Stephanie shook her head, her voice tight with frustration. “That’s because you don’t understand him.”
A sigh escaped her lips, heavy and full of melancholy, as she lowered her gaze.
“Stephanie, why are you still holding on when it’s clear you’re falling apart? Has the Scott family abandoned you?” Kayden asked, his tone sharp but curious.
The Scott family was no small player. Their influence stretched far and wide, and it seemed almost unthinkable they’d allow one of their own to be mistreated so openly.
But Stephanie just shook her head again. Her voice was quiet, almost resigned. “No, it’s not that. It’s my fault.”
She hesitated, her lips trembling as if the words tasted bitter. “Dennis wasn’t always like this. He used to be so kind, so thoughtful. But two years ago, he fell ill, and when he recovered… well, he had issues. Ever since then, he’s been suspicious, paranoid. I never imagined he’d change this much, but now… now he sees me as… someone I’m not.”
Kayden’s jaw tightened as the pieces began to fall into place. He didn’t care much for excuses, though. Whatever Dennis’s struggles, they didn’t justify how he’d treated Stephanie.
“And the Scott family? Why haven’t they stepped in? Is it because of me? Because you let me go back then?” Kayden pressed, his eyes narrowing.
Stephanie’s hands clenched, and she shook her head again, this time more forcefully. “No. It’s not about that. This is my doing.”
Her voice dropped to a murmur. “Your grandfather didn’t approve of my marriage to Dennis. But I was stubborn. I thought… I thought I knew better. And now, look at me. How can I go to your grandfather for help after all this? I brought this on myself.”
So that was it.
Kayden’s expression softened as he placed a hand on her shoulder. His voice was steady, firm. “Even so, he has no right to hurt you.”
Stephanie’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Kayden…” she whispered, her voice tinged with gratitude. But then, her expression darkened. She pulled away slightly, shaking her head. “You shouldn’t get involved in this. Dennis isn’t what he seems. Over the past two years, anyone who’s crossed him has suffered. He’s ruthless.”
“I know you’re powerful, but so is his family. His uncle is a high-ranking official in the court. You’d be taking on more than just Dennis-it’s his entire network. Please, don’t put yourself in danger for me.”
Kayden’s grip on her shoulder tightened, his voice dropping to a low growl. “I don’t care if it’s Dennis, his family, or his uncle. No one has the right to hurt you.”
Stephanie’s lips parted, as if she wanted to protest, but Kayden cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Enough. Let me take you somewhere safe to rest first.”
—
Dennis staggered through the front door of his mansion, his emotions a volatile mix of fear, anger, and humiliation.
At first, he’d been nervous. That man-Kayden-wasn’t someone to be underestimated. Dennis had fully expected him to retaliate.
But no one had followed him. That realization brought relief, albeit fleeting.
Then the relief turned to rage.
Dennis’s mind raced, conjuring images, scenarios. Stephanie and that man, together. Laughing. Plotting. Maybe even…
His fists clenched as his imagination spiraled. That bastard had insulted him outright, humiliated him, and stolen his pride as a man.
Dennis’s blood boiled. His humiliation burned hot, fueling the fire of vengeance.
“You think you can humiliate me and walk away?” he muttered, his voice low and venomous. “Naive. Foolish. This is your death sentence.”
He pulled out his phone, dialing with trembling fingers.
“Mr. Roberts,” Dennis barked. “Gather everyone. Tonight, I want blood.”
There was a pause on the other end, but Dennis didn’t wait for a reply. “No questions. Just bring every man you can find. I want blood tonight!”
He hung up, storming into the house.
—
By the time dusk settled over the Lloyd estate, the courtyard was teeming with men-over a thousand, all handpicked by Mr. Roberts.
Dennis stood at the entrance, his black suit tailored to perfection. His hair was slicked back, every detail meticulously arranged to radiate authority.
“Young Master,” Mr. Roberts said, stepping forward with a slight bow. “We’ve gathered 1, 300 men, as requested. I trust this will be sufficient.”
Dennis nodded, his lips curling into a cold smile. “More than enough.”
The sight of the crowd before him reignited his confidence. Kayden might have been skilled, but no one could stand against raw numbers like this.
Dennis turned to Mr. Roberts. “You know why I called you, don’t you?”
“I’ve heard bits and pieces,” Mr. Roberts replied, his tone calm yet curious.
Dennis sneered, the memory of the humiliation still fresh. “Some fool injured my driver, kicked me, and now he’s trying to take my wife. Unforgivable.”
The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, their outrage palpable.
“What? He’s after the Young Master’s wife?”
“Disgraceful!”
“Who does he think he is?”
Dennis raised a hand, silencing them. “If it weren’t for the gravity of this insult, I wouldn’t have called you all here tonight.”
Mr. Roberts stepped forward, his small frame belying his reputation as one of the most dangerous men in the underground. His voice carried authority as he addressed the crowd. “You’ve all heard it. The Young Master has been disrespected in the worst way. We will not let this stand. Find this man and tear him apart!”
The roar of the crowd echoed through the estate, a deafening promise of violence. Dennis felt his heart race, his blood pounding in his ears. This was power. This was control.
But just as the energy reached its peak, a chilling voice sliced through the noise like a blade through flesh.
“Quite the lively gathering you’ve got here.”
The crowd froze.
Dennis turned, his eyes wide. Standing at the edge of the courtyard, silhouetted against the fading light, was Kayden.
His voice was calm, almost amused. But there was no mistaking the danger in his tone.
“Now, who’s ready to die first?”