The Accidental Son-in-law Is A Genius

Module 10: DUKE HARLAN

Standing there was Duke.

The air around him seemed to electrify the space, silencing even the loudest whispers. Tall, with an imposing presence, Duke was the kind of man who could command a room with a glance. 

His dark, piercing eyes locked onto Gibson with a calm intensity that sent a chill down the spines of everyone present. He wasn’t dressed like the elite crowd surrounding him; his black shirt and dark slacks were simple, yet somehow he outclassed them all.

Winifred froze, her mind reeled. She hadn’t expected him. Not here, not now.

The crowd shifted uneasily, unsure of what was about to unfold.

“Who is that?” one reporter whispered.

“Wait... isn’t that Duke Harlan? The industrialist?” another murmured, eyes wide.

Gibson’s smirk faltered for just a second, but he recovered quickly. “Well, this is a surprise,” he said, though his voice betrayed a hint of unease. “Didn’t think someone like you would care about a little scandal.”

Duke didn’t respond immediately. 

Instead, he walked even closer toward Gibson with a measured pace, each step deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world. When he finally stopped, he was just inches away, towering over him.

“I don’t,” Duke said coolly. “But I care about people who make fools of themselves in public.”

The crowd erupted in murmurs. And even the reporters leaned forward, sensing something monumental was about to happen.

Gibson’s smirk wavered, but he forced a laugh. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Duke’s gaze flicked to Winifred for the briefest moment. His expression was unreadable. He was thinking: ‘What does Young Master Wiseheart actually see in her? 

He then returned his gaze to Gibson. “It means I’m here to remind you that actions have consequences, Monroe. You’ve said enough. Walk away while you still can.”

The murmurs grew louder as the tension escalated.

Gibson straightened his shoulders, attempting to mask his discomfort. “And who are you to tell me what to do?”

Duke’s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. “Someone you don’t want to cross.”

Winifred’s breath caught. She knew Duke’s reputation. His name alone carried weight in the upper echelons of society. But seeing him like this, standing up to Gibson in front of the cameras, was something else entirely.

“You think you can intimidate me?” Gibson scoffed, though his voice lacked its usual bravado. “This is between me and her, Mr. Harlan. You don’t even belong here.”

Duke tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Neither does your nonsense.”

The crowd gasped, and Gibson’s face flushed with anger.

“You’ve overstepped,” Gibson snapped, his voice rising. “You don’t know anything about this situation.”

Duke took a step closer, forcing Gibson to lean back. His voice dropped to a low, lethal tone. “I know enough to see a desperate man trying to save face. And I suggest you stop before you embarrass yourself further.”

Gibson opened his mouth to retort but faltered under Duke’s unwavering stare.

“Apologize,” Duke said. His tone was final.

Gibson blinked, stunned. “What?”

“You heard me,” Duke said, his voice steady but icy. “Apologize to her. Now.”

The crowd held its collective breath.

Gibson’s fists clenched, his face a mask of rage and humiliation. “You’re out of line,” he spat.

Duke didn’t flinch. 

Instead, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping even lower. “The only one out of line is you. So I’ll ask one last time. Apologize, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Something in Duke’s tone must have struck a nerve because Gibson’s bravado crumbled. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around as if looking for an escape.

Finally, he muttered through gritted teeth, “Fine. I’m sorry.”

“Louder,” Duke demanded.

“I’m sorry!” Gibson barked, his face red with fury and shame.

Duke stepped back, his presence as calm and unshakable as ever. “Good. Now leave.”

Gibson hesitated, glaring at Duke as though weighing his options. But ultimately turned and stormed off, shoving through the crowd without another word.

As the reporters buzzed with excitement, Duke turned to Winifred. For the first time, his expression softened, though it was still unreadable.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice quieter now. After all, she was the young master's wife now.

Winifred could only nod. Her words failed her.

“Good,” Duke said simply. Then, without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, leaving behind a stunned silence.