The Return of the Cannon Fodder Trillion Heiress - Chapter 998

Chapter 998: Chapter 998 Confrontation 2

Amy tried to speak, but one of the guards dragging her clamped a hand over her mouth, silencing her. Instantly, she realized these men weren’t from the Avery’s security detail.

Every Avery guard came through Cindy or Gerald’s strict selection, and they are all hardened military veterans who would never mistake loyalties, much less obey Silvia over the true heiress.

That could only mean one thing: these bodyguards were outsiders, mercenaries Silvia had personally hired. No wonder they dared to manhandle her so roughly. The thought made Amy’s eyes burn red with fury.

As soon as they reached the seventh floor, the security detail Cindy had stationed there immediately noticed the intruders. The sight of Silvia’s familiar face, someone they had already thrown out once, along with the crowd of bodyguards at her back, made the situation clear.

Silvia was here to force her way in. But Cindy’s men weren’t the type to be intimidated, nor were they the kind to play nice.

The scattered security detail, stationed at different points on the floor, immediately rose to their feet, eyes locking on the intruders like guard dogs roused from their posts. Without a word, they let their bloodlust seep into the air, a suffocating pressure that rolled across the corridor.

Silvia’s bodyguards stiffened under the weight of it, their skin crawling as a shiver shot down their spines. That aura was unmistakable; these weren’t ordinary men. Only those who had taken countless lives could release such a chilling, heavy bloodlust.

Silvia’s bodyguards felt their breaths hitch, and an instinctive urge to step back crawling up their spines. But Silvia, blinded by her own fury, failed to notice the silent standoff.

“What are you waiting for?! Move!” she barked, striding forward with arrogant confidence.

“You are not authorized to be here. Please return.” The head of Hera’s security detail stepped into the center of the corridor, his voice firm and commanding.

He stood tall, radiating an aura of calm authority so sharp it was suffocating. The intimidation was so heavy that the young onlookers trailing Silvia instinctively shrank back, shoulders hunching and necks drawing in like turtles retreating into their shells.

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Silvia snapped, dripping with contempt. “You’re just a dog following orders. Tell me how much you’re paid, and I’ll double it.”

She didn’t care about appearances anymore; anger had stripped away her caution. In her mind, she could buy loyalty; after all, she was from the Avery family and felt untouchable. If she offered enough, these guards would fawn over her, especially once they learned she was supposedly Leo’s fiancée.

The captain of Hera’s security detail caught the condescending bite in Silvia’s words, and it lit his temper. Standing nearly 1.9 meters tall and built like a tank, he was a man forged in the battlefield, not someone who would bow to the tantrums of a pampered princess.

His neck tensed, veins bulging, the sure sign he was pissed. A sneer tugged at his lips, his smirk radiating with disdain.

“Miss, say whatever you like, but I’m not letting you past me. And as for doubling our pay—” his eyes narrowed, voice dripping with irony, “I doubt you have enough money for that.”

Every word carried weight, sharp with layered meaning.

As men who had followed Hera like her own shadow, they were far more informed than Amy, who mostly remained in the penthouse. They already knew of the confrontation between Hera and Silvia when Silvia first appeared, and more than anyone, they understood the truth, Hera’s rightful identity and Silvia’s fabricated one.

Their loyalty was clear; they knew exactly who their true master was, and they would never mistake it. After all, they were the very ones who threw Silvia out during her first attempt to visit Leo.

To them, she was nothing but a cuckoo trying to lay eggs in another’s nest, someone undeserving of even the slightest respect.

“How dare you! I am Silvia Avery, the heiress of the Avery Family! If I don’t have the means to pay you, then who does?!” Silvia nearly roared, her voice echoing down the corridor.

The young ones livestreaming the confrontation immediately swung their cameras toward her, eyes widening as if they’d just struck gold. What started as a simple attempt to capture some drama for their followers had suddenly turned into breaking news.

They hadn’t expected that the woman they’d randomly trailed was actually claiming to be the heiress of the powerful Avery Conglomerate. To them, this was a windfall, content that would surely explode across the internet.

