The voice boomed through the room like thunder rolling across the sky, silencing everyone on the spot.
“The Scott family!”
Could it be the Scott family from the East? The one with their fingers in every pie, controlling the whole region?
Hearing that colossal name, Finn Miller was frozen in place. He quickly turned to look. Entering the room was an older man in his sixties, dressed in a traditional outfit. His face was stern, and his expression tense. Despite his gray hair, his energy was almost intimidating-he walked with purpose, as if he owned the place. Behind him were several warriors dressed in black robes, each with a sword strapped to their waist. They didn’t show a hint of emotion, looking more like ancient guards than modern men.
In this bustling city, who else would dare stroll around with swords and guards in such attire? Only the Scott family could pull off a stunt like this.
Even the John family wouldn’t have the guts to show up like this!
And this wasn’t just anyone; it was Carson from the Scott family!
No one here might recognize the Scott family’s head, but everyone knew Carson. He handled nearly all the family’s affairs since the family head was famously elusive. Carson represented the Scott family itself.
Seeing him, Finn Miller’s jaw dropped, and he was too terrified to speak.
For everyone in Vernon, the Scott family was practically a myth. They were so shrouded in secrecy that, outside of Carson, no one even knew what they looked like.
If you passed a Scott on the street, without Carson by their side, you’d never know. It was like an ancient, mystical force; you’d heard the tales, but no one knew the truth.
And because no one recognized members of the Scott family, people constantly speculated about their business. Rumors were endless, but one thing was certain: as long as they existed, everyone else had no choice but to look up to them.
There was a famous story in town: a son of the Scott family went to a bar, and the bartender tried to pull a fast one, overcharging him by several thousand bucks. Later, that son bought the entire street for ten times that amount and evicted every single owner that night. The story spread across Vernon, giving rise to the saying, “Better to spend a night in jail than mess with the Scott family.”
Their influence was beyond anything ordinary people could imagine. It was like they had their hands on the very lifeblood of Vernon’s economy. With a single gesture, they could shake all of Seclela.
So how could Finn Miller not be terrified, standing in front of a man like Carson?
Staring at Carson, he felt his scalp tingling. And when Carson’s piercing gaze fell on him, he felt like he was suffocating. That aura was crushing, like a mountain weighing him down.
Actually, it wasn’t Carson’s aura that was intimidating-it was the knowledge of who he was. Knowing his connection to the Scott family brought that overwhelming sense of authority.
Next to him, Kyler Clarkson seemed confused. He didn’t recognize the old man or know what the Scott family was, so he chuckled awkwardly and asked, “Finn, is this old guy someone you invited?”
“Old guy?” Finn repeated in a low voice, and nervously said, “Don’t say that; he’s not someone you can mess with.”
Kyler shrugged, “So even throwing your name out there wouldn’t help?”
“Duh.” Finn Miller dropped his act immediately. In front of Carson, he didn’t dare pretend anymore.
Meanwhile, the restaurant owner was paralyzed with fear, shaking as he approached and stammered, “C-C-Carson…”
Before he could get another word out, Carson raised his hand in a clear “stop” motion.
Seeing that, the owner clammed up instantly, retreating with his head down.
“Carson,” Finn stammered, instinctively bowing. “I’m Finn Miller from the Miller Group; my father is Brayan Miller.”
Carson gave him a cold, assessing look, then glanced at the people Finn had brought with him. His gaze sharpened, and he asked icily, “Did you bring all these people to go against the son of the Scott family?”
Finn’s heart skipped a beat. The son of the Scott family? Who? Could it be… him? Finn’s eyes fell on a scruffy guy in worn-out clothes. Was he the son of the Scott family?
It didn’t make sense-no way someone dressed like that could be a Scott!
Finn couldn’t believe it. As much as he wanted to deny it, something in him was starting to waver.
Before he could respond, Kyler Clarkson laughed and said, “Carson, you must be mistaken! There’s no Scotts here. I’ve known this guy since I was in Inassea; he’s just a loser who keeps trying to steal my girl. I was just about to ask him what he was doing here-”
Smack!
Before Kyler finished, Carson slapped him hard, knocking out a tooth and splitting his lip.
Kyler was sent sprawling, crashing into a table that almost tipped over.
“You little punk!” Carson roared. “How dare you speak of the son of the Scott family that way!”
Finn Miller was petrified. All he could do was watch his cousin being beaten. He suddenly had a sinking feeling that they’d just messed with someone they shouldn’t have. Could it be true that this scruffy guy was actually the Scott family’s son? A guy who could be with a woman that beautiful couldn’t be ordinary.
Finn realized he had miscalculated. He thought he was dealing with some nobody trying to steal his girl, but now it was clear he was the fool. How could an average guy have a chance with such a gorgeous girl? Impossible.
He hated Kyler for dragging him into this mess. If Kyler had only kept his mouth shut, they wouldn’t be here right now.
Now, he was in over his head, and he couldn’t see a way out.
Finn Miller felt chills run down his spine, as if a disaster was looming overhead.
Without sparing a glance at them, Carson approached Kayden Scott, his movements a bit shaky. He looked Kayden over with respect, seeing the calm and indifferent expression on his face, as if none of this mattered to him.
Without another word, Carson got down on one knee, clasped his hands together, and announced loudly, “Carson, at your service. I welcome the young lord back home.”