The Return Of War God: Evander Holt

Who kill Caleb?

Mrs. Grayson's blindness is no small matter. Because only someone truly blind could believe you were ever more excellent than Caleb."

Luther shot up from his seat like a thunderclap. His chair scraped backward violently. His fists were clenched, his jaw locked, and fury carved deep into every line of his face.

Murmurs exploded around the long table,

"Did he just say Daniel?!"

"How dare he bring up that name here?"

"Who the hell is this guy? Is he begging to die?"

The weight of their whispers was nothing to me. I kept my eyes locked on Luther.

Cyrus, ever the loudmouth, jumped up next. "Damn it!" he barked, practically foaming at the mouth. "Does this bastard have a death wish? Get the hell out of this house!"

Luther didn't say a word. He just stood there silent, seething like a fuse waiting to catch flame.

I leaned in a little. "Then tell me, Luther... Can you say, right here, in front of all these people, how exactly Caleb died?"

Silence blanketed the hall for a beat. And then Cyrus laughed.

It wasn't the kind of laugh that came from amusement, it was mockery, pure and rotten.

"I always knew you were guttered scum," he said, sneering, "but whatever happened to that useless bastard Caleb? That's not your business. It's not even worth remembering."

He stepped closer, practically spitting in my direction as he waved his hand across the room. "Open your damn eyes. This house has only one young master. Luther. That other one who died? He was nothing but a shame. He got what he deserved."

I felt the rage stir inside me. Cyrus turned to Luther, his face contorted into a grotesque grin, desperate for approval like a dog waiting for scraps. "He embarrassed this family. That worm's name shouldn't be mentioned again. And you—" he snapped his gaze back to me—"you should cut out your tongue. Chop off the hand you used to slap my sister. Then kneel. Maybe my brother-in-law will show you mercy."

He tilted his head, smirking. "Why are you still standing there like a fool? Or do you want me to—"

That's as far as he got.

He froze.

A sharp gasp punched out of him as his eyes dropped to his torso.

He saw my fingers, three of them deep in his lower abdomen. The color drained from his face. His mouth worked soundlessly as blood began pouring down the front of his expensive white shirt, blooming like a red rose across his stomach.

"You..." he croaked, barely audible onto the floor.

His knees gave out. He collapsed.

Gasps erupted all at once. Women screamed. Chairs screeched back. People jumped to their feet with horror plastered across their faces.

Evelyn's shriek cut through the chaos.

"Cyrus!"

She dropped to her knees beside his crumpled body; her hands were shaking as they pressed helplessly against the pool of blood soaking into the marble. The floor was slick with it. Crimson, vivid. Spreading fast.

"Enough." I roared.

The room fell into silence. 

Corwin stepped forward without a word and extended a handkerchief. I took it, casually wiping the blood from my fingers. 

Then came the banshee wail.

"You monster!" Evelyn screamed. "You killed him! I'll never forgive you!"

"There are people you never insult," I replied coldly, meeting her gaze. "Your brother violated that rule. He got what he deserved."

Luther, now shaking with fury, snarled, "Who the hell are you really?!"

I let out a long breath. "I hate repeating myself."

Then I raised my voice for everyone to hear.

"So, I'll ask again—how did Caleb Massi die?"

Luther took a step forward, eyes blazing, about to explode. I could see it in his face. The denial. The panic. The fear.

But before a single word left his mouth, 

"What is going on here? Who is causing such a fuss in this house?" a voice broke through the silence; it was loud and commanding.

Every head turned instantly.

Even I didn't have to guess. I already knew who it was,

"The Matriarch has entered."

Luther's fury vanished immediately. He practically flew to her side. "Welcome, Grandmother," he said, voice trembling. He guided her gently to her seat.

She moved like royalty. Draped in layers of rich emerald silk, a fur stole curling over her shoulders. Her eyes surveyed the blood. The corpse on the floor. "Who did this?" she asked again with a sharp voice.

The room held its breath. She turned to Luther, her supposed pride.

"Can you tell me what is happening here?"

Luther looked stunned, like a boy caught stealing. His lips parted, but no word escaped. He was silent. He couldn't muster a single sentence.

Then her gaze shifted to me. "You," she said, her voice rising. "Is all this your doing? And who the hell are you?"

I didn't flinch. I stepped forward, unbothered.

"Yes," I said. "My name is Evander."

"Evander…?" She repeated

"Evander Holt…? The adopted son of House Caelum?"

I nodded once.

And the room caught fire with whispers.

"He disappeared for ten years—"

"He's the Caelum bastard—"

"Just adopted… what right does he have?"

I heard it all. All their murmurs.

She lifted her chin higher; I could see the flames in her eyes rising. "You disappeared for ten years without a word," she snapped. "How dare you return only to cause mayhem in my Massi house?"

The voices around us grew louder, like flies buzzing.

"How dare a bastard talk to the matriarch like that?!"

"Kill him—he deserves death!"

"You'd better give me a reason. A reason I shouldn't wipe your entire house off the map for this outrage." The matriarch said with loud voice.

I took one more step forward, locking eyes with her. "Then let's make it mutual, madam," I said, my voice came out like a drawn sword. "Because if you can't give me a reason for Caleb Massi's death… then the Massi's family will also have no reason to exist."