“Hold up!” Brannik Kade called out again, his sharp eyes sweeping over Drayce from head to toe. People usually shrank the moment they heard his name. Fear came first—then obedience. Yet this young man in front of him didn’t even blink. If anything, Drayce looked bored. That alone made Brannik uneasy. This wasn’t confidence born of ignorance. It felt… deliberate. This guy was hiding something. Heck, he had even dared to call the Dragon Head by name. “You know the Dragon Head?” Brannik asked carefully, testing the waters. “Ask him yourself,” Drayce shot back. A murmur rippled through the men behind Brannik. How much did this guy really know about the Dragon Head? Just then, Brannik’s phone connected. His posture shifted instantly, arrogance draining from his face as he straightened and lowered his voice. “Dragon Head, sir… are you busy right now?” “Get to the point!” the Dragon Head snapped. His temper was foul. Moments ago, he had been told of Drayce’s so-called

The Dragon Head curled into himself and retched violently. He was a complete mess, vomiting acidic bile onto the corridor floor. Despite his condition, the sect leaders crowded around him in panic. “Dragon Head, how are you?” “Quick—take him to the back!” “We’ll avenge you!” “Kill that bastard!” Behind the twenty-five sect leaders stood hundreds of armed subordinates. At the order, weapons were raised in perfect unison, blades and steel glinting under the corridor lights. Every gaze locked onto the suite door, ready to strike at any moment. Then footsteps echoed. Drayce walked out calmly. Seeing the scene before him, he smiled faintly, completely unsurprised. From the moment the alarm rang, he had known reinforcements would come. This group was clearly only the first wave—there would be many more downstairs. But numbers meant nothing to him. Casually, he asked, “Single combat… or a group fight?” The corridor fell silent. Everyone stared at him in disbelief. A young m

The moment Drayce said it, the entire banquet hall fell silent. Then— Laughter erupted. It spread from one corner to another, growing louder by the second. No one believed that a man accused of fraud—fresh out of prison—was worthy of even speaking Nyra Varywn’s name. “You shameless brat,” Amand Kessler sneered. “You must’ve overheard me mention that Ms. Nyra would be at Aurelia Hotel. So you sneaked in, hoping to scam someone important.” Cassian Valtarre shook his head with faint disgust. “No wonder,” he muttered. “Men who’ve spent time in prison rarely come back normal.” He had sensed something off yesterday when Drayce dared to talk back to him. Now it made sense. In Cassian’s mind, only someone broken by prison would show such reckless arrogance. Beside him, Liora stood silently. She looked ethereal in her silver evening gown, calm and untouchable—the undisputed beauty of Aurelia. Her expression revealed nothing, as though the commotion had nothing to do with her.

Nyra didn’t seem to hear the murmurs around her. She turned to Drayce with a calm composure and said, “Drayce, wait here for me. I’ll go get changed.” She had originally planned to change at the King Villa, but with Drayce unexpectedly back, she adjusted her plans. “Sure,” Drayce replied curtly, his tone devoid of emotion. He knew the hall was crowded with curious eyes, and the discussion of the marriage cancellation would have to wait until the banquet ended. No sooner had Nyra disappeared than another wave of speculation erupted in the hall. Guests whispered furiously, making guesses about Drayce’s identity, the reason he had arrived with Ms. Varywn, and whether the rumors of his recent release from prison were true. Some quietly gloated over Lucien’s earlier embarrassment, laughing at how thoroughly he had flattered the wrong person. Meanwhile, others tried to approach Drayce to establish connections, hoping to ride on the influence of someone who had clearly shaken the entire r

“In recent years, the Belgium Group has grown faster than any other company in Aurelia,” Lucien said, puffing out his chest. “I’ve contributed significantly to that growth. So why can’t I be compared to Drayce Black?” Belgium’s eyes flicked to his son with subtle approval. Indeed, Lucien was brilliant, polished, and a hundred times more “respectable” than Drayce. But Nyra’s response would decide the truth of that moment. Nyra’s gaze slowly settled on Lucien. Her lips curved into a faint, almost playful smile. “Because… you’re like the horse that others ride.” The hall erupted. The words struck like a whip, echoing through the grand room. Gasps, then laughter, rippled across the tables. In Aurelia’s high society, this was unthinkable. People gossiped about it endlessly behind closed doors—but here, in front of everyone, Nyra had said it openly, mercilessly. Lucien’s jaw dropped. His mind scrambled. “I…” No words could come. His arrogance evaporated in the heat of her scorn. He wa