THE WAR GOD'S RECKONING

Chapter 4

The Smiths sneered, disgust dripping from every word.

“We don’t need your cursed jinx of a child anyway,” Morgan spat, arms folded tight across her chest, chin jutting up “Take your bastard and get the hell out. Don’t come here ruining our celebration.”

Damon chimed in, face twisted in mock pity. “Should’ve stayed dead, Max. Or maybe you just like crawling back so we can watch you fail.”

Benjamin Smith’s cane hammered against the floor.

The old man’s eyes burned holes through Max. “You will not leave with her,” he snapped and then turned to Fiona

“Fiona, you will marry into the Cooper family, or you’ll bring your own bloodline to ruin. That’s an order.”

Max didn’t even blink, he stood tall in the look of their hatred, shoulders loose, and face cold.

He glanced at Fiona, gave her a single nod.

His voice stayed low. “I’m not here for your approval. I’m waiting for my wife’s answer. The rest of you can keep barking like the mutts you are.”

The crowd rippled, murmurs, scoffs and shocked whispers.

Fiona looked at Max, trembling, then straightened her spine, something fierce lighting up her eyes.

Relief washed over her face, tension draining from her shoulders as she finally spoke, her voice clear, “I’ll go with him. I never wanted this wedding. I never wanted your deals. I want my daughter to have her father.”

The crowd gasped and the Smiths looked like they’d been slapped.

Benjamin’s fury flare up, spit flying as he snapped his cane at Fiona, voice raw with rage, “You selfish girl! You’ll doom your family for your pride? The Smiths are on the brink... this marriage is our last lifeline! You dare throw us all into the gutter for your own happiness?!”

Morgan shrieked, face blotchy with anger. “Do you want us to starve, Fiona? Are you that heartless? How can you look your elders in the eye and spit on everything we built for you? You ungrateful wretch!”

Damon’s voice rose, desperate and wild, “We raised you! We sheltered you! The Coopers are offering you salvation... you throw it away for a man who abandoned you and a brat that should’ve never been born?!”

The guests started hissing, some calling out, some shaking their heads, and definitely hungry for more drama.

Fiona stood her ground, voice firm but shaking, “I won’t abandon my daughter. I can’t deny her a father’s love just to save a family that’s willing to sell me for a price. I want her to have what I never had.. a real family. Even if I have to walk through hell to give her that.”

Max smirked, lips curling, voice loud enough for every soul in the room to choke on it.

“Hear that? Family is more than a business deal, you decrepit parasites. Sell your own souls if you want, but she’s coming home with me. And if you think bankruptcy is the worst thing that can happen to you..try crossing me again.”

The Smiths lost it.

“Get out, you broke bastard!”

“Nothing but bad luck, always dragging filth with you!”

“You’re a curse, Max! Stay gone!”

Max just stood there, lip curled in a sneer, and clearly unbothered.

“Really?” He swept a lazy glance at their tight little circle of cousins and spineless sons. “Should’ve married off one of your precious nieces, then. Or is nobody lining up for your kind of rotten blood?”

The insult hit like a slap, Smith tempers exploded, voices flying, but Max was already turning, extending his hand toward Fiona.

He didn’t care for their rage.

His eyes met Fiona’s, his palm open, silent command in the gesture.

Fiona moved to take it but before her fingers touched his, a hand clamped around her wrist.

Bryan Cooper, the Young Master himself, his face twisted into a cocky sneer. “Where do you think you’re going?” His grip tightened. “You’re my woman now. Nobody steals from me, especially not some washed-up dog from the gutter.”

He tried to drag her close, arrogance leaking from every pore, voice rising for the crowd. “You think you can walk out on me? You’re not going anywhere except my bed, tonight and every night...”

He didn’t finish, Tiger flashed between them, his movement sharp.

And with one savage kick, Bryan went flying, crashing down in a heap at the base of the podium, gasping for air, and the room frozen in disbelief.

Not a single soul moved.

Max didn’t even look down at the squirming Young Master, he doesn't have time for them yet, he just held his hand steady for Fiona.

This time, she didn’t hesitate and her hand slid into his.

The Smiths unleashed their venom as Max and Fiona turned to leave, their curses trailing after him.

“Go on, bastard, you’ve bitten off more than you can chew!”

“You’ll regret this...nobody shames our family and gets away with it!”

“Just wait, you’ll be crawling back when life guts you again!”

Max didn’t flinch.

His anger was a deep, slow burn and not the type that exploded, but the kind that sat low in his bones, waiting for the right time.

His jaw clenched, but his steps never faltered, one hand firmly around Fiona’s while the other hung at his side, knuckles aching with restraint.

He wanted to break something.

He wanted to drag every last Smith across the marble floor and make them answer for every bruise, every insult, every lie they fed his daughter and sister while he was gone.

But not now.

His mind spun, his daughter and Amelia were still at the hospital. They needed him stable, and not savage. He needed answers about what the hell had happened in his absence, who had sold out his blood, what games had really been played.

He forced a smirk, slow and deadly, over his shoulder.

“You’re right,” he called back, voice lazy and cold, “I’ve bitten off a lot. But trust me, after choking on the Smiths, everything else in this city will be a snack.”

He paused at the door, glancing back, his eyes cold,

“Try not to go bankrupt before dessert. I like my enemies well-fed...makes the hunt more fun".