion dollars and a title deed worth another billion. Those actions had led her to believe that he was someone who would not tolerate injustice.

Yet even after hearing her suspicions, the masked man didn’t react in the slightest.

Not a flicker crossed his face. Not a single change appeared in his posture.

Ashley couldn’t help but purse her lips in disappointment.

Still, she wasn’t willing to let the matter drop.

Growing up among werewolves, she had witnessed countless fights, battles, and bloody skirmishes. Violence was practically a part of everyday life. However, there was one thing she could never tolerate, and that was children being harmed.

Like many others, she believed that children were the future.

Protecting them was only natural.

Hurting them, exploiting them, or using them as tools, on the other hand, was unforgivable.

With that thought in mind, Ashley turned her attention directly to the masked man. Her eyes locked onto him as she asked without hesitation,

"What do you think, sir?"

The masked man stared at Ashley for several long moments without uttering a single word. His cold, unfathomable eyes seemed capable of seeing through every facade, piercing straight into the deepest corners of a person’s soul and exposing even the darkest secrets hidden within their heart.

For a brief instant, Ashley felt her own heart tremble under that overwhelming gaze, but she refused to look away. She met his eyes head-on, unwilling to show even the slightest sign of weakness.

Only after what felt like an eternity did the masked man finally speak.

"Then, Miss Gildenvale," he said, his voice low and indifferent, "what do you suggest?"

A cold smile curved Ashley’s lips.

"Since the fight we just witnessed was rather lackluster, how about we have someone challenge the champion to another match?" she suggested calmly. "That way, everyone can be certain the previous fight wasn’t rigged."

Her tone was composed and her reasoning sounded perfectly reasonable, but anyone with half a brain could see where she was going with it. She wasn’t proposing another challenger; she was volunteering herself.

The realization was followed by a wave of laughter from several VIP guests who had been listening in on the conversation. Their amused gazes swept over Ashley’s slender figure. While undeniably beautiful and well-proportioned, her delicate arms, narrow waist, and graceful appearance hardly inspired confidence in a place where victories were decided through blood and brute force.

To them, she looked more suited for a gala than an underground arena. They simply couldn’t imagine her possessing enough strength to threaten, let alone injure, the reigning champion.

"Miss Gildenvale, you jest."

The masked man spoke in an even tone. Yet despite his words, there was not the slightest trace of amusement in his eyes. His gaze remained as cold and unreadable as ever, fixed firmly on Ashley as though trying to discern her true intentions.

"Not jesting..." Ashley replied, her gaze fixed on the arena below.

By then, the staff had already stepped forward and officially declared Drake’s defeat. At the center of the ring, the referee stood beside the reigning champion and raised his hand high into the air, signaling his victory to the crowd.

A portion of the spectators erupted into cheers, celebrating their winnings after placing their bets on the champion. Others, however, could only curse under their breath as the money they had wagered on Drake vanished down the drain.

Yet despite the outcome, the arena wasn’t nearly as loud as it had been earlier. The atmosphere felt strangely subdued. Many spectators wore bitter expressions, while others remained silent, their eyes lingering on the defeated Drake as if unwilling to accept the result.

"Baby..." Gideon called out in a hoarse voice, his grip on Ashley’s thigh and waist tightening instinctively.

"We won’t be able to take responsibility if Miss Gildenvale gets injured in the arena," the masked man said calmly, his gaze briefly flickering toward Gideon. "Why not let your man fight on your behalf instead?"

"I’ll do it."

Gideon’s response came without the slightest hesitation. He immediately moved to set Ashley down on the vacant chair beside him, preparing to rise to his feet. The intensity in his eyes left no room for doubt; he was more than willing to step into the arena in her place.

"No, I want to do it..." Ashley said firmly, tightening her grip around Gideon’s hand to stop him from standing.

Her eyes remained locked on the masked man, unwavering and fearless.

More than anyone, she wanted to be the one to fight that monster.

The champion’s arrogance, his dirty tricks, and the way he treated human lives as if they were worthless disgusted her to no end. If she stepped into the arena, she was certain he would underestimate her. He would look down on her for being a woman, lower his guard, and perhaps even toy with her for his own amusement.

And that was exactly what she wanted.

The moment he became careless, she would beat him to her heart’s content and force him to expose his tricks in front of everyone. In her eyes, people like him were a menace to society, individuals who hid behind strength and intimidation while trampling over others without remorse.

More importantly, the man reminded her far too much of Maddison.

The comparison only fueled the anger burning inside her chest. It was a raging fire that demanded an outlet, and at this moment, nothing mattered more than venting that fury. She wanted to wipe that smug expression off his face with her own hands, no matter the consequences.

"Hmm." The masked man tilted his head slightly, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "I didn’t realize Miss Gildenvale had such a fiery temper."

He leaned back in his seat, his fingers tapping lazily against the armrest before a slow smile curved his lips.

"Very well. How about we raise the stakes with another wager?"

"Alright," Ashley replied without hesitation.

"Good." The masked man’s smile deepened. "Then if you win, I’ll grant you any wish you desire."

He paused deliberately, letting the silence stretch as the atmosphere around him gradually turned cold and oppressive.

"But if you lose..." His expression hardened, and a dangerous glint flashed across his eyes. "You’ll belong to me until the day you die."