Sure enough, the moment Silvia spoke, the young livestreamers’ viewers exploded. Clips were being shared across platforms, tweets, reposts, short clips, so fast the stream’s viewer count rocketed from a few hundred to three thousand, then five thousand, and it still kept climbing.

The kids behind the phones cheered; this was the viral moment they’d hoped for, so they trained every camera on Silvia.

“You think I don’t have the money?” Silvia scoffed, forcing a laugh that came out thin. “How much do you think you make? Want me to give you a million just to let me pass?”

Her words were loud, but underneath the bravado, her voice trembled. Money talk should have been easy, but in truth, she’d emptied her savings and even sold off her luxury cars to just pay Hera for her stupid cup; the thought of it made her chest ache.

Rage burned hotter than pride. If she didn’t humiliate Hera now, if she didn’t make her pay, she felt she might actually die of anger.

The captain of Hera’s security detail didn’t flinch at Silvia’s bluster. He already suspected the truth, and, knowing Hera still wanted to hide her identity, couldn’t openly expose Silvia as an impostor.

Instead, he gave Silvia a single, disgusted look, the kind that hinted he knew far more than he let on. The expression made Silvia freeze for a heartbeat.

When she recovered, fury flared. She stepped forward as if to slap him, but the sight of the captain stopped her. He was a hulking figure, tall, broad, and battle-hardened, and the idea of striking him felt suddenly absurd.

Better to take a step back, she thought, even while her face remained a fixed mask of scorn.

“Move! I don’t have time for this!” Silvia snapped, glaring at her entourage. “What are you waiting for? If they won’t move, make them!” She stamped her high heel onto the floor like a pistol shot, fury blazing across her face.

“Understood, Miss.” The bodyguards answered, but beneath their obedience, there was reluctance. But still, the contract money Silvia paid them won out in the end; they straightened their backs, flexed their muscles, and advanced forward.

They were big men, well-built from lifting weights and drinking protein shakes, but size wasn’t everything.

What they didn’t realize was that the captain’s strength came from years of real service, not gym reps. He’d earned his frame carrying heavy packs and assault rifles across Afghan terrain, hauling crates of ammunition and gear for miles.

His muscles weren’t merely bulging; they were functional: flexible, conditioned, and far more dangerous than the hired strongmen’s bulk.

The hired men looked big, but hollow. Their bulk was all show; the captain of Hera’s security detail was different. He could kill with a single punch.

He didn’t flinch at Silvia’s bodyguards, and his team behind him stayed perfectly still, refusing to be baited. Silvia and her bodyguards misread their calm for fear and grew cocky; Silvia’s smirk widened.

‘If they’re serving that woman, don’t blame me for showing no mercy,’ she thought, folding her arms. ‘I’ll have my guards cripple them and leave them at death’s door, teach them not to cross me.’

“Back off and let us in. We don’t need this to get ugly; we’re all professionals here. You may be from a different company, but we’re basically comrades. Don’t push us.” The lead of Silvia’s bodyguards said, trying to defuse the standoff with a thin smile.

“Hmp. Do I need anyone to go easy on me?” the captain of Hera’s security detail scoffed. He wasn’t being arrogant for arrogance’s sake; he simply recognized greenhorn bravado when he saw it.

These men had the look of gym-trained muscle, not battle-hardened killers; they carried no real weight of consequence. To him, they were loud talkers pretending to fly without wings, and if they wanted to learn to fly, he’d be happy to teach them by kicking their asses.

“Captain, they’re looking down on you. Will you still have the face to meet us if you don’t teach them a lesson?” one of Hera’s guards taunted, half-smirking as if enjoying the spectacle.

None of them took Silvia’s hired bodyguards with hollow muscles seriously; to them, this was nothing more than a diversion.

Standing guard all day was monotonous, and chances to stretch their muscles didn’t come often. If some ignorant fools wanted to knock on their door and make trouble, all the better.

After all, these men had lived through battlefields soaked in blood.

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