2025-06-19 22:24:45Seth drove his car through the city as fast as he could without causing a stir.
Although he told Lucas to get him a simple car, Lucas tended to overdo things sometimes.
His car could literally buy a small island.
Seth smoothly parked in a corner, he quickly came down from the car and walked into the mansion in the middle of the estate.
Although Seth preferred to dress simple and most times casual, he definitely felt out of place.
Everyone else he could spot either wore the most expensive clothes that money could buy or ceaselessly flaunted their wealth.
He scanned the room for someone who could point him toward the bride. His eyes landed on a short, wizened old man with a scraggly beard that almost reached his chest.
Mr. Kane Fidel, the housekeeper.
"I greet you, sir," Seth bowed slightly to the man.
Mr. Fidel scowled. "Who let this beggar in here?" He jabbed his cane towards Seth, who turned to find no one behind him.
"Are you referring to me, sir?" Seth asked, bewildered. He hadn't expected to be mistaken for a beggar. A servant, maybe, but a beggar?
'Perhaps I should take Lucas's fashion advice more seriously,' he sighed inwardly.
"Relax, buddy. I'm just here to wish Emily a happy marriage and well drop by—"
“Cut the act!” Kane snapped, his voice shrill. “I know who you are—Emily’s ex-fiancé. A useless loser!”
“You’re just scared no one will bankroll your sorry life once she’s married, so you showed up to make trouble, didn’t you?”
Seth’s eye twitched. He kept a low profile, but somehow that had turned into rumors about him being some gold-digging stripper.
Honestly, it was so absurd it was almost funny.
“Well,” Seth drawled, raising both hands in mock surrender, “looks like we’ve got ourselves a little misunderstanding. I swear, I didn’t come here to cling to Emily.”
“I’m just here to drop off a few… essentials. You do know about Emily’s condition, right?”
"Enough lies! We all know you're still bitter after the engagement was called off. We know what you want. Once you're alone with Miss Emily, you'll demand more money, won't you? Once a beggar, always a beggar!" Mr. Fidel roared.
A choir of laughter broke out as everyone laughed and pointed fingers at Seth.
The guards, hearing the ruckus, ran over to his direction.
But it was at that moment when the bride suddenly came down the stairs.
"What's all this commotion?" Emily called out, radiant in her wedding dress.
Gasps filled the room as she glided through the crowd, heads bowing in respect.
Even the man who stood by her side, her groom, didn't seem to match the aura which she possessed.
"Forgive me, miss! This filth crashed your wedding! He'll be removed immediately!" Mr. Fidel bowed to Emily.
Emily's gaze landed on Seth, and a smile touched her lips. "Seth?" She giggled.
Seth rolled his eyes before fixing on a benign smile. "Emily, long time no see." He waved casually.
"Repulsive!" Mr. Fidel sputtered.
"Calm yourself, Mr. Fidel," Emily said sharply, silencing him. She smirked at the man, her eyes roving over his tall frame.
"What brings you here? Upset about our broken engagement?" She smiled knowingly.
"No, no, no, not at all." Seth shook his head.
"I actually prefer it this way. Marriages are such a burden, don't you think?"
He grinned back, all teeth. He meant every word that he said.
But that didn't please Emily.
Her face twisted, going red with rage.
"Bastard!" She spat. "You're only here for a settlement, aren't you? I should never have associated with someone so poor!"
“I’m here on behalf of my mentor—to deliver some medicine,” Seth sighed. Maybe it was time he stopped flying under the radar.
“And I know this might be hard to believe, but I’m not exactly hurting for cash.”
Seth's fingers dove into his pocket, emerging with a small bottle.
"Here, the medicine you begged for." He extended his hand, offering the promised salvation.
All eyes locked onto it, and a single, burning question seemed to rise in unison—what hidden illness was Emily, the newlywed bride of a wealthy family, trying so hard to conceal? Did William know? And if he did… would he still want her?
