From Prison To Power

Chapter 006 – Glenn’s Vow

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Irene remained seated on the bed in silence, her body stiff, her gaze fixed blankly ahead.

Even after Glenn had finished recounting the entire night’s events in detail, she sat there like a statue carved from confusion and disbelief.

His bold words, dripping in shameless self-praise, barely registered in her ears. She didn’t even flinch at his ego-fueled declarations. Instead, her mind spun in a turbulent whirlwind of shock, piecing together every word, every clue, every hazy memory.

‘Drugged? Me?’

‘How?’

Her heart continued to pound against her chest with increasing intensity.

Her eyebrows furrowed so tightly that they seemed stitched together, and the beginnings of a deep crease burrowed into her forehead.

‘Who could’ve done that? Why would anyone go that far?’ Her thoughts scattered like shattered glass, impossible to gather.

‘I didn’t even eat anything strange… I never touch food from—‘

She suddenly froze, something seeming to click in.

In the next second, Irene’s eyes widened, and then her lips parted slightly as a wave of horror washed over her, draining the color from her face.

She looked like she’d been struck by a mental lightning bolt.

“If I remember correctly…” she muttered to herself, her voice dry and low, her throat tightening. “Right after I drank that wine… the one James had handed to me… my body started feeling… off. Like it didn’t even belong to me anymore.”

She swallowed hard, her pulse thudding like war drums in her ears.

Her mind went back to the one who had smiled so warmly at her the previous day, pouring the wine also for himself and toasting with her.

Her breathing faltered as though her lungs had forgotten how to function.

She instinctively wanted to deny it, to shake it off, to tell herself she was overthinking.

……

While Irene continued grappling with the tidal wave of realization, Glenn, completely oblivious to her mental collapse, stood in front of the mirror, putting on his drab, over-worn prison clothes with the confidence of a man donning a tailored Armani suit.

He admired his reflection with a proud nod, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulders.

Meanwhile, Irene remained curled in the duvet on the bed, her thoughts spiraling, her form unmoving.

To Glenn, she looked like someone who had just found out that she had just lost her entire life savings in a scam—plus the family estate, car, and dog.

“What’s she mumbling about now?” Glenn wondered to himself upon hearing her mutter, glancing sideways at her with mild curiosity.

He had no clue what existential crisis was unfolding in Irene’s head. Instead, he assumed it still had to do with what had happened between them.

Eventually, the silence became too heavy—even for him.

So, with a casual stretch and an expression of utter seriousness, Glenn dropped a bombshell, trying to cheer her up.

“You do realize that sharing a bed with me is the kind of thing most women only get to dream about, right?”

His words hit the air like a car crash.

Irene, who was still lost in the shock of her recent realization, blinked slowly, her eyes twitching.

But before she could think of a response…

“You don’t have to act like your life is over,” he added, showing a serious concern. “I mean, I’m not just any man, after all. I’m me.”

‘Huh?’

Irene’s jaw dropped to the ground.

But before she could think of a response, Glenn let out a long, theatrical sigh, placing a hand dramatically on his chest as though he were about to make a vow of eternal loyalty.

“And since I’ve taken your… first time—even though what I did was nothing but a heroic act purely to save your life,” he said, his voice low and brimming with a seriousness that couldn’t be feigned, “I’ve made a bold, noble decision. I’ll take responsibility for you.”

Irene: “…”

She stared blankly at Glenn. Once. Twice. As if trying to figure out whether this man was for real—or just the best actor the universe had to offer, trying to make her feel less bad.

She had originally wanted to clear the misunderstanding of Glenn assuming her silence and heavy mood were her being affected by what had happened between them.

She had wanted to tell him not to overthink it. That they both had been victims of circumstance.

But now?

Watching him stand there, half-proud, half-saintly, like some righteous hero descending from heaven in crusty pants and a torn shirt, she had no idea how to react.

Ultimately, Irene’s eyes dropped subconsciously, scanning Glenn from head to toe.

His outfit was a disaster. Something not even her family’s maids would use to clean the floors. And here he was… talking about taking responsibility for her?

She wasn’t the type to look down on anyone, and whether below or above her, she treated everyone the same, with respect and humane feeling.

But Glenn…

Her lips couldn’t help but curve into a scornful smirk. She didn’t need to speak. Her eyes said everything: Who the hell do you think you are?

Glenn noticed the look.

But instead of shrinking, he chuckled softly, as if he’d just heard a joke she didn’t understand.

“Don’t be so quick to judge a book by its tattered, ruggedly handsome cover,” he said with a wink. “Beneath this exterior lies a legend.”

Irene felt her brain cells withering.

Glenn leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as if about to reveal a government secret.

“Not to brag,” he whispered, “but I’m actually the strongest man you’ll ever meet. Both spiritually, mentally, and physically. I’m basically a walking miracle.”

Irene blinked again.

‘Was he… for real?’

She couldn’t respond, further stunned into silence.

She had no idea whether to call him delusional or just very committed to being absurd.

Glenn, on the other hand, stared at her like a prophet awaiting applause. But when none came, he frowned slightly.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked, incredulous.

The look of disdain on her face was answer enough.

He chuckled, undeterred. “Ah… I see. You must be unfamiliar with my background, which is understandable. So I’ll forgive your ignorance.”

With this, Irene officially ran out of facial expressions.

Should she laugh? Should she cry? Should she clap?

Finally, however, she heaved a deep sigh.

“I’ve met all sorts of arrogant and conceited young masters in my life,” she said slowly, sounding like a teacher scolding a slow student. “But for someone who looks like he just crawled out of a recycling bin, you sure have a lot of nerve.”

She stood gracefully, tightening the duvet around herself like armor. Then her expression shifted—cool, calculating. She had a score to settle.

She decided to get dressed and leave.

But before she could act—

A voice rang out from the hallway, dripping with rage and malevolence.

“Are you absolutely certain she came into this room?!”

Glenn didn’t flinch.

Irene, however, froze, her eyes suddenly widening in alarm, her breath catching.

But before she could speak—

Bang!

The door slammed open with enough force to shake the walls.

Following this, a young man looking to be in his early thirties stormed in like a madman wearing a fashion label.

His designer clothes were immaculate, but his face was twisted in fury. Behind him followed four muscular bodyguards exuding menace like cologne.

“What’s up with this culture of barging into people’s rooms uninvited like this?” Glenn muttered to himself, deadpan.

With this, he turned to the furious newcomer, about to tell him he had entered the wrong room—but the man’s expression stopped him cold.

“So—it’s true!”

The young man’s voice suddenly cracked with fury, his trembling finger aimed squarely at Irene.

His face was contorted with disbelief, heartbreak, and pure, unfiltered rage.

Glenn blinked.

“Wait—what’s this about?”

“YOU BASTARD!” the man shrieked suddenly, turning his fury toward Glenn like a missile locking onto its target.

His eyes were bloodshot, his teeth clenched like he was moments from snapping.

“How DARE you, you filthy peasant! Touch her?!”

“You—you think you can defile my woman and live?! You are dead meat today! I shall make sure to bury your entire bloodline with you!”

His voice was venomous—deranged, even, echoing like thunder before the storm.

With his sanity leaving the chat, the young man waved to his guards with manic fury.

“What are you fools still staring at?! Break him already! Snap his bones—one by one! I want him begging for mercy!”

The guards instantly stepped forward, each radiating a pressure that distorted the air.