2025-04-11 18:18:11As Mr. Webb entered, a wave of submission swept through the lounge. Every head bowed. Employees straightened their backs, hostesses folded their hands, and the music lowered as if the walls themselves knew better than to offend him.
Carl Webb owned this place. Evergreen Lounge was his kingdom, and in his eyes, only the worthy deserved to be in his presence. His gaze was sharp, his stance unwavering—a man accustomed to power, to having the world bend to his will.
Raymond’s girlfriend was enthralled.
This was the kind of power she craved—the command, the respect, the fear. But a part of her wished this was Jerry Haas instead. If Carl Webb commanded this level of submission, she could only imagine what it would be like when Jerry walked into a room.
Carl walked up to Raymond, greeting him with a firm handshake, the kind exchanged between men who knew their places in the hierarchy. But his eyes barely lingered before shifting to the unwelcome presence standing nearby.
Jackson.
Carl’s face darkened.
How had this nobody even made it past the door?
Tricia and the other hostesses stiffened. They knew Carl’s type—men who saw themselves as kings, who despised anything that reminded them of peasants and paupers. Jackson was a stain on the room, a mockery of everything Evergreen Lounge represented.
It was a shame they had let him in at all.
Carl didn’t hesitate.
He closed the distance between himself and Jackson, scanning him from head to toe as if assessing a cockroach on his pristine floor.
Then—a slap.
The second slap of the night.
Jackson’s head snapped to the side, the sharp sting echoing in the suffocating silence of the room.
A barrage of insults followed.
"Miserable fool. Polluting my establishment with your presence."
"You should be licking the floor beneath my feet."
"Who gave you the audacity to confront a VIP? To even breathe the same air as my esteemed guests?"
Carl’s voice dripped with disgust, his words slicing through the room like a blade.
Raymond’s girlfriend was ecstatic.
She laughed, clapped, practically jumped with excitement. This was power. Raw, unfiltered dominance. She loved every second of it. But she couldn't help but imagine—what if it was Jerry instead?
Jackson held his cheek but didn’t flinch.
He simply smiled.
He had done nothing wrong. His entire life, he had asked for just one thing—to be treated like a human being. Yet men like Tyler, Linda, Jonah, Raymond, and Carl always found ways to remind him that, in their eyes, he was nothing.
He swallowed the pain.
He said nothing.
He would wait for Jerry Haas to arrive and finish what he came for.
But Carl wasn’t done yet.
He saw the way Raymond’s girlfriend was looking at him—like a god. And it fueled his pride.
Why stop now?
"Crawl," Carl commanded, his voice thick with arrogance.
The room stilled.
Carl smirked, turning to the exotic woman who was practically wrapped around his arm now.
"Apologize to the lady," he ordered Jackson. "On your knees."
The woman beamed.
This? This was a real man. Someone who could demand submission and get it. She held onto Carl’s arm, forgetting Raymond entirely, waiting for the moment Jackson would bow before her.
But Jackson didn’t move.
He didn’t even blink.
He simply scoffed.
Carl’s smirk disappeared.
This wasn’t just defiance—it was an insult.
His face twisted with rage. "Get him on the ground," he barked at the security team.
Immediately, the head of security and his men seized Jackson, their grips tight and unforgiving. They were just about to force him down when—
DING.
The elevator opened.
And everything stopped.
The music cut out. Conversations died mid-sentence. Glasses were placed down carefully.
A collective chill ran through the room.
Carl’s heart skipped.
He already knew.
Only one man could command this kind of silence.
Jerry Haas.
Jerry rushed out of the elevator, which was unusual, as he always walked majestically. His move this time could only mean one thing to everyone who saw him—there was trouble.
Jerry Haas is the head of management at Sky Tower; he was two hundred million dollars shy from a billionaire. He was powerful and highly connected, especially since everyone knows he worked for the subordinate of the owner of Sky Tower.
Also, he was highly respected by everyone.
Carl’s face tightened. He quickly signaled the security to keep things quiet. If Mr. Haas saw this mess, he’d be humiliated. Worse—he could lose everything.
The woman’s grip on Carl loosened.
Her eyes widened as she adjusted herself, hoping to look as irresistible as possible. This was her moment.
But Jerry wasn’t looking at her.
He wasn’t looking at Carl.
He was looking at Jackson.
Then, to the horror of everyone in the room—
He bowed.
A full 90-degree bow.
"Mr. Hart, I am deeply sorry for my lateness. Please forgive your humble servant!"
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Chapter 668: The Queen's True Origin!