The guests exchanged sly smirks, their gazes dripping with mockery as they looked the couple up and down.
Emily went ballistic—did he just imply she was crazy? At her own damn engagement party, in front of half the city’s elite? The bastard must be out of his fucking mind.
Emily's hand lashed out, a swift, brutal strike that sent the bottle flying. It spun through the air, landing on the hard floor with a jarring clatter, miraculously unbroken.
"Don't flatter yourself!"
"I Never asked anything from you, ever. How dare you twist the truth and accuse me?" she spat, her eyes blazing with venomous fury.
Something in Seth snapped. The playful mask shattered, replaced by a chilling coldness that radiated from his eyes.
"I offered you a lifeline, Emily," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"And you've rejected it with both hands. You've chosen death."
"Life and death are guided by destiny, and so shall your life be!"
He raised his voice, the words ringing with a chilling finality.
Emily’s eyes burned red with rage, "You son of bitch! Who the fuck gave you the guts to—"
"I did!"
A commanding female voice rang out from behind.
Emily turned around with an annoyed flick of her head, ready to snap at whoever dared to interrupt her mid-sentence—
Only to see Rose, dressed in a striking red gown, striding toward them with a stormy expression.
She wasn’t just walking—she was radiating fury, like a queen descending to deliver judgment.
Who the hell had the nerve to piss off the Tyrel family heiress?
Emily’s heart skipped a beat. She swallowed hard, guilt creeping in.
But the surrounding guests clearly misunderstood the scene.
"Wow, Emily really landed a great man—Miss Rose herself came to celebrate their engagement!"
"Right? With William by her side, Emily’s family is about to rise to the top!"
"And if Miss Rose is here to offer her blessings personally, that says everything!"
Emily’s eyes lit up at once. That’s it! That must be it—
Rose was here on William’s invite— to congratulate her!
She quickly ran forward, ignoring Seth.
"Ms. Tyrel!” She called, breathless, coming to stop in front of the woman and clasping her hands neatly even as they trembled.
“I greet you and thank you for gracing the House of Fidel with your presence," Emily bowed her head as respectfully as she could.
After all, Rose stood before her, the family with the most influence in this region.
But Rose Tyrel ignored Emily and all the others that had bowed to show her respect, walking past her like she wasn't even there and headed towards Seth.
"Why have you been ignoring me? Why aren't you answering my calls from your ear ring?" Rose demanded, clearly annoyed.
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Latest Chapter
Chapter 94. A Deal in the White Room.
Seth’s POVThree days.That’s how long it had been since I last saw Lucas. Three long, empty days filled with sedatives, sterile lights, and the mechanical sound of my own breathing echoing against white walls. I’d been fed, spoken to, and put back to sleep like a lab animal. Somewhere between the second and third injection, I stopped resisting.My reasoning was simple, if I couldn’t think of a way out, I might as well do nothing at all. I let them poke, prod, question, and study. At least it gave them purpose.I didn’t have one anymore.The silence of the room had become a living thing, a companion that hummed softly in my ears. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and burnt metal, a mix that somehow reminded me of the lab before it exploded. Sometimes, when I stared too long at the ceiling lights, I could still see the flash, the wave, the moment everything changed.That afternoon, if I could even call it afternoon, since the light here never changed, the door hissed open with its
Chapter 93. The Weight of Obedience.
Lucas’s POVThe door clicked shut behind me, sealing Seth inside the sterile white chamber. The sound echoed in my skull like a gunshot. I stood there for a moment, my hand still resting on the door handle, as if part of me was afraid that letting go meant accepting what I’d just done.The hallway was just as blinding as the room—white walls, white floor, white light. No warmth, no comfort. Everything about this facility was designed to strip the soul out of whoever entered.I finally exhaled, long and shaky. My lips felt dry, and I licked them instinctively, trying to ground myself in something human—something real. But the bitter taste of guilt lingered there.Seth’s voice still echoed in my head. The way he shouted my name, the confusion in his eyes, the betrayal that I couldn’t bring myself to explain.He had every right to hate me.And the worst part? He didn’t even know the half of it.I turned and began walking down the corridor, my steps heavy. The guards stationed near the c
Chapter 92. The Chair.
