The King Of War Returns

Engagement arrangement

“I haven’t, please! I don’t know what you’re talking about. This hotel was built ten years ago, and I’ve never seen any music box,” Derek stammered, visibly shaking. His forehead was covered in sweat, and his lips trembled as he tried to steady himself in front of Jaden. “B-but I can order one right away! Just tell me what kind you want. I’ll get it, I promise!”

Jaden stared at him, expression calm yet unreadable.

“Do that,” he said coldly. “I want the one that plays lullabies.”

Derek nodded rapidly. “Y-yes… Yes, I’ll take care of it immediately!”

---

Meanwhile, on the upper floor of the hotel, inside a lavish private suite, a meeting was underway.

The room was brightly lit, elegant and quiet. Four people sat around a polished oak table—two of them being Mr. and Mrs. Winston, with their daughter Hannah seated between them, and the fourth was a sharply dressed woman in her late forties, Emilia Smith, the elder sister of Agatha Thornfell.

“Mr. Winston,” Emilia began as she leaned forward slightly, her tone smooth and professional, “this engagement is a big step—not just for our families, but for the image of Ravenmoor itself. Your daughter, Hannah, is one of the most admired young women in the city. And Derek, my nephew, is one of the rising stars of our generation. Together, they’ll make a very strong couple.”

Mrs. Winston smiled nervously, while Hannah simply lowered her eyes. Her fingers were tightly clasped in her lap, and not once had she smiled since the meeting began.

“I must apologize on behalf of my sister Agatha and her husband Lucian,” Emilia continued. “They’re out of town, caught up in an urgent matter overseas. I’m handling things on their behalf and will be hosting the engagement party tonight.”

“I hope that’s not a problem?”

“Not at all,” Donald Winston said, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. “In fact, President Emilia, it's an honor to have you here. Your reputation speaks for itself. Ravenmoor respects you.”

“You’re too kind,” she replied with a gracious nod.

Donald turned to Hannah, who was still seated with a distant expression on her face. “Hannah,” he said, voice calm but firm, “make sure you enjoy your time with Derek. Smile more. Appear happy. That’s important.”

“I understand, Father,” she said softly, exchanging a silent glance with him.

She didn’t need to be reminded of what was at stake. The Winston family was drowning in debt—fifty million, to be exact. Their empire was collapsing, and they had already burned through most of their connections, begging for help that never came.

Until Derek Thornfell showed interest in her.

And along with that came his promise to wipe their debts clean—if Hannah agreed to be his fiancée. There was no romance here, no love. Only pressure. Only strategy.

And she hated it.

Hannah didn’t want to marry Derek. She never loved him. Her heart still clung to the stranger who had once saved her life from an attempted kidnapping. That man was a ghost now, faceless in her memory, yet unforgettable.

Before she could drift deeper into thought, the door suddenly burst open.

A guard stood there, panting, blood on his sleeve. “President Emilia! There’s a man downstairs… He’s causing chaos. He destroyed the decorations, killed Manager Alex, severely injured Elder Dusk—and now he’s threatening Mr. Thornfell!”

The room froze.

“What?” Emilia stood instantly. “Who the hell is this person?! He’s going to regret this!”

Even Hannah was startled. “He injured Elder Dusk? That doesn’t make any sense. Who would dare—”

“Let me handle this,” Donald said, standing up as he reached inside his coat. “This is the perfect moment to prove our loyalty to the Thornfells.”

He pulled out a grey card—sleek, metallic, engraved with the Winston family crest.

“Take this,” he said, handing it to the guard. “Show it to him. Tell him it’s an official order from the Winstons to surrender.”

The guard’s eyes widened. He accepted the card like it was a sacred relic.

“A grey card... Yes, sir! He’ll tremble when he sees this!”

Grey cards weren’t toys. They symbolized status, legacy, power. Only the seven elite families of Ravenmoor had them, and even though the Winstons were faltering, their name still carried weight.

“I appreciate your help, Mr. Winston,” Emilia said with genuine relief. “Thank you for stepping in.”

“It’s nothing,” he replied. “We’re family now—we support each other.”

Hannah stood. “I’m going downstairs now, Father.”

“Alright, sweetheart. Don’t forget what I told you,” Donald replied with a nod.

She gave a small gesture and left the room.

As she descended the stairs, all eyes turned to her. Hannah Winston was easily among the top three most beautiful women in the city.

“Wow, so that’s the famous Hannah Winston?” one guest whispered.

“She’s just as stunning as the rumors say,” another murmured.

But Hannah’s attention was on the chaos—the hall was wrecked, and several guards were groaning on the floor.

“What the hell happened here?” she asked aloud, unsure if one man could really be responsible for all this.

Then her gaze locked onto Jaden.

Her eyes widened in shock.

“It’s him!” she whispered.