The Emperor

I won't forgive anyone

For a moment, the room was silent.

Then suddenly.

Slap!

The sound echoed through the air.

Anna slapped Christopher’s cheek, her eyes were blazing with tears and fury.

“You jerk!” she cried, her voice was cracking. “Do you think you have the right to judge me? You left me! You disappeared without a word!”

“If you hadn’t abandoned me back then,” she screamed, “I wouldn’t be in this mess!”

Her voice trembled, rising with anguish. “Do you even know what these five years have been like for me? My family disowned me because of you! Every time Faith asked about her father, I didn’t even know what to say! I’ve worked myself to death — any job, anything just to feed her!”

Tears streamed down her cheeks as her words broke apart. “These years have been hell, Christopher… pure hell! I’ve been hanging by a thread!”

Christopher stood motionless. The rage that had burned in him moments ago faded away.

He had never imagined that Anna had suffered so much.

He took a slow breath. “Anna…I’m sorry.”

He reached out gently, brushing a tear from her cheek. “I didn’t know…”

“Sorry?” Anna’s laughter came out hollow and bitter. “You’re sorry?”

Her eyes were red and swollen. “Do you know your daughter was born with a congenital heart disease? The doctor said she needed surgery before she turned six! She’s five now, Christopher! Five! Her time is running out!”

She clutched her chest, gasping between sobs. “I tried to save money, but it was never enough. I begged everyone — even my family turned me away. I had no one else! I came to that bastard Vance only because I was desperate!”

Her voice broke again, collapsing into despair. “And now you show up — only to blame me?”

Christopher’s eyes darkened with self-loathing. He had endured countless gunfights, betrayals, and near-death missions… but this moment broke him more than any of those.

He looked down. Faith was holding tightly onto his leg, tears streaking face.

“Sir…Mommy’s telling the truth. She works hard every day so I can get better. Please don’t hurt Mommy…”

Her tiny voice pierced through Christopher’s chest like a knife.

His gaze shifted from Faith’s pleading eyes to Anna’s torn clothes, then to Vance, who lay unconscious on the floor, blood trickling from his nose.

At that moment, everything became painfully clear.

Anna hadn’t been degrading herself — she had been fighting for their daughter’s life.

And the people who should have protected her — the Lancaster family — had turned their backs.

Christopher’s chest rose and fell as his anger build up.

Vance… The Lancasters… everyone who had hurt them…

He would make them all pay.

Christopher turned back to Anna, his expression softening. “Anna, I understand now. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”

He stepped closer and pulled her into his arms. “I should’ve come back sooner. I should’ve protected you. I’m sorry for every night you cried because of me.”

Anna’s hands trembled before she finally collapsed against his chest. Her tears soaked his shirt as years of pain poured out of her.

Christopher held her tightly, “From today on, no one will ever hurt you or Faith again. Those who did, I’ll make them pay — an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.”

Anna’s sobs grew louder, her strength giving way at last. She clung to him as if afraid he would disappear again.

Faith stood behind them, blinking her big amber eyes, she looked confused and curious.

Anna wiped her tears and turned to her daughter with a trembling smile.

“Faith, come here. Come and call him daddy… He's your Dad.”

Christopher lowered his hand and let his fingers rest gently on Faith’s small head. “From today on, I’m your daddy. Daddy will protect you and Mommy. Will you give Daddy another chance to make it right?”

Faith flinched, “you’re a bad person! You were bullying Mommy before! You are not my daddy.”

She darted behind Anna, hugging her leg as if she could disappear there. Christopher chuckled awkwardly. He rose, turning his attention back to Anna. “Don’t worry,” he said, steady and certain. “I’ll take care of Faith’s illness. From today on, I’ll protect both of you. You need to leave now.”

Anna’s hands trembled as she stared at him. “What about you?” she asked.

“I’ll make this scumbag pay for what he tried to do.”

He led Anna and Faith out. Christopher watched his family go then turned back into the shattered private room where Marco Vance was beginning to stir.

When Vance opened his eyes, blood plastered his hair to his forehead, fury replaced the fog of pain. He spat and snarled, “Anna! Where did that bitch run off to? How dare she hit me — I’ll make you wish you were dead!” His head snapped toward Christopher. “And you — who the hell are you? I’ll kill you right now!”

