The Underdog Son-in-law

009

Edrin stepped forward the moment the atmosphere shifted his chest puffed with pride, he didn't know his way around the city way too well.

He straightened his shoulders, adjusted his cuffs, and let his gaze harden into the expression people had learned to associate with authority.

“Enough,” he said calmly, voice carrying just far enough to reclaim attention. “Whatever game you think you’re playing, this isn’t the place for it.”

The crowd leaned subtly toward him, relief rippling in quiet waves. 

He gestured loosely around them, as if the setting itself were proof. “Do you have any idea whose territory you’re standing in? I'm Edrin, a man to be feared. The people here aren’t interested in theatrics. You should leave before this turns unpleasant.”

"Is that so?" The man's brows thugged.

He stood there with his hands relaxed at his sides, eyes steady, expression unreadable in a way that felt deliberate.

Edrin felt the first flicker of irritation.

“You’re being warned,” he continued, tone sharpening. “I don’t care who sent you. I don’t care what name you think carries weight where you’re from. This is not a place where you test boundaries.”

A few people nodded, emboldened by his certainty.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Someone needs to remind him where he is.”

The man finally spoke.

"I'm Nox, one of the seven rulers of the underworld."

The effect wasn’t immediate chaos. It was worse.

The sound drained from the room in stages, conversations collapsing as recognition spread unevenly across faces and knees buckled.

Edrin laughed.

"Should that mean anything?"

"Yes, my family could crush you in a moment. We are under the leadership of the almighty Jade Lord?"

Edrin's face instantly drained of colour. The name that caused his family so much trouble for just crossing them paths, bringing them their name to the bottom line of the food chain.

His heart buckled and a beat of sweat dripped from his face.

"Oh... I'm sorry for the misunderstanding!" His stance instantly shifted and fear crept into the deepest part of his being.

It came out wrong. Too sharp, too quick, the sound of someone forcing disbelief into confidence.

Two figures moved.

They hadn’t been noticeable before, standing far enough back to blend into the architecture of the room. Now they stepped forward with measured precision, their movements smooth, practiced, final. No one blocked them. No one spoke.

Edrin took a step back, fear pierced into his face.

“We could settle this amicably!" He stuttered.

"That didn't happen when you slapped my subordinate!" The man sneered and the temperature in the room instantly drooped.

Hands closed on his shoulders.

The grip wasn’t violent. It didn’t need to be. The force behind it was absolute, efficient, and stripped of emotion.

 Edrin struggled once on instinct, disbelief flaring into panic as his balance vanished and the floor rushed up to meet him.

His knees hit the ground.

The sound was dull and heavy, echoing through the halls.

Frightened people were running away from being caught in the crossfire.

Lyra froze where she stood.

Her mind stuttered, refusing to process what her eyes were telling her. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t how these situations ended. Edrin didn’t kneel. Other people did.

Her chest tightened as panic clawed up her throat.

She moved automatically, fingers shaking as she unlocked her phone and dialed the first number that came to mind. It rang once. Twice.

 Then stopped.

No answer.

She tried another. Then another all immediately noted that they could not help immediately they heard the name of the person that was involved.every refusal landing heavier than the last. Some calls went unanswered. Others were cut short with careful apologies, voices suddenly distant and strained.

“I can’t get involved.”

“This isn’t something I can touch.

”

“You should distance yourself.”

The words blurred together into one clear message.

She was on her own.

Lyra lowered the phone slowly, her grip tightening as the room seemed to tilt. Her gaze lifted, scanning the space in a daze, until it landed on someone she hadn’t meant to look for.

Caelen.

Memory surged up unbidden, sharp and unwelcome. Every time something had gone wrong. Every time pressure had turned real, when threats had stopped being empty words and started carrying weight.

It had always been handled.

Quietly, efficiently and without anyone else needing to know how.

Lyra swallowed hard.

She hesitated only a moment before moving, pride cracking under the weight of necessity. Each step toward him felt heavier than the last, the distance between them stretching unnaturally, as if the room itself resisted her approach.

She stopped in front of him.

"Edrin is in trouble and your attention is needed. Come right away."