DEREK MORRISON CAME BACK FOR REVENGE

Chapter 7

Hearing what Derek had just said, Patricia's parents exchanged a quick glance, and the look that passed between them made it clear that neither of them believed a single word coming out of his mouth.

They could not believe him, because none of it made sense to them. A man like Derek, someone with no family, no name, and no future, would never willingly walk away from a marriage arrangement that could have secured him a lifetime of comfort and protection.

 His entire bloodline had been wiped out more than fifteen years ago, his family name meant nothing to anyone anymore, and there was no one left in the world he could call his own. So if that was true, if he truly had nothing and no one, then why would he stand here and claim he wanted nothing from this marriage? What kind of man in his position would throw away the one chance he had to breathe a little easier? It did not add up, not in their minds.

Patricia's mother was the first to speak, her arms crossing over her chest as she studied Derek with open suspicion. "I do not believe you," she said flatly.

Her husband nodded beside her. "Neither do I."

"We should go inside and speak with my father," she continued, turning slightly toward the estate behind her.

 "He is the one who arranged this marriage in the first place, and he does not go back on his word once he has given it. We know him well enough to understand that. So we will go to him, report everything you have said, and let him decide what to do with you. This little trick of yours will not work on us."

Derek did not feel insulted by any of it. He did not feel a flicker of anger rise in his chest, because none of what they said mattered enough to shake him. But he also understood that if he let them continue speaking to him this way, if he let them believe that having no family gave them the right to look down on him and speak to him like he was beneath them, they would never stop.

So he decided to correct them.

"Let me clarify something," Derek said, his voice calm but firm enough to cut through the tension in the air. "Yes, my family is gone. Yes, my bloodline was wiped out. But none of that gives any of you the right to speak to me the way you have been speaking to me since I arrived at this gate."

Patricia's eyes narrowed, but Derek continued before she could interrupt.

"And who told you that under normal circumstances, I would even choose her?" He glanced briefly at Patricia, taking in the pride written across her face, the medals on her chest, the way she carried herself like the entire world owed her something. 

"I am not interested in marrying someone who thinks respect is optional, someone who believes everyone else should bow to her. I have seen enough of her pride already. I told you before, and I will say it again, I am not interested in this marriage. If there is anything I can do to prove that to you, tell me, and I will gladly do it. But understand this: I did not come here for a wedding. I came here because I have far more important matters to attend to, and the only reason my face is standing at this gate today is to heal Old Master West. That is the only reason."

That was the truth, though it was not the whole truth.

Somewhere deep inside him, buried beneath fifteen years of discipline and quiet patience, Derek carried something heavier than any marriage arrangement or family insult could ever touch. He carried the memory of that night, the night his entire bloodline had been slaughtered without mercy, and he carried the names of the people responsible for it, names he had spent fifteen years trying to uncover piece by piece.

He wanted revenge.

He wanted it so badly that some nights it kept him awake long after the mountain had gone silent, long after Master Zachariah had gone to sleep and the only sound left in the world was wind moving through pine trees. He understood exactly why his master had warned him never to reveal that his bloodline had awakened, because the people who destroyed his family were still out there somewhere, still breathing, still walking free, and if they ever sensed that Derek's power had returned, they would come looking for him before he was ready to face them.

He was strong now. Fifteen years of training had given him mastery over acupuncture, over the ancient healing techniques passed down through generations, over every form of martial arts Master Zachariah had been willing to teach him and those he got with his bloodline, including techniques so advanced that few in the world still remembered how to perform them correctly. He had pushed his body and mind past limits most people never touched in a lifetime, and there were few men left in this world who could stand against him now.

But few was not none.

He still needed to grow stronger, still needed time before he stepped into the open and let the world see exactly what he had become, and until that day arrived, he intended to keep his bloodline hidden from anyone who might recognize what it meant.

Patricia studied him from head to toe while he stood there in silence, her sharp eyes taking in the plain, worn clothing he wore, clothing that clearly had never come from a tailor or a boutique, clothing that told anyone looking at him exactly where he had come from. It was obvious, without needing to ask, that he had just walked down from the mountain, that the letter was the only reason he had shown up here at all, and the way he dressed only made his claims about not wanting the marriage seem even more like a poorly constructed lie in her eyes.

Before she could open her mouth to say anything else, the sound of tires rolling smoothly against pavement interrupted the moment, and a sleek black Mercedes Maybach pulled to a stop directly behind Derek.

A bodyguard stepped out first and moved quickly to open the rear door, and a moment later a tall, handsome man stepped out from the back seat, dressed in a tailored suit that fit him like it had been made for no one else but him, carrying himself with the kind of easy confidence that came from a lifetime of never being told no.

The moment Patricia's parents saw him, their entire demeanor shifted.

The anger that had been sitting on their faces only seconds earlier disappeared completely, replaced by wide, eager smiles as both of them bowed slightly in his direction.

"Young Master Bosworth," Patricia's father said warmly, his voice practically glowing with excitement. "What a pleasure to see you today. We were not expecting you to come by."

Bosworth Junior smiled, the expression polished and practiced. "I decided to come see Patricia," he said smoothly. "And I heard that your father has taken ill recently, so I went out of my way to bring someone who could help."

He gestured toward the car behind him, and a second man stepped out, dressed simply but carrying himself with a quiet, unshakable presence that immediately drew every eye toward him.

The moment Patricia's parents saw his face, their jaws dropped.

They knew exactly who he was.

Doctor Cole.

Everyone in the country knew the name, because Doctor Cole was widely regarded as one of the top three or four physicians alive today, a man so skilled and so difficult to book that entire hospitals rearranged their schedules just for the chance to consult with him for a single afternoon. His reputation reached into every corner of the medical world, and the fact that Bosworth Junior had personally gone out of his way to bring him here, to their home, for their sick father, left both of Patricia's parents speechless for a moment.

Patricia's father finally found his voice, bowing a little deeper this time. "You should not have gone through such trouble," he said, his tone thick with gratitude. "Bringing Doctor Cole here yourself, just for my father's sake. I am truly grateful. Thank you."

Bosworth Junior waved a hand casually, his smile widening. "It is nothing at all," he said. "What else would I do for my future in-laws, if not give them the very best?"