2025-09-01 22:08:16"More like you brought that upon yourself." Ethan reasoned calmly, his expression unreadable.
Jennifer puffed with anger, her mind spiraling in rage. "You are not just useless but also lack proper manners? Were you raised in the gutters?" She fumed, cursed, and scowled, still clutching her aching face.
"That's enough!" Emma stepped in quickly. Her stance was strong; her words were obeyed even by the swaying winds.
"Ethan saved our necks; we should be grateful."
She ended the words with an abrupt pause. No room, no cracks for Jennifer to chip in a pin.
Her face burned like that of a red oven. A bitter sensation rose through her throat as she glanced at Ethan. Cold, venomous, dripping with excessive coldness.
A car zoomed off, blending into the speed of the wind. Also brushing the clothes of Jennifer.
"Bitches!" She cursed under her huffed breath. Her anger fumbled into her trembling fingers.
But a letter has dropped. The contemporaneity is drawing a still calm. It felt urgent. The air is thick and heavy.
The temperature rose with the sudden wave of tension, piercing against their skin as they tried to shake it off. A futile attempt.
With a steady hand, Emma peeled off the seal.
"Brace yourself for War." The caption was bold and red. Flashing with everything that spoke of danger.
"It's human blood." Jennifer panicked. Sweat dripped down her face.
Realization hits Emma deeply. Indeed, it was human blood. It was a bold warning, a sign of a bloodbath; her heart rocked harder against her heart. Each beat rising with intensity.
"From the gangsters of the city!" The letter dropped from her hands.
The little tussle. It had burnt her peace like a wide fire. She had a company to rescue from the clutches of falling. A fight with the gang of the city was definitely not a welcome development.
"He caused it!" Jennifer had finally gotten enough room to speak. Her hands pointed at Ethan, her cold gaze embedded with disgust.
"He attacked Locust without even thinking. Now we are all going to pay for it?" She scowled.
"If you ask me, I think we should fold him up, tie him, and hand him over to Locust. Maybe that might appease him." Jennifer proposed. Emma cocked a brow.
"How quickly do you forget that he's still my husband?" Her brows grew wider.
"We will find a way to deal with it... I will get in contact..." Ethan's sharp tone interrupted her words; Jennifer flashed with disdain.
"The issue will be sorted. Don't bother!" He ended, Ethan's sense of authority drawing the breath off from their lungs.
Even the wind drew silent at the solemnness of his words. Jennifer and Emma stared in utter disbelief.
"What?" Jennifer was the first to speak. Her words were filled with spite, hate, and rage.
"Do you think you can solve every issue by throwing a handful of fists?" She thundered.
"Do you think Locust is a man that can even be reasoned with?" She glared harder.
"Or do you think that you're what? The president of the city who can order everyone around like kids?" She flared even more.
Ethan said nothing. If only she knew that he indeed was A.M.E.N. The man in whose presence the president trembled.
The Gods of War quaked.
The mayor folded like lily-livered rats in the dark corners.
Taking care of a set of stray mutts was nothing more than an unnecessary disturbance.
"Do you trust me?" Ethan side-stepped Jennifer's ranting, only paying attention to the one that mattered to them.
Jennifer's heart sank deep into the bottom of her disdain. A bitter sensation rises through her throat. Her hate was bottling in her throat.
"I'm going to make you pay for this. And make Emma see how worthless a fool you are!" She swore under her breath.
Emma nodded, slow, reassuring, and calm. He saved her once already; giving him a little bit of trust was not enough to pay for his kindness.
They got into the car. The evening sun glowed gently on Emma's skin with grace as she gazed into the window, heart heavy with thoughts.
She sighed multiple times. Taking a look at the young man at the other end of the car. The man that fate had brought her to. Suddenly. Chaotic.
She didn't know what to make of it. But staring at him brought a strange sense of calm to her heart.
Emma has. Her interest piqued, her breath unsteady. The way Ethan stared with a grave sense of reassurance.
The way he spoke with a suppressive aura made everyone in the room stand in still silence.
The way his expression remained so calm. Even at the heart of the storm. Like he was hiding secrets, deep secrets that could candle a whole continent.
None of these personalities, everyone of whom seemed to have been drawn from a dreaded monarch, fits into that innocent, over-pampered look and such plain dressing.
Who was he? A hidden millionaire. One of the Gods of War. Maybe a lost heir?
If there was anything she was certain of, she wanted to know more. It was dangerous, but how much was it going to hurt to play with fire a little bit?
The car came to a stop. A sign that they had finally gotten to the Robbins Family Villa They came down together.
Emma's gaze collected. The mansion stared down in utter splendor. Rising high and disappearing into the broad sky.
The fountains poured with grace. Every branch of the flower is trimmed with so much care and precision. It was breathtaking, a sight that was worth lingering on.
It mocked the whole of Ethan's existence.
His looks even with the forty grand clothes. It didn't match the statues of this building. The sport cars—everyone shot glances at Ethan from behind.
He could feel it like a blazing stab from behind but he remained unfazed.
"Shall we proceed?" He said, stretching his hand to his newly wedded wife.
Emma took his hands without words. Jennifer scowled in utter disgust and disdain.
"Hey, Emma!" Someone called from behind.
"Did you get us a servant for the meeting? Isn't that thoughtful of you!" A young man stepped forward and greeted with a smile.
"But why are you holding hands with him!" He looked somewhat surprised. The grim look on his face begs for an answer to this question.
