Chapter 6
Elvis knew without a doubt that Arabella was ready to create a scene, and he wasn't ready for it. "Can you and your family members have a little courtesy and respect for yourselves and stop this public madness?" Elvis asked, shaking his head. His words only angered Arabella more. "How dare you call my family mad? You're good for nothing! After all we've done for you!" Arabella retorted, brewing with anger. Anita, on the other hand, was still standing close to the car when she saw Elvis and a lady talking. She could tell the lady looked upset, but with how calm Elvis was, it was obvious they knew each other. She didn't want to interrupt whatever discussion they were having, so as not to be on Elvis' bad side, her potential client. She stayed a bit far from them and got herself busy with her phone, awaiting the end of their discussion. "Wait! Are you stalking me and my family?" Arabella questioned, her tone filled with untamed anger. "First, you were at the bank to cause havoc for my mom and sister, and now you're here! What's your problem? Can't you see you're not needed in our lives? I regret ever saying yes to marrying you years back!" Elvis kept a neutral expression as he watched Arabella's display. He wondered if there was something wrong with all the females in the Reyker's family. "You must really think highly of yourself to think I'll be busy stalking you like you're some million dollars," Elvis said coldly. His tone showed he was fed up with Arabella's nonsense. Arabella couldn't believe her ears; there was no further proof needed to show her mother and sister were right. Elvis must have harassed them. "The fact that I thought you were a calm man... you pretending bastard! Now you're showing your true character. I had almost doubted my mother when she told me how you attacked her with your hoodlums and made them chase her away from the bank today!" Elvis couldn't help but arch his brow as a surprise chuckle escaped his lips. "Never knew a woman as old as Mrs. Reyker could tell such a cheap lie!" He said in sarcasm that annoyed Arabella. "How dare you speak about my mother in such a manner!" She yelled, her hands raising to hit Elvis on the cheek, but he was quick enough to hold her back. With Elvis' hand tightly gripped on the aggressive lady, he warned, "You should do better than trying to hit a man. That doesn't say well of you as a lady!" Arabella kept struggling with him to let go so she could slap him. Elvis was about to let go of his grip on her when Albert's voice rang from behind. "What are you trying to do, you bastard!" He yelled. "Are you trying to hit a woman... I mean, my woman?" He yelled. "Your bulging eyes should be big enough to see who was trying to hit the other!" Elvis said as he let go of her hands. The scene had begun to attract onlookers who were already whispering around. Anita, who had been on her phone waiting for Elvis, also got attracted by the loud verbal abuse coming from Arabella. Arabella was bent on creating a scene the moment she saw others looking; she increased her voice, wanting to victimize Elvis. Albert West, on the other hand, wasn't left out. He felt Elvis was too full of himself and needed to be taught a lesson, which should include public ridicule. What shocked both the onlookers and Anita was how composed, unbothered, and calm Elvis was while the duo kept causing commotion. "I'm sure the composed man is so broke and doesn't have a say," one of the onlookers said. "Albert West and his fiancée are highly respected people. Who is that commoner beside them?" Another voice rang. Anita felt pained with how the onlookers were judging Elvis based on his appearance. She knew Albert West's worth, and he was nothing compared to Elvis, not even half. To her, Elvis was one of those wealthy men who love to keep a low profile, unlike the Wests and even her family, the Johnsons, who were so popular. Anita adjusted her gown and walked to where Elvis was, gently placing her hands on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, babe. I was busy with some business calls. Can we go in now?" She said in a calm voice as she tried to lock eyes with Elvis. At first, Elvis was taken aback, but quickly understood what she was up to. "That's not a problem!" He replied softly. "Wait a second, is that not the Johnsons' heiress, Anita Johnson?" One of the onlookers said in shock. "Oh my goodness...she's the one! The beauty goddess herself! That commoner must be incredibly lucky to have someone like her," another onlooker added. "She's even more beautiful than Albert West's fiancée. She's one of the top two most beautiful women in the city." The onlookers' words made Arabella's skin crawl as she stared at Anita, who was comfortably resting her hand on Elvis's shoulder. The onlookers' words were true; Anita was a beauty to behold. Albert West sulked in shame as the onlookers' words kept ringing in his ears. How was it possible that Elvis had caught someone like Anita's attention? He wished he was the one with Anita; a marriage between the West and Johnson families would be a significant one, he thought to himself. Arabella's voice interrupted his thoughts. "How is it possible that you're in a relationship with her just a few days after our divorce? You're a shameless cheater!" she roared. Elvis, seeing that Arabella was ready to create more drama, gently turned to Anita and spoke, "We're running late, my lady." He said with a faint smile as they both walked away, leaving the duo feeling ashamed and defeated. "Isn't that the bank director?" Arabella questioned Albert West. "Your mom called to tell me what happened at the bank, and now I see what really happened. Anita Johnson must have favored her lover!" Albert West said, his eyes fixed on Elvis and Anita as they walked into the hall. "I don't think the Johnson patriarch or the bank's board of directors will like the news of Anita being with a nobody and making a public mockery of her position. Just calm down, I'll make a few calls, and we'll have the last laugh!" He declared with pride.Latest Chapter
Chapter Hundred and twenty three
