Home / Urban / Supreme Legacy: Rise and Revenge / Chapter 5: Daisy’s Dilemma
Chapter 5: Daisy’s Dilemma
Author: Lily Monroe
last update2025-10-12 00:58:54

“Idiot—you’re begging to die.” Murder flared in Felix Irving’s eyes as he stared at Adrian Doyle. His own life was in ruins; no matter the cost, Adrian had to die.

“Madman.” Daisy’s voice was cool but tight with urgency.

The alcohol had burned off. She was once again the aloof woman no one dared approach—except her chest rose and fell a little too fast, worry betraying her.

“Mr. Jefferson is the mafia’s golden enforcer,” Felix sneered. “If he doesn’t kill you, he’ll cripple you. Since you love showing off, Adrian Doyle, go die for it.”

If Adrian had stayed in the car and called the police, he might have had a sliver of a chance. But the fool had stepped out, all to look brave for Daisy.

The thought buoyed Felix. A feverish gleam lit his eyes. He could hardly wait to watch Adrian beaten to death.

“Adrian!” Daisy couldn’t watch him walk into slaughter. “Get back in the car. I’ll shield you—they won’t dare touch me.”

“Relax.” Adrian rolled his right shoulder. The debt of a broken arm would be repaid—with interest—tonight.

Felix snorted. “Still bragging at a time like this. You really do have a death wish.”

“Ten seconds to drop all four of us?” Mr. Jefferson barked a laugh. “Last time I cracked your arm. Today I’ll break all four limbs and make you crawl like a dog.”

He’d spent over a decade licking blood from knives; to him, crushing Adrian was no different from crushing an ant.

He didn’t waste words. One chop of his hand, and the four men lunged in unison.

Pipes and blades came whistling toward Adrian.

Daisy blanched and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Finish him!” Felix’s gaze burned, rapt with anticipation.

Adrian moved—swinging his right arm, still wrapped in plaster.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Clashes rang out in a rapid volley.

Mr. Jefferson froze, stunned.

The pipe in his grip had snapped; pain blew up his forearm. His men’s weapons were also shattered. Adrian stood where he’d been—untouched.

“How… how the hell did you do that?” Mr. Jefferson blurted, shaken to the core.

“Tonight you get to taste a broken arm,” Adrian said—and blurred.

Crack. Crack.

Bones popped like dry twigs. Mr. Jefferson’s right arm was wrenched out of use; the other three suffered the same fate.

Screams tore the air.

The four brutes writhed on the asphalt, howling, shards of white bone jutting into the night.

Silence fell over the lot—unnatural, ringing.

What had just happened? Not ten seconds—barely five—and Mr. Jefferson’s crew lay ruined at Adrian’s feet.

“Impossible,” Felix croaked, eyes bulging.

“Your turn.” A cool smile touched Adrian’s mouth. He looked at Felix. “Kneel. Knock your head. Apologize.”

Felix’s eye twitched. “Don’t push me too far, Adrian.”

“Too far?” Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “When you crowned me with horns, did you think of today? When you boxed me out at work, did you think of today? When you paid to have my arm smashed, did you think of today?”

“I…” Felix’s throat closed. Adrian wasn’t the malleable pawn he’d once toyed with. Not anymore.

Clarity came in a cold rush: Adrian had just broken four men’s arms. Killing Felix would be easy.

Felix’s knees gave. He dropped, babbling, “Mr. Doyle, I was wrong. Don’t hit me.”

Thud. Adrian answered with a kick.

This time he didn’t hold back.

Felix sailed across the pavement. His organs churned; ribs snapped; blood slicked his lips.

Adrian didn’t spare him another glance. He slid into the car and started the engine.

“Your right arm’s fine? And you fight like that, yet you let me worry for nothing.” The voice beside him was haughty, cool.

Adrian only smiled.

“Garden Villas. And hand me my phone from the passenger side.” Daisy’s tone was imperious.

“Am I your chauffeur? The word please wouldn’t kill you.”

She folded her arms. “Please bring me my phone from the passenger side.”

Adrian: “…”

At last they pulled up to the house.

“Young miss, you’re back.” The butler hurried out. Perhaps it was his imagination, but her legs seemed to tremble.

When he saw Adrian step out from the driver’s seat, his eyes widened. “And this is…?”

“A hired driver,” Daisy said—too quickly. She flicked a look at Adrian. “You can go.”

Then she glided toward the villa.

The butler watched her gait, then glanced at Adrian, something curious in his eyes.

Inside, Daisy found Cameron Hill smoking, a clouded brow carved into his face.

“You’re home,” he said, crushing the cigarette and heaving to his feet, guilt raw in his voice. “What happened today… that’s on me. I misjudged him. I failed you.”

Daisy’s expression flickered. Her stern father, apologizing? Shame pinched her. Giving herself to Adrian to spite her father suddenly felt childish.

“Daisy,” Cameron said after a pause, “someone from the Sanders family came by.”

“What?” Color drained from her face. “What did they want?”

Russell Sanders had long coveted Daisy’s beauty, pressuring and bribing the Hill family for her hand. She’d rushed the wedding to Felix in part to cut Russell off. Clearly, word of the debacle had reached him.

Cameron gave a bitter smile and tossed an invitation on the table. “Three o’clock tomorrow. Their company. Odds are they’ll try to force you to marry Russell.”

“I won’t.” The thought of marrying someone ten times filthier than Felix made her stomach knot.

Cameron sighed. “Marcus Sanders—Russell’s uncle—is brother to the wife of Skyline City’s richest man, Hunter Logan. With Hunter gravely ill, Marcus is using Logan Group to squeeze us. We have no leverage. Unless…”

“Unless what?” Daisy asked, breath caught.

“Unless we find a man to pose as your husband—or fiancé—and stall them for time. If Hunter recovers, we won’t have to bow to the Sanders family anymore.”

“I heard Hunter’s terminally ill… can he really recover? And even if he can, where do we find the right man to play my husband on such short notice?” As she spoke, Adrian’s face, unbidden, rose in her mind.

“You’re right—the choice won’t be easy,” Cameron said. “I’ve arranged for a few acceptable candidates to pretend to be your fiancé. They’ll come by tomorrow morning. You can pick the best—Daisy? Daisy!”

“Hm?”

“You drifted off. Do you have someone better in mind?” He held her gaze, searching.

She looked away, flustered.

She had been about to suggest Adrian—but checked herself. He was a junior employee, a tool she’d used in a moment of fury. And she wasn’t ready to expose what had happened between them.

So she shook her head. “No. I’ll go with your plan.”

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