They sat on the debris-strewn floor of the mill, the four of them—Jason, Sophia, Jackson, and Jacqueline. The morning light filtered through the broken roof, casting pale patterns on the stone.Sophia spoke first. "I told them everything. About the diner. About the prophecy. About the Wardens."Jason nodded. "I expected as much."Jackson leaned forward. "You've been protecting my family for years. You've been watching us from the shadows. Why didn't you just tell us? Why all the secrecy?""Because the Wardens are sworn to secrecy," Jason said. "We protect the Harts without recognition, without thanks, without memorial. That is our oath. That is our purpose. If we revealed ourselves, if we became known, we would become vulnerable. The Queen would target us. And then who would protect you?"Jacqueline studied him with her sharp eyes. "And Sophia? Why did you lie to her?"Jason looked at Sophia—at her tired eyes, her guarded expression, the walls she had built around her heart."I lied t
Chapter 667: The Recollection!
Five years ago.Jason had been assigned to protect Sophia for eight years at that point. She had been a teenager when he first arrived—grieving, angry, lost. Her mother's death had left a wound that seemed impossible to heal, and Sophia had tried to heal it all by herself.Jason had followed her to that small town, had taken up residence in the crumbling apartment next door, had become the handyman who fixed her leaky faucets and repaired her broken windows. He had been her quiet presence in the background, the one who never asked questions, who never pushed, who simply was there.And in the process, he had watched her grow.He had seen her transform from a grieving teenager into a young woman—fierce, stubborn, brilliant. He had listened to her talk about her dreams late at night, when the loneliness became too much to bear. He had watched her laugh for the first time in months, had felt his heart clench at the sound. He had fallen in love with her. Quietly. Silently. Irrevocably.He
Chapter 666: The Divide Among Wardens!
The basement of St. Michael's Church was colder than usual.Jason stood before the assembly, his report delivered, his plea for patience hanging in the air like smoke. The candles flickered, casting dancing shadows across the faces of the twenty-seven Wardens who sat in judgment.The silence stretched.Then the debate began."She is compromised," said a Warden named Harrison—a broad-shouldered man with a gray beard and eyes like flint. "Not by the Queen. Not by the Devourers. By you, Jason. Your feelings for her have clouded your judgment."Jason's jaw tightened. "My feelings are not relevant.""Everything about you is relevant," Harrison shot back. "You were recalled from your assignment years ago precisely because the council feared you were becoming too attached. We saw it then. We see it now."A murmur of agreement rippled through the assembly.Jason stood his ground. "I was recalled because the council believed I was compromised. I was not. I have never allowed my personal feelin
Chapter 665: The Morning After!
The first pale light of dawn crept through the nursery curtains, painting silver stripes across the floor.Sophia hadn't moved from her spot beside the crib. Her back ached from sitting against the wall, her eyes burned from crying, and her throat was raw from the silent screams that had woken her. But she didn't care. She had watched the twins breathe through the night—every rise and fall of their tiny chests, every small sound, every shift in their sleep.They were alive. They were safe. They were still here.And she would keep them that way.She heard footsteps in the hallway—soft, careful, the footsteps of someone who didn't want to wake the house. The nursery door creaked open, and Bella stepped inside.She was wearing her nightgown, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, her face still soft with sleep. She had come to check on the twins, as she did every morning, as she had done since the day they were born.She stopped when she saw Sophia."Sophia?" Bella's voice was a whis
Chapter 664: The Nightmare!
Sophia parked her car in the circular drive, her hands still trembling on the steering wheel. The house was lit up—warm light spilling from every window.She sat for a long moment, staring at the front door.You can still leave, a voice whispered in her mind. You can still drive away. You don't have to do this.But she couldn't. She had nowhere else to go. And the weight of the prophecy—the weight of Jason's words—pressed down on her chest like a stone.She got out of the car.***Ruth stood in the doorway, her arms open, her face a mixture of relief and worry. "Sophia," Ruth said, her voice warm. "You're back. I didn't know you had left, but—""I need to be alone."Sophia's voice was flat, emotionless. She walked past Ruth, through the grand foyer, past the portraits of ancestors who stared down at her with judgmental eyes. She didn't stop. Didn't pause. Didn't look back.Ruth's arms dropped to her sides. "Sophia—""I need to be alone," Sophia repeated. And then she was gone, climbi
Chapter 663: The Assembly of Wardens!
Jason stood in the empty parking lot of the Rusty Spoon, watching Sophia's taillights disappear into the gathering dusk.The cold wind cut through his jacket, but he barely felt it. His mind was still in the diner—still replaying her words, her tears, the way she had pushed the parchment away as if it might burn her.I didn't ask for this. I don't want this. I just want to live my life.He closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath.I know. But the war doesn't care what we want.He walked to his truck—an old, battered thing that had seen better decades—and climbed in. The engine coughed to life, and he pulled out of the parking lot, heading not toward the estate, but away from it.The Wardens were waiting.***The church was hidden in plain sight.On the outskirts of the city, where the suburbs gave way to farmland, stood a small, rundown building with a sagging roof and a steeple that leaned slightly to the left. The sign out front read "St. Michael's Community Church" in faded
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