Dr. Preston stopped beside the heavy black gate of the Escobar mansion, his fingers firm on the steering wheel. He stepped out of his car, the gravel crunching softly beneath his shoes. The gate creaked open as if it had been expecting him.Victor Escobar stood at the pavement, dressed in a dark suit that fit him like authority itself. “I thought you wouldn’t honor my invitation,” Victor said with a faint smile. “Since your little ordeal with the Johnsons, you’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”Atleast Dr Preston was one of the few people who respects him and would be a good allie for the war goddess wish.Preston forced a polite laugh. “I wasn’t avoiding you, Victor. I was saving you—and myself—from further harm.”Victor’s brow lifted slightly, amused. “Further harm?”He turned and gestured toward the house. “Come. Let’s discuss this inside.”“Champagne,” Victor said to a maid at the corner without looking at her. “Two glasses.”She nodded and disappeared toward the kitchen.Th
Chapter One hundred and twenty two
The butler, stood motionless for a while at the foot of the staircase, his wrinkled hands trembling slightly. He could still feel the sting of the slap on his face, but it wasn’t the pain that unsettled him — it was fear. Not for himself, but for the young master.He turned away slowly and walked toward his chamber at the east wing. Every step echoed softly against the floor. Inside, the dim yellow glow of a lantern cast long, uneasy shadows on the walls.He sat heavily on the edge of his bed, pressing his fingers to his temples. Something isn’t right, he thought. Jeremy isn’t just being arrogant — he’s plotting something.He had known Jeremy since he was a boy — a spoiled, cunning child who grew up with a father who knows how to manipulate people like chess pieces. And the way he had spoken today — the venom in his voice, the coldness in his laughter — felt darker than that of his father.Jeremy was becoming worse than his father.The old butler sighed, staring at the small wooden b
Chapter Hundred and twenty one
The butler was still whispering to Elvis when a sharp, commanding voice thundered from upstairs.“Old man! Old man! Come here immediately!” The butler’s head snapped up toward the staircase, and his entire body went stiff. The sound of Jeremy’s voice echoed through the mansion like a warning bell.Elvis frowned deeply. “This guy is really, really rude,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “I think the best thing we can do is put him in his place.”The butler turned quickly, panic flashing in his eyes. “Please, young master,” he said as he dropped to his knees, his voice trembling. “Please, don’t do anything. Don’t confront him. I’ll handle it, I promise. Please.”“But he’s out of line,” Elvis said, his voice low but heavy with controlled anger. “You can’t just let him—”“Please, Elvis,” the butler cut in again, lowering his head. “Please, don’t worry. I’ve dealt with worse. I’ll put up with him, no matter how he behaves. Just let me handle this.”Elvis clenched his jaw an
chapter Hundred and twenty
Elvis leaned back on the chair, his eyes fixed on the butler. There was a quiet storm behind his calm expression—confusion, curiosity, and a tinge of disappointment. The silence between them stretched long enough to be felt, broken only by the soft ticking of the wall clock.Finally, Elvis spoke, his tone quiet but edged with emotion. “You seem like someone who’s afraid of him,” he said, tilting his head slightly toward the stairs where Jeremy had gone. “I’ve never seen you feel fear in the presence of anyone before. I’ve only ever known you as a strong, composed man… someone who knows how to handle every situation.” His eyes narrowed a little, searching the butler’s face. “So why does someone like him—someone whose father left home years ago—send so much fear into you?”The butler exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging. He sat down slowly on the chair beside Elvis, folding his hands together. His voice was calm but carried a tremor of something deeper. “Young master,” he said softly,
chapter hundred and Nineteen
Jeremy’s smirk lingered as he threw the half-burnt cigarette into a tray and dusted his palms like a man claiming ownership of the room. Then, with a slight stretch of his arm, he pointed toward his suitcase at the door.“You,” he said sharply, his eyes locking on the butler, “carry my suitcase upstairs. Put it in one of the rooms at the back. I think it’s time the rightful owner of this house takes his place again.”The butler hesitated, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something. His old hands twitched nervously, and for a brief moment, he stood still, looking from Jeremy to the suitcase and then at Elvis. His silence said it all—weariness, confusion, and reluctant obedience. But without another word, he finally walked toward the door, bent slightly, and picked up the suitcase.Just as he turned to climb the stairs, Jeremy’s voice echoed again, filled with mockery. “Wait a second, old man,” he said with a half grin. “Why are you the one carrying the suitcase? Why is
Chapter One hundred and eighteen
"You don’t look excited to see me, old man!" Jeremy said sarcastically the moment he stepped into the mansion, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. He dropped his coat on the couch without care, his tone dripping with mockery.The butler turned slowly from where he stood. His wrinkled face showed no anger—only surprise, perhaps even disbelief. "Not really, sir," he said quietly. "It’s just that it’s been years, and the way you and your father left back then was almost like disappearing into thin air."Jeremy’s brow arched sharply. "So, are you trying to say I’m not welcome here?" he asked, his tone sharp and deliberately provoking. He stepped closer, his boots echoing on the floor."No, Jeremy… I’m just surprised!" the butler replied quickly, his voice trembling slightly as he clasped his hands together in a gesture of respect.Jeremy chuckled mockingly. "The last time I checked, you were just my uncle’s most trusted servant. So what gave you the right to call me by my
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