Chapter 11: Cindy, Be My Woman!
"Okay, I'll let Brian cooperate with you."
Warren was somewhat tempted but remained cautious. He wasn't going to place all his hopes on Tristan. The future that Tristan painted was undeniably enticing, but it wasn't something Warren could trust just yet.
Umbrella was in its prime, but it wasn't without threats and rivals. Preparing for both success and failure seemed like the only logical move.
"You'll be grateful for today's decision… I'll head back and make preparations. Here's to you—the future Mr. President."
These words touched Warren's heart, and his gloomy face also revealed a dangerous ambition.
Noticing this, Tristan's smile also became extremely sinister, and they both picked up the wine glass and clinked it as Warren laughed.
"Haha, well said. Future big boss. Cheers!"
The agreement proceeded smoothly, demonstrating that both men were neither heroes nor righteous. They were self-serving, selfish villains, bound by mutual benefit.
Birds of a feather, indeed.
After the meeting, Tristan returned to his pub and retrieved a bag of money. At this time, the bar was not open yet, and only the waitress Cindy was there, looking confused as she saw him approach.
Tristan tapped Cindy's hips and said, "Take this money. This is for your father's medical treatment. I've got access to a drug that works wonders for heart disease. I'll get my hands on it for you."
Cindy frowned, enduring the slight disgust of being taken advantage of, and bowed.
"Thank you, boss."
"Cindy, can you do me a favor?"
Tristan suddenly asked, taking out a wine glass and pouring himself a glass of wine.
"What's the matter?"
She blinked, unsure where the conversation was headed. As it appeared, Tristan didn't sugarcoat his words and got right to the point when he spoke to her.
"Be my woman. Manage my money. And I can guarantee your safety. I'm not pretending to be a good man, but you're too innocent for this world. I don't want to see you get hurt. And… I've always liked you. I can promise to never abandon you and always take care of you."
He stopped there and let her process what he had said. He only leaned back against the wall, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her with unconsealed desire.
Her uniform clung to her figure, outlining her full breasts and curvy waist. The skirt stretched over her round, firm ass, teasing the outline of her thighs.
Tristan couldn't take his eyes off her. The sight of her, a beautiful blonde who was innocent and untouched by the harshness of life, made his blood rush.
Cindy had always known this day would come. She just never expected it to come so soon, and Tristan to be so blunt about it.
She stammered, caught off guard.
"I... I don't know."
But Tristan didn't need an answer. He pulled the blonde beauty into his arms, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered, tempting her like the devil himself.
"Cindy, you know I've always protected you. No one else gets to touch you. Just give me a chance."
There were a lot of seductive and slutty women in Raccoon City, but women like Cindy who were beautiful, had a good figure, were virtuous, gentle, and were still virgins were really rare. If he didn't seize the opportunity, would he give it to others?
Impossible!
If that was the case, why would he keep her by his side for so long and be so kind to her?
She was his—whether she agreed or not. By hook or by crook, he would claim her.
Cindy, clearly conflicted, hesitated. Tristan had always been kind to her, creating a sense of obligation that left her unsure how to respond.
Seeing her moment of indecision, he seized the opportunity and pressed his lips against hers. His hands gripped her tightly as he deepened the kiss, forcefully covering her mouth with his own.
"Mmm!"
Cindy's eyes widened. She was a little surprised, angry, and embarrassed.
But she didn't push him away.
She couldn't.
Her father needed the money, and Tristan had always been good to her. She couldn't bring herself to outright reject him, just like she couldn't stand by and watch her father wither away from illness without doing anything—even if it meant sacrificing part of herself.
"Cindy, I'll take care of you," Tristan murmured in a voice coated with false affection.
"I love you."
The word rolled off his tongue effortlessly, devoid of meaning but cloaked in sincerity.
He'd used the same line on Jill, and now he was using it on Cindy—he was like a veteran in the field of love since manipulation had always been his second nature.
It even made Cindy feel trapped.
"Can I... think about it? Please, boss."
Tristan smiled and nodded as his eyes narrowed in satisfaction.
"Of course. I'll go with you to visit your father sometime. I know you need money, and I need someone to trust with mine. Come by my apartment tonight and take this money to pay the medical bills in the meantime."
His hand slid down, pinching her ass as he added.
"Don't worry about money, Cindy. I'm your boyfriend now, and it's my responsibility to take care of you."
Cindy bit her lip and secretly made up her mind. Tristan's sweet words had planted the seed of acceptance in her mind.
Deep down, she understood the consequences of this decision, but understanding didn't mean she could stop it.
She had no power to change the situation, so she forced herself to embrace it.
"Okay… thank you."
She whispered, and Tristan chuckled, patting her head gently.
"Good girl. Now, help me out here and watch the place while I'm gone."
He leaned in again and claimed her lips, but this time his tongue pushed its way into her mouth. Cindy opened her teeth without much resistance, allowing his big tongue to conquer her as she swallowed his saliva.
Satisfied with her submissive behavior, Tristan released her and stepped back with a smirk playing on his lips.
"I'll be back later."
With that, he left the bar and headed for the police station, and soon met Chief Brian Irons.
"Brian, this is your share. Later, I'll send someone to raid the gangs in the East District. After that, I will give you more money. Did Mayor Warren contact you?"
Tristan's voice was calm as he lit a cigarette with a sharp, dangerous glint in his eyes.
The chief of the Raccoon City Police Department, Brian, was not a good person. He accepted bribes and was a loyal lackey of Umbrella. He picked up the bag, weighing it in his hands.
"He called me, so I figured you'd to go through with it. We've got rats in the station. I'll send them out."
"Then kill them. A spy's only fate is death. Just make up a reason and get away with it," Tristan replied coldly. To him, human lives meant nothing. They were just pawns.
"You handle it. Call me when it's done."
Brian didn't want to drag the conversation out. He was more interested in counting the cash so that he could buy some rare treasures later.
Once their deal was settled, Tristan left the station and gathered his brothers to raid the bars in the East District, seizing control of the local gangs' operations there.
Simultaneously, the police moved in, arresting the gang leader. With their boss out of the picture, the gang crumbled, and they were wiped out with little resistance.
Bars, saunas—prime businesses ripe for exploitation. Tristan didn't need to get involved directly. He just had to collect the protection money, ensure their safety, and pocket the profits.
In the Rose Bar, several men, a mix of black and white, sat around a table.
Tristan sat in the head seat, tossing stacks of cash at each of them.
"Good work today. Keep it up and get some rest. Soon, Raccoon City will be ours. This is just the beginning. Our reach will eventually stretch across the entire country."
"Thanks, boss!"
Several of these men have been working with Tristan for many years. Their abilities were not particularly outstanding, but they were extremely loyal.
"Remember, when I'm not around, Cindy's in charge. Whatever she says, it's as if I said it. Anyone who dares to cross will be killed without mercy! Don't worry about the consequences. I'll make sure you all come out fine and receive your generous share."
Tristan's tone carried a mix of disdain and warning. His men knew better than to challenge him.
After all, today's operation blurred the lines between law and crime—officials working hand-in-hand with outlaws like them. The police were clearly backing Tristan.
If anyone was still ignorant of Tristan's power and influence, they'd be better off dead than making a fool of themselves by sticking around.