Seth’s POVWhen I woke up, I wasn’t sure if I was alive, dead, or something in between. My head pounded like a drum, and every muscle in my body ached. My vision blurred at first, then cleared slowly under the blinding white lights above me. Everything was sterile—too clean, too perfect. A white room. A single white chair. And me, strapped to it like a test subject in some twisted science fair.The air was cold enough to sting my lungs. My hands and legs were bound, but not by metal. It wasn’t steel or iron or any alloy I could twist or bend. The material felt strange—warm, flexible, and yet… unyielding. It was like rubber, but tougher. Reinforced. Designed specifically for me.I tugged at it once, twice. Nothing. No give, no strain. My pulse quickened.“What the hell is this?” I muttered under my breath. I pulled harder, twisting my wrists, trying to feel for any weak point, any tear. Nothing.Frustration rose in me like fire. “Hey!” I shouted into the blinding white void. “Is anyone
Chapter 91. The Golden Fugitive.
Seth’s POVThe moment I heard the words restrain him, something in me snapped. There wasn’t time to think, just pure, animal instinct. I ran. My feet hit the gravel so hard that I felt the ground dent beneath me. Then came the sound I’d been dreading, the sharp hiss and thunder of gunfire.Rubber bullets, I thought at first. It made sense, they weren’t trying to kill me, at least not yet. But there were so many, thousands of them. It was like standing in a storm made of pain and compressed air. Every impact jolted my body, knocking the breath out of me, but I didn’t feel torn apart the way I expected to.Then I realized why.My skin didn’t bruise.Each hit produced a faint metallic echo, a vibration I could feel down to my bones. I glanced at my arm while running and saw the faint shimmer of gold flicker across it beneath the moonlight. My blood, the thing that had terrified me since I woke up wasn’t just for decoration. It was protection. My body had turned into something else.The s
Chapter 90. The Breakout.
Seth’s POVI’d lost track of how many days I’d been in this sterile white box they called a recovery room. Could’ve been five, maybe ten. The food always arrived on schedule, usually tasteless mush delivered by a faceless guard who never looked me in the eye. The doctor supposedly advised against any physical activity or external exposure, whatever the hell that meant. They called it precaution. I called it what it really was... captivity.At first, I didn’t care. My body was still healing, still... changing. My reflection had become something I barely recognized. Golden veins that pulsed faintly beneath my skin. Eyes that shimmered like liquefied metal when the light hit them wrong. Machines around me glitched if I stared at them too long. My touch bent the steel railing of my bed like it was clay.But boredom is a dangerous thing. It breeds questions, questions that can kill you if you think about them too hard.Why hadn’t Lucas visited?Why hadn’t Alex?Why had the president’s aide
Chapter 89. Metal and Flesh.
Seth's POVI had been awake for hours, yet the room felt the same as it had when I first opened my eyes. Sterile white walls, the faint hum of machinery, the occasional beep from monitors that charted my vitals. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic, a thin layer of hospital smell that clung to everything. And yet, despite the clinical monotony, nothing felt normal. Nothing had been normal since that explosion.I had been lying there for what felt like an eternity, confined to a bed that was far too small for what I now was. I hadn’t seen Lucas, I hadn’t seen Alex, and there had been no word from the president’s aide, just food, water, and the faint assurances that I was recovering. Recovering, as if I were some fragile human being, when the truth was far more complicated now.I flexed my fingers and noticed something strange. My skin glinted faintly gold under the harsh fluorescent light. My eyes, once dull brown, now shimmered like molten metal. At first, I thought I was imagining i
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