Captivated by the Ruler of the Underworld
Chapter109 An Invitation

Big White, do you recognize me too?

You must recognize me, right?

The crowd on the stands jumped when the white lion abruptly turned its gaze their way.

"What is it staring at?"

"Those eyes..."

Josh Fudge, unbothered, brandished his shotgun in the lion's direction.

His reckless gesture painted a fierce, blood-thirsty glint in Lela, seated just behind to his left.

"They say this white lion devours humans and detests mankind. Maybe it's got its eye on someone here. Good thing during the hunt later, we'll have a chance for a counter-kill. Everyone better be sharp; if we get the chance to take it down, don't hesitate," Josh Fudge said, his eyes alight with competitive fervor.

He loved challenging the impossible.

Hearing this, some in the crowd doubted, while others second-guessed their participation.

Lela glanced at Big White, a terrifying cold smirk curling on her lips.

Good!

Very good!

Using her Big White, like a plaything for these tycoons.

Josh Fudge,

You deserve to die!

In those fleeting seconds, Lela's mind raced through strategies to save Big White from the clutches of these people.

With a thought, Lela sidled into the embrace of Sylvester Gomez, her legs astride around his side, arms wrapped around his neck, her head buried in the crook of his shoulder, her voice thick with a coquettish lilt. "Master Sylvester, I want it."

Sylvester Gomez, puzzled by the sudden closeness, felt a surge of gratification upon hearing her whimsical plea.

Master Sylvester?

This was the first time she had called him that way-an endearing sound to his ears.

He snaked his hand around Lela's slender waist, a relaxed smile spreading across his face, his chin resting atop her head, his voice lazy and casual, "Sweetheart, do you realize what you're inviting with those words?" She was still green, daring to speak to him in such a manner.

Wasn't she afraid of how he might respond?

He... had desires!

An invitation?

Indeed, it was.

Oblivious to the underlying implications in his retort, Lela sweetly called out again, "Master Sylvester."

Unsure if Sylvester Gomez would grant her wish, Lela played her card, batting her eyelashes. She knew he was a sucker for her affectionate pleas.

And yet, she despised having to resort to such tactics.

Sylvester was finding it hard to contain himself. He straightened up, his whole body tense, tilted her chin up, and looked into her sparkling, slightly reddened eyes with an intoxicating, otherworldly gleam in his own amber gaze, "What is it exactly you're asking for?" The suspense was killing him.

Lela turned towards the white lion, pointing, "I want that."

Sylvester followed her gaze to the white lion, which was intently watching something in the stands.

Their eyes met.

Sylvester narrowed his eyes, and upon seeing the glint in the beast's eyes, he raised an eyebrow. This lion was fascinating.

"Why do you want it?"

Sylvester was puzzled; the soft and tender girl didn't seem the type to fancy such a ferocious creature.

Would she not be terrified to have its head as a trophy in her home once it was hunted and mounted?

Lela ignored the pleas of Master Sylvester Gomez, her delicate fingers clutching at the hem of his shirt, lips turned downward, "Won't you give it to me?"

To Master Sylvester Gomez, her words were a siren's call.

The agony of so near yet so far was truly tormenting.

And with her tone brimming with an exaggerated sense of wronged innocence, it was as if she was accusing him of some great injustice.