THE RETURN Of the LEGENDARY KING of WAR

002: Sign The Divorce Papers!

Andrew's fists clenched at his sides, fury simmering just beneath the surface. But he stops, remembering why he's here. Why he's a lived in son in-law.

He shifts his gaze back to Burke, standing there like an artist basking in stolen moments as he enjoys Lizzy's admiration.

Lizzy's adoration is so easy, triggered by the smallest gestures. “So easily swayed by crumbs,” Andrew thinks. But wait, if she reacts like this to Burke's lies, what would she do if she knew the—

“Hey!” Lizzy's voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him back to reality. She lowers her tone, so Burke couldn't hear but the contempt remains thick in her words as she continually berates him.

“I'll be heading to the Cooperation with Mr Burke. No need for you to take me,” she says, adjusting her purse with exaggerated grace. “Go home. The laundry won't do itself after all, and I expect dinner ready when I return.”

She pauses, narrowing her eyes. “Honestly, after three years of freeloading under our roof, the least you can do is earn your keep. We're short on staff, not charity. Prove you're worth something —at least.”

Andrew nods with no resistance. After all, he's used to the housework by now. He sees how hard Lizzy is struggling, and he only wants to make her life easier.

“It's alright, my love,” he says gently. “I'll make your favorite tonight. Just… don't stay out late, okay? I love you,” he confesses.

Lizzy doesn't reply with words. Instead, she raises her slender finger, taps it mockingly against his forehead, and then, her beautiful lips curls into a smirk.

“Yeah… but you can take that love and shove it up your butt! And who the fuck is your love? Don't you dare call me that!” Lizzy rebukes harshly.

Burke, his tone feingning calm but edged with impatience, asks, “I thought you were just going to dismiss the delivery guy?”

Lizzy doesn't notice the slitter of harshness to his tone. Her focus is still on Andrew.

When Lizzy heard that, she smiles, a sweet almost tender curve of her lips that hits Andrew like a dagger. That smile—it was supposed to be his. The one he had waited for, aching for, patiently. But instead, it's given so easily to Burke.

Does he repulse her that much now? Is his presence so beneath her now that even a simple smile is too much to give?

Andrew's chest tightens. For three years, he had dreamed of that smile being his. A smile warm and genuine, meant only for him.

But instead, all he ever gets is cold glares and bitter commands. No warmth, or softness. Only distance.

“How did we get here?” He thinks, his heart sinking beneath the weight of her indifference. He loves her too much to leave, so he makes a mental note to ask what he can do to revive their marriage, when she returns.

Without a word, Lizzy turns and walks towards Burke. “I'm sorry,” she apologizes, the sneer in her voice seconds ago visnishes, and replaced by a certain softness.”I already sent him off…”

She slides into the car afterwards, and Andrew stands motionless as it speeds away, kicking up dust in its wake.

For a long moment, Andrew remains frozen, the organ in his chest turning ice cold as his gaze locked on the now empty road.

However, a few seconds after, the growl of a powerful engine fills the air. A limited edition black Mercedes-Maybach S680 screeches to a halt before him!

The door swings open swiftly, and a neatly dressed man in a tailored tuxedo steps out.

But Andrew, like a tree stricken by thunder, Andrew doesn't turn. His gaze is still lost in the direction Lizzy had gone…until the man's voice cuts through the air—calm, yet filled with reverence…

“Master…”

At that, like a flip, Andrew's aura suddenly blazes like hellfire!

He stands motionless, his back turned as the sun rises behind him, casting a shadow over his stiff silhouette. His thoughts swirl, but his focus remains fixed on the empty trails where Lizzy had just driven off.

The breeze tugs at his shirt, and he stands like a ghost of the past, his features as hard as a stone. Then, his voice, calm when he spoke with Lizzy, now cuts through the air.

“You're disobeying orders,” Andrew says, his tone dangerously calm, even though his back remains turned.

The man straightens immediately, tension creeping into his spine and his voice when he apologizes, “Forgive me, master. I couldn't stand by while you were treated like—”

“Like that?” Andrew interrupts, the atmosphere suddenly turns into a chilling temperature. He turns his head slightly, his gaze cold and calculating. “And how am I being treated?”

The man stammer as he looks for words, lowering his eyes when he notices the bloodstained fingers. “Master, you're bleeding—”

“It's nothing,” Andrew dismisses, his mind briefly flashing on the memory of Lizzy angrily stomping his hand. He looks at the bloodied knuckles as if they are a minor nuisance. “A scratch from loyalty. It'll heal.”

Mason clenches his jaws but doesn't protest further. His gaze flickers between Andrew's wound and then, his unreadable face. “Please, let me tend to it. I've bought the kit.”

“I asked you a question,” Andrew says, icily cutting him off. His defiance seems to irk him. “Did you carry out the order I gave you seven days ago?”

