Exiled Son-In-Law, Supreme General

Chapter 7

The two security guards squared their shoulders, unsure whether to approach Maxwell or wait for further instruction. 

Stella’s voice was already rising again, shrill with manufactured outrage. Peter, still sprawled on the ground, groaned theatrically, clutching his elbow for effect.

Then, cutting through the clamor like a blade through silk, came a cold, clear voice: “Who said he needs to give you money?”

The words rang out across the hotel’s polished driveway. Heads turned. A gust of night air swept in as a new figure stepped forward, Victoria, framed by the golden light spilling from the hotel’s entrance.

She was breathtaking in her crimson dress, her hair tumbling in perfect waves over her shoulders, a faint smile tugging at her lips. 

But there was nothing soft in her eyes now. Those bright, mischievous eyes had hardened into something far sharper, something that could cut.

Stella blinked, momentarily disoriented by the commanding presence before her. “And… who might you be?”

Victoria ignored the question. She crossed the space between them with long, confident strides, her stiletto heels striking the pavement like drumbeats. 

Her bodyguards, two men in tailored black suits, trailed silently behind her, a wall of quiet menace.

She stopped beside Maxwell, her shoulder brushing his as if to stake a silent claim. Her gaze swept over Stella and Peter as if they were nothing more than dust on the wind. “Funny,” she said lightly, though her tone was ice-cold, “I didn’t realize extortion and public theatrics were the Jiang family’s specialties.”

Stella flushed, her poise faltering. “Extortion? This man attacked my son and stole from my daughter!”

“Attacked?” Victoria tilted her head, regarding Peter with a faint smirk. “Your son has a flair for drama. I watched the cameras on my way out, he threw himself on the ground like an amateur actor auditioning for scraps. Pathetic.”

Peter’s face turned crimson. “You!”

But one of Victoria’s bodyguards took a single step forward, and Peter’s voice broke off with a squeak.

Victoria’s gaze flicked to the pendant glinting at Stella’s throat. “That necklace,” she said quietly. “Hand it over.”

Stella’s hand tightened around the heirloom instinctively. “It was given to my daughter. It belongs to our family now.”

“No,” Victoria said, her voice dropping to a deadly calm. “It belongs to him. And if you had any sense of honor, you’d return it.”

The air around them grew taut. The security guards exchanged uneasy glances, the authority they’d felt a moment ago slipping away. 

Something about this woman, her confidence, her entourage, her unspoken power, made it clear she wasn’t just another socialite.

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Stella tried, her tone wavering between bravado and fear.

Victoria’s lips curved into a dangerous smile. “Do you?”

Stella hesitated, her instincts warning her that she was outmatched. She began to unclasp the necklace, forcing a laugh. “This is all a misunderstanding. Of course, I’ll return it.”

But just as she extended her hand, Peter lurched forward, snatching the pendant from her fingers. “If we can’t have it, then neither can he!” he snarled, hurling it down with all his strength.

The pendant struck the pavement with a sharp crack and shattered into glittering fragments.

For a heartbeat, the world went silent. Maxwell’s breath caught. He crouched slowly, his hands trembling as he gathered the shards, the last gift from his late mother. 

A thousand memories flashed before his eyes: his mother’s gentle smile, the day she had pressed the pendant into his palm, her voice whispering that it would protect him.

Behind him, Victoria’s bodyguards moved with silent precision, pinning Peter and Stella to the ground before they could react. Peter yelped, his bravado crumbling instantly.

“Do you know who my sister is?!” he spat, writhing in the guards’ grip. “She’s the CEO of Yaolin Group! And her future husband is the heir of the Makai family! Touch me, and you’ll regret it!”

Maxwell froze mid-motion, the broken pendant cradled in his hands. The heir of the Makai family, did he mean Draken?

Victoria’s face hardened, the playful spark in her eyes snuffed out. She stepped forward and, with a single, swift kick, sent Peter sprawling. “Those two ‘backers’ of yours aren’t even fit to carry my shoes,” she hissed. “Even if I cripple you tonight, they wouldn’t dare speak a word.”

Stella, pale with fear, shielded her son. “Miss, please. We…We were family once. He’s young. Foolish. Let him off, just this once.”

