Chapter 807 No Way Out—We Fight to the End!

• Peng Hua lounged at the head seat, grinning. When he heard the name Dumiya, he frowned at first, then burst into a smile. “Relax. Dumiya will definitely show up.” He sounded rock-solid sure. Back then, he’d tried shorting several of the Du family’s listed companies, but Dumiya suddenly showed up and wrecked his plan. Not only did he lose a ton of cash for nothing, he basically handed Dumiya a wedding dress—those Du companies shot up several times in market value. He’d been grinding his teeth at Dumiya ever since. If Michael Shephard hadn’t been around back then, he wouldn’t have let it go. Dumiya would’ve tasted his wrath long ago. Too bad—he’d had to swallow that rage and hold it in. Now, he finally had a place to let it out. Michael Shephard was dead. Dumiya had no one to back her up. Thinking of that, Peng Hua smirked. “Don’t worry. Whether Dumiya comes or not, it doesn’t matter. Even if she doesn’t show, the ending’s the same.” The other tycoons and family heads all nodded. Any family or business that wants to get a foothold at the port needs backup. And the Dus now? No backup. The original Du family members had been driven out—they weren’t Dus anymore. Their network, gone. And the only backing Dumiya had—Mr. Shephard—was dead. With no support, and holding that much in assets, there’s simply no way to survive at the port. They’d invited Dumiya tonight just to force her to hand over those industries herself. Of course, like Peng Hua said, best if she came. If not, no problem. They’d divvy up Du family assets among themselves, then move directly on Dumiya. With that thought, they relaxed, drinking and chatting, giddy with themselves. Before long, a woman in sunglasses sashayed in. She had a lush figure, and everyone recognized her at a glance—she was the famous model, Dumiya. “Dumiya’s here…” someone murmured. All eyes locked onto her. “This chick is shameless. Nighttime and she’s still wearing shades.” “Heh. Once we carve up her assets, we might just get a taste of that international mixed-blood model.” “But let’s lay it out first—no one gets to hog her.” “Hahaha, deal, deal…” Some hot-blooded tycoons and family heads were already running their mouths, loud enough for the walls to hear, not giving a damn how Dumiya felt. In their eyes, Dumiya was fish on the chopping block, waiting for them to slice her up. Of course she heard them. But she moved forward as if she hadn’t heard a thing. This party had notified her to come, sure—but they hadn’t saved her a seat. Dumiya didn’t care. After a slow loop through the crowd, she stopped in the center. Then, she eased off her sunglasses. Gasps rippled through the room. Now they understood why she’d worn them. Her eyes were red and puffy, swollen from days of crying. Still, there was no sympathy in the room. If anything, they felt relieved. If Dumiya was this heartbroken, then Michael Shephard must really have died on Fulong Mountain. “I know why you called me here tonight. I know exactly what you’re trying to pull.” Dumiya swept a cold gaze over them. “Here’s the deal: no way in hell.” “I’ve been driven to the edge. If any of you dares touch Mr. Shephard’s industries, I’ll fight you to the bitter end. We go down together.” Her words hit like a hammer. Everyone in the room felt a chill run down their spines.