Chapter 3
Author: Mel Hope
last update2025-05-22 04:29:30

"Yes, Charles, it has been a while." A faint, nostalgic smile played on Antonio’s lips as he looked at his old butler.

His fingers brushed against the edge of the black platinum card as he drifted into deep thought.

Three years ago, as the sole heir to the Morris family empire, Antonio had once been hailed as a genius. His grandfather had entrusted him with the family’s massive fortune early on, putting him through every trial to sharpen him into a true leader.

But none of it mattered the day his mother died. It was sudden and unexplained. The official reports claimed it was an accident, but Antonio had never believed it.

There were too many loose ends and too many details that didn’t add up. The kind of inconsistencies that only screamed one thing—someone had silenced her.

So he came to Gelrith City for the truth, where he met Elaine.

Elaine had been like a fire. A woman who had made him believe in a different life.

For her, Antonio walked away from Vena City and everything the Morris name stood for.

He used his brilliance to build her up. She and her family thrived under his unseen hand. He never asked or needed for credit.

His grandfather had never tried to stop him, just left him with a single promise:

"If you ever change your mind, the family will be waiting."

Antonio had once thought he would never need to return.

But now?

Now, he knew he had been living in an illusion.

Elaine had never loved him. She had only used him as a replacement when Harry had left.

And the cruelest joke was that she believed he’d married her for money.

As he stood in silence, Charles finally broke it.

“Young Master, shall I make arrangements for your return to Vena City? The family is ready for you to take your seat again.”

Antonio shook his head slowly.

"No, not yet."

His investigation into his mother’s death had revealed something chilling. His mother’s killer wasn’t some outsider. It was someone inside the family.

Yet, he still didn’t know who this person was. Returning too soon would only tip them off.

"I will stay in Gerilth City for a while." Antonio said.

He didn’t explain, though he suspected Charles already had an idea.

Because Charles just simply gave a slight nod, then discreetly signaled to a bodyguard, who stepped forward and presented a thick envelope.

Charles handed it over personally. It was a new contract.

"Young Master," Charles said, "since you've decided to remain in Gerilth, the Morris Group’s Gelrith City branch is now under your control."

Antonio took it, and Charles motioned toward the car.

“Shall I take you to the office?”

Antonio shook his head.

“No. I’ll walk.”

He needed air to clear his mind. The divorce, the betrayal. It all still hung heavy on his shoulders.

Charles hesitated for a beat, then nodded with a trace of concern.

“Understood, sir.”

He returned to the car, and within seconds, the vehicle slipped away from the curb in silence, vanishing like it had never been there at all.

Antonio hadn't taken more than a few steps when he suddenly heard the unmistakable roar of another engine.

A fancy sports car screeched to a halt just a few feet away.

The driver’s door swung open, and to Antonio's surprise, it was Harry Gibson who stepped out!

Upon seeing Antonio, Harry let out a loud, mocking laugh.

"Look who we have here! The shameless husband!”

“You’re still here clinging on? Don’t you find yourself disgusting?”

Antonio frowned slightly, his expression unreadable.

Elaine might be fooled by Harry, but Antonio had his own ways of finding out the truth of this guy.

Harry was a gambling addict—through and through.

That so-called business abroad a few years ago? Just a cover story.

The real reason he left the country was because he was on the run from debt collectors.

Antonio had no interest in wasting his breath on a pathetic fool like Harry Gibson.

He didn’t bother responding. Instead, he stepped around Harry, ready to leave.

Some people weren’t worth a second of attention, and Harry was the perfect example.

He was just a worthless, washed-up loser grasping at straws to feel important.

But Harry followed him like an annoying fruit fly.

The playboy smirked, hands stuffed in his pockets as he swaggered closer.

“When are you gonna stop leeching off her like a damn parasite?”

“If Elaine hadn’t taken pity on you, you’d still be curled up on a park bench!"

“I came back to save her from the mess! And trust me, I’m counting the days till she wakes up and boots your sorry ass out of her life for good. It won't take long.”