He nods firmly. “Yes, master. Everything has been handled. The transactions were routed through the dummy's account, the land registry's updated, and no trace leads back to your name. Not even a shadow.”

A flicker of satisfaction crosses Andrew's face, though it's not a smile—it is more like a man watching his plans unfold exactly as he wanted. “And the board?”

“They'll receive the notice tomorrow, just before the vote that'll take place on Monday. The evidence will be impossible to ignore. Once it leaks, the chairwoman’s removal is certain.”

Andrew exhales slowly, finally turning his full body towards Mason. A glint of controlled power shines in his eyes, one that says much of a calm before the storm. “Good. And Lizzy?”

******

Andrew is now back in the house. He has spent hours doing the laundry, cleaning, and now he's preparing dinner.

His Lizzy is always stressed about her career, especially after her meeting with Mr Theo. Seven days ago, he had instructed Mason to handle the situation. Andrew had seen the relief in her eyes when she received the invitation for the cooperation.

She had shared the news with her mother instead of him, but he had smiled anyway. Her happiness had been his own.

He will even do more for her, and that was why, when he saw her hopelessly gawking at a dress, he had gone beyond and above to get it for her.

She had dismissed him harshly when he casually asked her about it, mocking him and saying he couldn't afford it. But he didn't care about the words. He only has one desire, and that was to acquire that dress.

So when the call connects, Mr Thandril who is in the meeting, even with the air conditioning on, starts sweating profusely.

Only one person in the whole of New York has that phone number. Why is he calling him?

Had he unintentionally offended such a demon? In the business world, Mr Thandril knows he is like an ant compared to this man, so how…

Raising the phone with a trembling hand and a spine gone rigid, he swiped the icon to green.

Before he can say a word, Andrew speaks first, beating him to it. “A dress, specifically an emerald green dress, is in your possession at this moment… I want it acquired with immediate effect!”

His voice is heavy with the weight of irrefutable authority, and even through the phone, Mr Thandril feels the raw power radiating from this demon in human form..

In “The House of De Vil,” Mr Thandril's heart lurched in his chest. The dress in question belongs to the daughter of Senator Grisham—a man not to be trifled with either.

Still, between offending a Senator's daughter and offending him…the choice is very clear. He knew not to offend the greater enemy..

“O-okay,” he responds, stammering. “But where—”

Ruthlessly, Andrew cuts him off. “The address is already in your email. And the payment had been wired too.”

“Than—”

Beep, beep, beep…

The abrupt end of the call forces Mr Thandril to swallow his next words. By now, his hands had become clammy with sweat.

“Mr Thandril…”

“Mr Thandril, are you alright?” Back in the meeting, the board members asks with concern.

Mr Thandril looked visibly shaken and they have never seen him like this, not even once.

“This meeting is adjourned.” He suddenly announces with a tone of dismissal, already standing on his feet.

He needs to process the dress, he can't afford to displease him.

After ending the call, Andrew wires the money, lips quaking up when he imagines how happy Lizzy would be when she finally receives that dress.

“After this, maybe her perception of him will change,” he mutters.

The sound of a running engine into the garage snaps him out of his thoughts.

He swiftly raises his hand, eyes catching the time on his wrist watch and a smirk plays on his lips.

“Mr Theo is surely a good boy now, isn't he?” He mutters.

Andrew stands in the kitchen, finishing dinner. He's done everything, anticipating Lizzy's return, knowing she'll be tired from her meeting.

He moves to greet Lizzy, walking outside to welcome her. But then, something halts him and his body freezes mid step!

Fury bubbles within him, and without second thought, he charges towards them. Outside, Lizzy and Burke are locked together in a passionate, steamy kiss!

“Elizabeth McCalls!” For the first time since they got married, he snaps at her, yanking her out out Burke's grip. Elizabeth stumbles and falls, which infuriates Burke even further.

‘He has ruined his good time, and he dares lay a finger on Lizzy?’ he thinks, turning to Andrew who is facing Lizzy and throwing him a death punch.

Andrews lips tears and blood trickles out of the injury. Andrew looks at Elizabeth, and she is smirking—smirking?!

She gently stands up, dusting an invisible speck of dust off her green clothes. There's not a flicker of guilt or remorse on her face, not even a shadow of shame.

“It's such a pity that you're not only poor and ratched, but you're also spineless!” She mocks. “And what? I can have a good time with myself! It's my body and not yours!” she spits out, her words piercing Andrew from his heart down to his marrows.

“But you're my wife, Lizzy! And I love you! So how can you do this to me?” Andrew lifts a finger, wiping off the blood dripping down his lips.

The hurt in him is raw, like an open wound torn wide. He isn't just angry, he's devastated, humiliated, standing there like a fool in front of everyone, watching the woman he once vowed to live and cherish destri him without a second thought.

“Then, if you're not comfortable with it,” Lizzy says coldly, tilting her head in mock sympathy, “then just sign the divorce papers!”