THE RETURN OF THE RED BUTCHER

6

Caleb should have stepped aside when he saw Simon’s eyes change.

But Caleb had lived too long behind Robertson money to understand danger. He looked at Simon up and down and curled his lips in disgust.

“Look at you,” Caleb said. “A dirty fish seller still acting like he has pride. Do you know how long we have waited to remove you from this family?”

Simon said nothing.

Caleb continued, louder now because everyone was watching. “You were a stain on our name. A mistake Father made before he died. Isabella deserves always deserved a man like Romeo, not a useless parasite who smells like rotten fish.”

“Move,” Simon said.

Caleb laughed. “Or what? You will cry? You will run back to your little stall and complain to your fish?”

Simon’s forehead smashed into Caleb’s face.

The sound was hard and sudden.

Caleb stumbled backward, his eyes rolling for a second before he fell against the wall and dropped to the floor. Blood ran from the split on his forehead, down the side of his nose.

Fiona screamed.

“Caleb!”

Irene jumped up from the sofa. Isabella froze with the divorce papers in her hand. Uncle James stood so quickly his phone slipped from his lap.

“What have you done?” James shouted. “You animal! You attacked a Robertson in his own house?”

Simon looked at Caleb on the floor. “He should have moved.”

Fiona rushed to her son and held his face. “Caleb, look at me. My son, say something.”

Caleb groaned, but his eyes were unfocused.

Fiona turned on Simon, shaking with rage. “You wicked dog. You came into my house to kill my son?”

“I came here because Isabella lied that something was wrong with the child,” Simon said.

Romeo rose slowly and buttoned his suit jacket. He looked at Isabella, then at Fiona, as if this was his chance to prove something.

“That is enough, Simon,” Romeo said. “You have embarrassed yourself enough today.”

Simon turned his head slightly. “Sit down.”

Romeo’s face hardened. “You do not give me orders.”

“I said sit down.”

Romeo walked toward him. “You may scare these people with your street madness, but you do not scare me. Men like you only understand force and if you think that you can display your madness his, I have no choice but to teach you a bitter lesson.”

He reached for Simon’s shoulder hoping to grab him and beat him up.

Simon slapped him.

It was not a wide slap. It was short, clean, and brutal. Romeo flew backward and crashed near the sofa, knocking over a small glass table. Irene screamed again. The sound of broken glass spread across the room.

Romeo lay there blinking, one hand on his cheek, completely shocked.

For the first time, no one spoke.

Fear entered the room quietly.

Fiona held Caleb tighter, but her voice still came out sharp. “Bodyguards! I will call every guard in this estate. They will beat you until your bones forget your name.”

Uncle James picked up his phone. “No. This is now a police matter. He assaulted two members of this household.”

“Uncle, don’t,” Isabella said quickly.

James frowned. “Isabella, he attacked your brother.”

“I said don’t,” she snapped. “I don’t want police here. I don’t want scandal. I don’t want violence spreading through this house.”

Fiona looked at her in disbelief. “Your brother is bleeding.”

“And Simon is leaving,” Isabella said. “That is all I want.”

Simon looked at her.

Her words were calm, but they carried no love. No regret. No pain. She only wanted him gone.

Isabella picked up the file and pushed it toward him again. “Take the money and leave. I do not ever want to see you again.”

That sentence entered him like an arrow.

Simon swallowed. It felt like the largest lump of pain he had ever forced down his throat. He had survived bullets, blades, burning cities, and men who died cursing his name. None of it had prepared him for the woman he loved looking at him as if he was something rotten.

“I don’t want your money,” he said.

Fiona spat at the floor near his feet. “Money? After what you did to my son? The only way you leave here with anything is over my dead body.”

Isabella’s eyes stayed cold. “Fine. Then he leaves with nothing.”

Simon gave a slow nod.

Not because he agreed.

But because he finally understood.

There was nothing left in that room for him. Not love. Not respect. Not even memory.

He turned and walked out.

Behind him, Fiona was still cursing. Irene was helping Romeo sit up. Caleb groaned weakly on the floor. Uncle James kept muttering about disgrace and lawsuits.

Simon did not look back.

As he stepped into the hallway, Isabella took out her phone and called the chief security officer of the estate. Her voice followed him like a final knife.

“Mr. Dane,” she said. “Listen carefully. Simon Gallagher is no longer welcome at Robertson Estate. He is not to enter this property again. He is not to enter any Robertson-owned building, office, warehouse, or land. If he comes near us, stop him at the gate.”

Simon kept walking.

The guards were already gathering near the entrance. Two large men followed him from a distance. Another stood by the door with his hands crossed. Their eyes carried the same message.

You have been thrown away.

Simon walked through the mansion doors and into the cold evening. The same driveway he had crossed in fear for Isabella now felt longer than a battlefield. Servants watched from corners. Gardeners stopped working. No one spoke loudly, but he heard the whispers.

“He is a finished man.”

“They finally chased him out.”

“Good. He never belonged here.”

Simon’s chest burned.

He had come to this house thinking his wife or unborn child was in danger. Instead, he had learned the child was not his, his marriage was dead, and the family he protected now saw him as the disease they needed to cut away.

The guards followed him until he reached the black gate. One of them opened it without meeting his eyes.

“Leave,” the guard said.

Simon stepped outside.

The gate shut behind him with a heavy metallic sound.

For a moment, he stood alone on the roadside. Cars moved past. The city continued as if his world had not just been torn apart.

Then his phone rang.

Simon looked down.

It was Bako, the seller whose stall stood opposite his own.

Simon answered slowly. “Bako?”

“Simon!” Bako’s voice was shaking. “Where are you?”

“What happened?”

“Your stall is burning!” Bako shouted. “The whole place is on fire!”

Simon’s blood went cold.

Bako screamed over the noise behind him. “And your boys... your boys are trapped inside the stall, their lives are in great danger!”