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  • Chapter 524

    Cynthia stood by the nursery window again, her daughter sleeping peacefully in her arms, unaware of the chaos that had nearly consumed her world. But Cynthia knew better now.This was no longer about defense.This was war.Behind her, Antonio entered quietly, his movements slower than usual. There were faint bruises along his jaw, a cut near his brow, but his presence remained as solid as ever.“It’s done,” he said.Cynthia didn’t turn immediately. “No,” she replied softly. “It’s not.”Antonio paused.She turned to face him, her expression calm—but there was something new in her eyes. Something sharper.“He’s still out there,” she continued. “And as long as he is, this will never end.”Antonio studied her carefully.“You’re right,” he said after a moment. “Which is why we don’t wait anymore.”Cynthia’s grip on their daughter tightened slightly. “What are you planning?”Antonio stepped closer, lowering his voice.“We find him. We dismantle everything he has. His network, his influence,

  • Chapter 523

    The moment the doors closed behind them, Cynthia’s senses sharpened. The air inside was cool, almost unnaturally still, and the soft hum of the building’s ventilation did little to mask the faint click of boots on polished floors. Every shadow seemed to move with purpose. Antonio’s hand found hers, and the grip was firm, grounding her. “Stay alert,” he whispered. She nodded, her mind already mapping exits, potential threats, and angles of attack. All the planning they had done in the past days came alive now. She could hear Robert Adams’ men murmuring behind closed doors, communicating in low voices, assessing. Antonio led her forward, silent, precise, and calm, while Cynthia matched his pace, her heart pounding but her resolve unshaken. They entered a large room at the center of the building, dimly lit, with a single desk in the middle. Behind it, sitting with an unnervingly calm composure, was Robert Adams. He didn’t stand, didn’t move. He simply watched them, his fingers steepled

  • Chapter 522

    Antonio’s hand found hers, and the grip was firm, grounding her. “Stay alert,” he whispered. She nodded, her mind already mapping exits, potential threats, and angles of attack. All the planning they had done in the past days came alive now. She could hear Robert Adams’ men murmuring behind closed doors, communicating in low voices, assessing. Antonio led her forward, silent, precise, and calm, while Cynthia matched his pace, her heart pounding but her resolve unshaken. They entered a large room at the center of the building, dimly lit, with a single desk in the middle. Behind it, sitting with an unnervingly calm composure, was Robert Adams. He didn’t stand, didn’t move. He simply watched them, his fingers steepled, eyes cold and calculating. “So,” he said finally, his voice smooth but edged with venom, “you decided to walk into my world instead of letting it come to you.” Antonio’s jaw tightened. “This ends tonight. No more games.” Robert smiled faintly, almost as if he we

  • Chapter 521

    The night did not return to normal. Even after the attackers had been subdued and the estate secured, a heavy silence lingered in the air—thick, watchful, and untrusting. The guards moved more cautiously than before, their eyes scanning every corner as though expecting the shadows themselves to come alive again. Inside, Cynthia refused to let go of her daughter. She sat in the nursery, rocking gently, as if the rhythm itself could keep danger away. The baby had finally fallen asleep again, her tiny fingers curled against Cynthia’s chest. Antonio stood by the doorway, watching them. For the first time since all of this began, there was something different in his eyes. Not just protectiveness. Not just anger. Decision. He stepped inside quietly. “Cynthia,” he said. She looked up at him, her face still pale, her eyes slightly swollen from crying. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Antonio didn’t answer immediately. That was enough. Cynthia’s heart sank. “Antonio…”

  • Chapter 520

    The faint click echoed louder in Cynthia’s ears than any explosion. Her breath caught in her throat as the hidden door—designed to be impenetrable—shifted slightly inward. No. That wasn’t possible. Antonio had built this room himself. Reinforced steel. Internal locking system. No external override. So how— The door creaked open another inch. Cynthia instinctively stepped back, clutching her daughter tightly against her chest. The baby stirred softly, sensing her mother’s fear, but did not cry. “Who’s there?” Cynthia demanded, her voice trembling despite her effort to sound firm. No response. The door opened wider. A shadow slipped through. Tall. Silent. Calculated. The figure stepped into the dim red glow of the emergency lights, his face partially concealed, his movements controlled and unhurried—as if he knew there was nowhere Cynthia could run. Cynthia’s heart pounded violently. “Stay back!” she warned, her voice breaking slightly. “Don’t come any close

  • Chapter 519

    Cynthia had changed completely. The woman who once relied solely on Antonio’s strength had now become equally vigilant. She moved with awareness, her eyes constantly scanning, her ears attentive to every unusual sound. Even when she held her daughter, gently rocking her to sleep, there was a quiet alertness in her posture—a readiness to act at any moment. Antonio noticed it. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in deep orange hues, he found Cynthia standing by the window in the nursery, staring out toward the gates. “You haven’t rested,” he said softly as he walked in. Cynthia didn’t turn immediately. “Can you blame me?” she replied quietly. “Each time I close my eyes, I remember those men… the way they came in… how close they got.” Antonio stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “They didn’t get far,” he said firmly. “And they never will.” Cynthia turned to him, her eyes searching his face. “You don’t know that for sure,”

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