The Almighty Dominance (by Sunshine) novel Chapter 403

The lounge fell silent, then erupted in disbelief.

“Holy hell! A hundred grand just to make someone bark? That guy must be drowning in money!”

Another man shook his head with a bitter laugh.

“I can’t even wrap my head around rich folks. A hundred grand is my whole year’s salary. If someone offered me that, I’d bark like a dog for an hour and take the rest of the year off.”

Voices rose from the crowd—some in shock, others in envy, amusement, or raw jealousy.

“Start barking!”

“Bark! Bark!”

And in the bark of a dog, they saw their freedom for sale.

One of the smug businessmen leaned forward, his tone sharp and mocking.

“What’s wrong, kid? Cat got your tongue? Don’t tell me you’ve never even seen a hundred thousand in cash. Get down on all fours. Bark for it, and it’s yours.”

Martin’s expression darkened instantly. “You dare mock me? You think you can flaunt your wealth in my face?”

He snapped his fingers. His driver, waiting quietly in the corner, stepped forward carrying a sleek black suitcase.

Martin popped it open, revealing stacks of cash.

Without hesitation, he peeled off a bundle, then another, slapping the money across the businessman’s face.

Again and again—until the total hit two hundred thousand.

He shoved the last stack at the man. “Two hundred thousand. Double your cheap offer. Now bark, dog.”

The lounge gasped. The stakes had doubled.

Martin wasn’t about to back down, not with two beautiful women watching. His pride was on the line.

Amanda, one of his companions, raised her voice above the noise.

“Old man, do you even know who you’re dealing with? This is Martin! You’re humiliating yourself. He’s money itself—you can’t outbid him.”

A young man chimed in quickly, puffed up with arrogance. “Hah! Martin’s family has hundreds of millions. You think you can beat him? Keep dreaming.”

“Exactly!” another echoed. “Two hundred grand is pocket change to him. Let’s see if you can top that, old man!”

The younger crowd erupted in taunts and laughter, their egos blazing, fueling the tension.

The older businessman didn’t flinch.

“Foolish brats,” he muttered. His eyes narrowed on Martin’s suitcase—he could tell there was still at least four hundred thousand left inside.

He raised his hand, and one of his workers brought over a heavy leather bag.

He pulled out three hundred thousand in crisp bills and hurled it at Martin’s face with a sneer.

Each slap of money was a thunderclap of arrogance.

“I have added three hundred thousand,” the old man said with an icy sneer. “Bark three times—and you’re my dog. Come on, doggy… start barking for your daddy.”

The room froze, every eye locked on Martin.

His face went crimson, shame and rage boiling under his skin. In front of his friends—and worse, in front of the woman he loved—he could not lose. He would not.

With trembling hands, he ripped out the last four hundred thousand from the suitcase.

One by one, he smashed the stacks against the old man’s face, the sound like thunder cracking in the silent lounge.

“I added four fucking hundred thousand!” Martin bellowed, spit flying with his fury. “Now bark, you rotten old dog bastard—bark three times for me!”

The businessman suddenly broke into a smile, sweet and mocking.

Then, without hesitation, he barked loudly in the middle of the lounge.

“Woof. Woof. Woof.”

Amanda burst out laughing, her voice sharp as glass. “Look at you, old man. You’re not a businessman—you’re a dog. And now you’re barking. How dare you think you could compete with Martin in money? Look at the disgrace you’ve become.”

The businessman’s lackey scrambled forward, bending low to snatch the bills off the floor. His hands swept greedily across the carpet as gasps rippled through the lounge.

The old man grinned as his lackey handed him the money.

“Shame?” he said, his voice thick with mockery. “Yes… I’m so ashamed.” Every word dripped with biting sarcasm.

It was obvious to everyone: he didn’t give a damn about the barking. All that mattered was the money.

Martin’s chest tightened. Rage boiled inside him. Six hundred thousand gone, and the old man was laughing—laughing as he pocketed it without shame.

The lounge turned on him.

“What a fool! He’s the real tycoon here—an idiot tycoon!” one man sneered.

“Six hundred grand for three barks? That’s a house, wasted just like that!” another shouted.

“Rich? Maybe. Stupid? Definitely.”

Martin’s ears rang with their jeers. His face burned.

Josephine crossed her arms, lips curling.

“I know he was rich, but this? Blowing six hundred thousand dollars just to make an old man bark?”

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