“Mother!” Peter spat angrily, humiliated by her plea. “Stop embarrassing me!” He glared up at Victoria with a sneer. “Go on then! Hurt me! My brother-in-law will make sure you never survive in this city!”

The crack of Maxwell’s palm meeting Peter’s cheek echoed like a gunshot. Peter reeled backward, stunned.

Maxwell’s voice was like ice. “That’s for your sister, for failing to teach you respect. You’re already rotten at your age, lying, bullying, abusing power you don’t even have. For old times’ sake, I’ll let you walk tonight. But if I ever see you again…” His gaze burned, cold and sharp. “I won’t hold back.”

He turned away, the shattered pendant pieces clutched tight, and strode toward the hotel without another glance.

Victoria followed, her heels slicing the silence behind him. Behind them, Peter shouted after him, voice cracking with impotent rage. “You useless ex-con! Don’t run! Fight me if you dare!”

But Maxwell didn’t turn. He didn’t need to.

…

Upstairs at the Grand Meridian, the city’s lights glittered like scattered jewels beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. 

Maxwell sat on the edge of the leather sofa, the shattered remains of the pendant spread carefully on a white handkerchief on the coffee table. His large, calloused hands hovered above the fragments, but for once, they felt useless.

Victoria set down two glasses of water, her earlier fire tempered into a quiet gentleness. She crouched beside the table, her crimson dress pooling like liquid silk around her.

“Let me take it,” she said softly. “I know a craftsman, an old friend of my father’s. If anyone can restore it, he can.”

Maxwell hesitated, then nodded and pushed the fragments toward her. “Thank you.”

She gathered them delicately, her fingers brushing his. “You’re angry. Not just about the pendant.”

His lips twitched in a bitter half-smile. “Anger’s easy. Disappointment…” He exhaled, looking past her at the glittering skyline. “That’s harder.”

Her chest tightened at the vulnerability in his voice. She wanted to close the distance between them, to remind him he wasn’t alone. 

But she also knew the fortress around his heart wasn’t built in a day, and wouldn’t fall in one, either. She changed the subject, her tone lighter. “You’re coming to my charity banquet, right? Don’t even think about backing out. You promised.”

Maxwell rubbed his forehead. “I said I’d try.”

She pouted, exaggerating her expression until it bordered on childish. “It’s my first time hosting something this big. I need you there, Maxwell. Even generals have to keep their promises.”

A reluctant chuckle escaped him. “Alright. I’ll be there.”

Her face lit up, a bright smile breaking through the tension. For a fleeting moment, the room felt warmer.

But downstairs, in the shadowed hotel driveway, Stella was already on the phone, her voice dripping with manufactured outrage.

“Lisa,” she said, clutching her shawl dramatically as if the memory alone pained her. “Your ex-husband… He’s shameless. Not even a day out of prison, and he’s already involved with some wealthy woman. She humiliated us, and her men assaulted your brother.”

On the other end of the line, Lisa frowned, glancing at the designer gown hanging on the wardrobe door. The banquet was less than an hour away. “Mother, are you exaggerating again?”

“I wish I were,” Stella insisted, her voice trembling just enough to sound sincere. “Your brother is on his way to the hospital. Maxwell Liang, he didn’t even deny it.”

A male voice chimed in faintly, Peter, feigning weakness. “Sis… it’s true. We’re headed to the emergency room. If you don’t believe us, come see for yourself.”

Lisa pinched the bridge of her nose, irritation warring with an inexplicable pang in her chest. “I can’t. I have a charity event tonight.”

“Oh? The one hosted by that Lin Corp heiress?” Stella’s tone turned sly. “What if your ex-husband is there, too? Flaunting his new… connection?”

Lisa didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze drifted to her desk, where the divorce papers still lay unsigned.

“Don’t let him humiliate you, Lisa,” her mother pressed. “Show him you’re stronger without him.”

The line clicked off, leaving Lisa staring at her phone. She told herself it didn’t matter. That she didn’t care. 

But the image her mother had planted, Maxwell standing beside some beautiful, powerful woman, settled like a thorn beneath her ribs.

She turned to the mirror, applying her lipstick with a steady hand. But in her reflection, her eyes betrayed the faintest tremor of doubt.

And far across the city, Maxwell Liang stared out at the glittering skyline, unaware that the next battle, the one he could least afford to lose, was already being fought in her heart.