Victoria sat at the table for dinner with her entire body almost covered in bandages. She hated the damn hypocrisy her family displayed toward her. They would readily give her hand out in marriage to a man they were not sure of, yet cloth her in bandges of every kind as a form of affection toward her. "Victoria, you have not touched your food yet. Is there any problem?" Lady Erica asked her. Victoria had not noticed that she had been toying with her food while she was deep in thought and all eyes were glued to her. "Oh, uhm. No, I mean everything is absolutely fine." Victoria replied awkwardly, causing everyone to pause their eating and stare at her more intently. Like she was not already used to getting endless stares from them. "Well now can I eat my food in peace?" Victoria said irritatingly. "It course you can dear!" Her mother said out loud with a fu mouth. Victoria went back to her food without a word and soon the others also concentrated on their food. "Oh Victoria!"T

The Zlate villa had never been as tense as it was that evening. A storm brewed within its walls, though outside, the skies remained clear. The double doors to the villa opened, and Jack Sparrow stepped inside. Victoria had not gone a day to visit him at the hospital but she was very sure that he was in a critical condition and was surprised that he had even survived, talk more of making his way down to the villa all by himself. He looked well-rested, healthier than the last time she had seen him, but something was different. His usual confidence was slightly shaken, his steps a little slower. Perhaps he sensed that something had changed. Jack’s sharp eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on Victoria, he forced a charming smile. "Victoria, darling," he said, his voice smooth as ever. "I’ve missed you." Victoria rose from her seat without hesitation. She didn’t miss a beat. "You are not welcome here, Jack Sparrow!" Victoria spat at him, the pitch of her voice had attracte

The training grounds of the Dragon Clan were alive with the sound of battle. The sharp clang of metal against metal, the rhythmic pounding of fists against dummies, and the grunts of warriors pushing themselves beyond their limits filled the air. Dust swirled around their feet as the best fighters in the world sparred, each movement a testament to years of discipline and mastery. Saint stood at the center of it all, his body drenched in sweat, his muscles screaming in protest, but he did not stop. His eyes burned with determination as he dodged a strike from one of his trainers, a former warlord renowned for his lethal precision. With a swift counterattack, he landed a punch to the man's ribs, sending him stumbling backward. "Good," the warlord said, rubbing his side. "But not good enough." Saint barely had time to react before another trainer, a master swordsman from the east, lunged at him. He twisted his body just in time to avoid the blade, feeling the air shift as it sliced

It was not news anymore to the Zlate family that Saint, their one who they had once belittled and made Victoria divorce was the Saint Dragon himself—the leader of the dragon clan. And now, it seemed that they had made their biggest mistake yet by making Victoria divorce him and sent him out of the villa with no reason. The national project that he had helped them to secure despite all the Ill treatment he had gotten from them was a testament to the things that could have been theirs if Victoria were to still married to him .But all was not lost yet. Lord Zlate sat in his study, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the wooden desk. The revelation of Saint’s true status had shaken him to his core. The man they had cast aside, humiliated, and deemed unworthy had turned out to be the leader of the Dragon Clan—one of the most powerful forces in the land. He let out a deep sigh, rubbing his temples. The guilt was almost unbearable. His daughter had loved Saint, yet they had forced her

Victoria sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the pattern of the bedsheet. Her mind was clouded, her emotions tangled in a storm of frustration, sadness, and anger. Her mother’s words still echoed in her head, asking her to remarry Saint now that they knew of his power. The very thought made her chest tighten. How dare they? After forcing her to leave him, after ruining her happiness, they now expected her to go back to him as if nothing had happened? A soft knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. "You have to get on with what you have to say quickly, father." Victoria said, her eyes still glued to the wine. He ignored his daughter's words and placed the bottle and glasses down before pulling out a chair and sitting across from her. "You’ve been through a lot," he said as he uncorked the bottle. "More than you should have." Victoria crossed her arms and looked away. "Is that supposed to be an apology?" Her father sighed, pouring the wine i