The Illegitimate Heir Returns

Chapter 3 - Whispers Of Home

Inside the hall, the party was already in full swing.

Everywhere you look, servants were moving gracefully among the guests, serving wine and exotic dishes too expensive to pronounce.

Laughter echoed beneath glittering chandeliers. Music played softly in the background, mixing with the pounding rain from outside, drowning out the carnage unfolding beyond the walls.

At the far end of the room, the fireplace was burning intensely. With golden charcoals reserved only by powerful houses like the Briarwoods, the sight alone was breathtaking.

Then everything came shattering down in an instant.

BOOM!

The heavy doors ripped off of its hinges, crashing down on the marble floor, sending a cloud of dust and debris into the air.

Every head turned towards the entrance. The music stopped. Servants froze mid step. One by one, conversation died out as hundreds of eyes remained fixed on the shattered entrance.

The cloud of dust soon cleared, revealing a man standing in the shattered doorway.

Tall.

Fair.

With black, curly hair falling over his eye, leaving only one visible eye staring into the hall.

His entire suit was soaked through from the storm, water dripping from the fabric and pooling on the marble floor beneath him.

For several seconds, no one said a word. No one moved.

Then the guests erupted.

“What the hell!”

“Who the hell let this rat in?”

“How the hell did he get through the gates?”

The snickers weren't subtle. They made sure Jake heard every single word.

Jake didn’t respond. He didn’t even move. He just stood there, his lone eye fixed on the fire burning in the grand fireplace ahead.

Something stirred within his chest as he stared into the dancing flames, memories from his childhood days flashing through his mind.

He remembered sitting before that very fireplace during the cold winter nights, his little sister beside him and his mother sitting across from them.

She would tell them stories about the great Blackwood Clan, her voice filling the room with warmth as the fire crackled between them.

He blinked, and the memories were gone.

Jake gritted his teeth, anger coursing through every vein in his body like electricity.

Just then, a woman came walking towards the commotion.

She was a beautiful blonde haired lady with tanned skin, accompanied by five men wearing tactical gears like the ones Jake had fought outside. The only difference was that these men were different.

More composed.

More muscular.

And far more dangerous.

An ominous aura radiated from them, the kind that could make even a grown man lose his nerve.

The moment the guests saw the woman, relief flooded through their faces instantly.

“It’s lady Nela.”

“She came here with the Black Hand. The stranger is finished.”

“Finally , he’ll learn his place.”

Nela walked toward Jake, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor with every step.

She stopped three steps away from him, a deep frown creasing her beautiful face.

“You!” she barked, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Who are you and how did you get into this hall?”

“I’m the landlord,” Jake replied almost instantly, his voice cold as ice. “You all are standing on private property.”

Nela gritted her teeth, her body trembling with barely restrained anger.

She was Nela Young, a servant of the Briarwoods and the woman responsible for hosting Novak’s hall tonight.

She pointed at Jake, her voice rising into a furious bark, “you arrogant bastard! How dare you interrupt Lord Cassian’s party? I’ll make sure you pay for this with your life!”

The moment she finished speaking, the five men behind her stepped forward without waiting to be ordered.

Two wielded axes, while the other three gripped daggers tightly in their hands.

Together, they charged at Jake from different angles, attacking simultaneously in an attempt to overwhelm him.

This time around, Jake didn’t wait for them to reach him.

He covered the distance between them in an instant, moving at unnatural speed. He caught the first man's wrist and twisted it swiftly, breaking his bone before driving a powerful punch into his stomach.

The man flew backwards, crashing into another guard before slamming hard against the wall and sliding to the ground.

Unmoving.

The remaining three came simultaneously from different angles, weapons raised and hoping to finish Jake in one strike.

Bam!

Bam!

Bam!

Jake landed three strikes consequently in the blink of an eye. One blow to the neck, one to the stomach and the final one to the head. Each man was sent flying backward, crashing into the far wall with enough force to crack the plaster before sliding down to the floor.

Unmoving.

Silence descended over the hall. Every head turned towards Jake in stunned disbelief.

Nela wasn’t left behind either.

She stood frozen among her scattered men, her usual composure gone.

The black Hand were no ordinary men. They were men personally handpicked and trained by Elder Killian himself—one of the highest ranking martial artists in the Briarwoods family. They were ten times more powerful than the guards stationed outside the hall.

Yet, they had been defeated so easily. By a single man no less.

Jake slowly straightened, his eyes fixed on Nela’s trembling figure. “Where’s Cassian?” He asked softly, his voice dripping with venom.

Nela trembled as she took several steps backwards.

Just then, a single man emerged from the shadows and walked towards the commotion.

He was huge.

Shirtless.

A thick cigar hung from the corner of his mouth, while nearly every inch of his muscular body was covered with tattoos.

The moment Nela saw him, the fear in her eyes disappeared.

Her confidence returned.

A wicked smile slowly curled across her lips.

“Now you’re dead.”