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Chapter 239: When monsters are free to roam
Chloe stood frozen for a second in the doorway, the dam of her own pride and anger finally shattered by the night's violence. She had thought she was strong enough to handle issues as an adult. But how wrong she was. If Ethan hadn't shown up, she wouldn't have known what her fate would be by now.A sob, harsh and involuntary, ripped from her throat. She didn't step forward; instead she fell forward, collapsing into her mother’s space.Margaret’s book thudded softly to the carpet. Her arms, which hadn't held her daughter in two decades, came up instinctively, catching her, wrapping around the trembling form.And then, it all poured out. The tears were not gentle; they were a storm, hot and desperate against Margaret’s silk robe. The words were muffled, broken by gasps. "I'm sorry, Mother," Chloe sobbed, her fingers clutching at the fabric. "I was so angry with you. For leaving me behind. For twenty years. I hated you for it."She shook her head violently, burrowing closer as if she c
Chapter 238: The Glided Cage
Later that night, in a part of the city untouched by Robbins family drama, Chloe was a whirlwind of desperate motion in the center of the dance floor in one of the popular night clubs in the city—'the glided cage' as it was called.She wasn’t dancing for joy; she was trying to outrun the ghosts in her head—the mother who’d returned a stranger, the suffocating mansion, the weight of a name that felt like a cage. Jazz and rock fought for dominance in the smoky air, a chaotic soundtrack to her internal storm. She moved like a wounded animal, all frantic energy and no grace, the sharp, sweet smell of expensive gin clinging to her like a second skin.She was barely conscious of the man who sidled up to her, his smile all practiced charm. He matched her movements, said something lost to the music. In her blurred, self-destructive state, he was just another blur, a warm body offering an escape from the thoughts. Numbly, she let him lead her off the floor, up a dimly lit staircase that prom
Chapter 237: A word of gratitude
The drive home was a blur of manicured suburbs and churning thoughts. Jennifer’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, her mind replaying the day’s horrors and oddities on a loop: Emma’s fragile pallor, the wrongness in "Ethan's" eyes, Rose's hissed conversation about "Frank" and "plans." By the time she pulled into the driveway of her mother’s cozy, sensible bungalow—the home she’d moved back into to save money—the anxiety had condensed into a hard, urgent knot in her chest.She found her mother, Helen, in the kitchen, the familiar, comforting scent of rosemary chicken in the oven doing little to soothe her.“Mom,” Jennifer said, her voice sounding strained even to her own ears.Helen turned, her warm, careworn face shifting from welcome to immediate concern. “Jenny? What’s wrong? How is Emma?”That was all it took. The dam broke. Jennifer slumped into a kitchen chair, the words tumbling out in a rushed, hushed torrent. She described seeing Emma—the relief, the worry. Then she
Chapter 236: Something's off
Jennifer stayed a while longer, making quiet, comforting small talk until she saw Emma’s eyelids grow heavy. She tucked the blanket around her, promised to check in tomorrow, and slipped out of the room, closing the door with a soft click.The relief of seeing Emma alive warred with a churning sense of dread in her stomach. The mansion’s usual comforting silence now felt oppressive, every shadow holding a secret. Distracted by her thoughts, she took a wrong turn at the end of the corridor, veering away from the grand staircase and into the less familiar west wing.She realized her mistake when the carpet pattern changed and the portraits on the walls became sterner, older Robbins ancestors. She was about to turn back when a sharp, tense voice sliced through the quiet from a half-open door down the hall.“…don’t care what you think, Frank. The timing is too convenient.”Jennifer froze. It was Rose Robbins’ voice, stripped of its usual theatrical warmth, sharp with frustration and somet
Chapter 235: The imposter
Jennifer stood on the gravel drive for a moment longer, the seed of doubt now a cold, sprouting vine in her chest. The press continued to clamor, but their noise faded into a dull roar as she focused on the closed mansion door. That blank look in his eyes, the seamless, theatrical recovery… no one she knew that well could forget her face entirely, even under extreme stress. A skilled actor could.Steeling herself, she approached the main entrance. The butler, recognizing her, opened the door with a solemn nod, ushering her into the cool, hushed grandeur of the foyer.The air inside was thick with a strange, tense stillness, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. In the main living room, she saw Elizabeth Robbins standing by the fireplace, her posture rigid with a relief that looked almost painful. Beside her was an elegant, unfamiliar woman with sharp, assessing eyes—Margaret, though Jennifer didn’t know that yet.“Jennifer,” Elizabeth said, her voice soft and drained. She offered a
Chapter 234: The cracked mask
The news of Emma Robbins' return broke like a sonic boom across the city. By morning, it was the singular topic on every news outlet, a frantic churn of speculation with depressingly little fact. The lack of official details—no police statement, no family press conference—created a vacuum that gossip and sensationalism rushed to fill.By mid-afternoon, a small but determined pack of journalists and camera crews had gathered at the wrought-iron gates of the Robbins estate, their voices a buzzing, insistent hum. Microphones were thrust toward the intercom. Demands were shouted."What can you tell us about Emma's condition?""Was a ransom paid?""Who was responsible?""Mrs. Robbins! Can you give us a statement?"Inside, the family watched the growing spectacle on security monitors with a mix of exhaustion and dread. The private nightmare was now public property."It has to be addressed," Margaret said, her tone clinical. "Controlled disclosure is better than rampant speculation."Nathan
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