He barked orders, desperate and wild. “Bring her back! Bring that little bastard too! Kill them!”

A tide of black-clad bodyguards surged forward to obey. Their hands found weapons. They moved with practiced menace. For a moment it seemed violence would reassert itself — until a new sound thundered through the night sky: the sound of helicopters.

Vance staggered to the window. His face went slack as dozens of helicopters hovered into view, lights painting the club in bruised colors. Ropes dropped. Soldiers poured down. Thousands of boots hit the ground. Their guns were already trained on the club’s men.

The black-clad guards froze. Men who had thought themselves untouchable now looked like frightened boys. the knight commander, Leon stepped forward, saluted crisply. “My lord.”

Christopher did not give long speeches. He waved his hand once. “Kill them.”

Leon nodded, expression slate-still. “Yes, my lord.”

What followed was merciless and clinical. Soldiers advanced. The gunfire was rapid. Within minutes the black-clad contingent lay still.

Vance watched each body fall as if the world had gone mute and time slowed. His bloodless face contorted with a dawning horror. He clambered back, scrambling, desperation giving him speed as he tried to reach anything like a chair, a doorway, a window. “Who— who are you?”

Leon expression twisted into a cruel sneer. “You are not even worthy of knowing my lord’s name.”

The words hit harder than a blow. Vance’s breath came out in quick, shallow gasps. He looked up at Christopher, and crawled forward, clutching Christopher’s thigh.

“Please—please, sir! I’m sorry! I was wrong! Spare me, I beg you! I’ll do anything, anything you want, just don’t kill me!”

Christopher didn’t move. He looked down at the man groveling at his feet.

“Go to hell and repent.”

A gunshot cracked through the silence.

Vance’s body jerked once before collapsing, lifeless, onto the blood-stained floor. The bullet had found the center of his forehead. Christopher glanced at the corpse with cold detachment, then turned toward the door. “Clean it up,” he ordered simply.

Leon bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

He signaled two soldiers. They stepped forward immediately, grabbed the dead man by his arms, and dragged his body away like discarded trash. When they were gone, Leon reached into his coat and pulled out a golden envelope embossed with an intricate crest.

“My lord, the patriarch of the Lancaster family will host his birthday banquet tomorrow evening. This—” he extended the envelope with both hands “—is an invitation from the Lancasters. They claim all of Lisle City’s elite will attend, to welcome the emperor’s return.”

Christopher’s gaze flicked down at the envelope. The word “Emperor” written in gold shimmered faintly under the light.

“Lisle City’s elite? They’re just a bunch of insects scrambling for crumbs. Do they think they can flatter me into forgetting the past?”

He turned the invitation once between his fingers, then dropped it onto the table beside him. “The Lancaster family is not even worth inviting me.”

Leon inclined his head, expression grave. “Yes, my lord.”

Without another word, Christopher walked past him and went to Anna’s apartment, it was already dawn. The neighborhood was quiet with cracked walls and flickering streetlamps revealing the roughness of her life.

Inside, Christopher stepped inside quietly. The space was small, cluttered, and painfully modest — a single-room apartment with peeling wallpaper, faded curtains, and furniture. His gaze swept over every detail: the unpaid bills stacked on the table, the patchwork repairs, the single photograph of Faith smiling beside her mother.

This was the life she had lived while he was gone.

He felt the guilt, and regret. His sudden disappearance years ago had left her at the mercy of a cruel world. Because of him, she had been expelled from her family and forced to struggle just to survive.

He sat on the couch across from her and watched her sleep.

Christopher stayed there all night, unable to sleep. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, only sat in silence as moonlight faded into morning.

When Anna finally stirred, the first thing she saw was Christopher sitting by the window, his head turned toward the soft glow of dawn. For a moment she thought it was a dream.

“Christopher?”

He rose immediately, crossing to her with quiet steps. He crouched beside her and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You should rest more.”

Christopher placed a hand on Faith’s forehead and smiled faintly. “I’ve already arranged everything,” he said. “In a few days, the doctor will come. Faith can undergo her surgery soon.”

“I wasn’t there when you needed me most, but from now on, I won’t let anyone hurt you or Faith again.”