The King Of War Returns

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Author’s Note: I’ve heard your complaints, and I take them seriously. To make it right, I’m dropping two free chapters — consider it compensation for your coins and your time.

The moment the servant finished speaking, the entire hall erupted in chatter. Guests leaned toward one another, voices overlapping, necks craning toward the entrance as though Franklin Wilson might already be standing there.

Even Brown forgot himself. He grabbed the servant by the arm, his voice jumping. “Really? That’s really Major-General Wilson? The one from last night’s broadcast?”

The servant nodded eagerly. “Yes, sir! And there are military vehicles lined up outside — soldiers too. Major-General Wilson’s men are already bringing in gifts. He’s not just attending, sir, he came prepared. You’re truly impressive, Mr. Maxwell!”

Brown released the servant and straightened up, his chest swelling. His mind was already racing. The Maxwell family carried weight in Arlington, no question — but Franklin Wilson operated on an entirely different level. A Major-General. Here. At his birthday. He couldn’t make sense of it, but he wasn’t about to question it either. Whatever the reason, the Maxwell name would be spoken differently after tonight.

A booming voice cut through the noise from the entrance: “Major-General Franklin Wilson wishes Mr. Brown Maxwell a very happy birthday!”

Two columns of soldiers filed into the hall in crisp formation, bearing gifts between them. Famous paintings wrapped in protective cloth. Antiques packed carefully in lacquered cases. Then came two large crates — military-exclusive cigarettes and aged wine, the kind that couldn’t be bought at any price through ordinary means. Twenty soldiers in total, moving with quiet discipline through the decorated hall, setting everything down with practiced care.

Behind them walked Franklin Wilson himself, dressed in full military uniform, a small escort of soldiers flanking him.

Brown Maxwell was already moving. He straightened his jacket, signaled his wife and Khalid with a look, and crossed the hall to meet Franklin at the entrance, his earlier fury entirely forgotten.

“I had no idea Major-General Wilson would be gracing us with his presence tonight,” Brown said, dipping his head with genuine deference. “Please forgive me for not welcoming you properly at the door.”

Franklin smiled, easy and unassuming. “Not at all. I heard it was Mr. Maxwell’s seventieth birthday and wanted to pay my respects. Forgive me for arriving without an invitation — I hope it isn’t an imposition.”

“Not in the slightest!” Brown laughed, waving the thought away with both hands. “Please, Major-General Wilson, come in, come in. The best seat is yours.”

He guided Franklin toward the head of the host’s table personally, ensuring his comfort with the attentiveness of a man who understood exactly what this moment meant for his family’s standing.

Then his eyes swept sideways and landed on Jaden’s family, still standing where he had left them. The warmth drained from Brown’s face immediately. He stepped toward them and lowered his voice to a tight, controlled hiss. “Get out. All of you — street rats. I won’t pursue this matter tonight given the company we have, but I want you gone. Scram.”

Nora’s face went white. She looked at him the way a person looks when they are hoping they misheard something. “Dad—”

“I have no daughter,” Brown said flatly, and turned away.

Jaden put a steady hand on Nora’s arm. He didn’t look at Brown again. “Mum,” he said calmly, “we’re not wanted here. There’s no point in staying. Let’s go.”