In unison, the heavily armed personnel turned their heads toward Douglas. Then, in perfect synchrony, they saluted.The silence now felt thunderous. Nelson’s subordinates, equally shocked, exchanged bewildered glances. Their eyes snapped toward Douglas, who stood calm and unperturbed as though the display was nothing out of the ordinary."Sir…?" Nelson whispered, uncertain of what to say. He was filled with confusion!He wondered what kind of hidden identity Douglas possessed that made him command such reverence in the most dangerous region of PortVarter!However, Douglas remained still with his eyes sweeping the formal assembly before him. His gaze, as sharp as a blade, held the soldiers' attention like a magnet!Finally, in a calm and unwavering voice, he spoke,“Did ‘The Baddie’ at the border have a change of heart?” Douglas's voice was neither mocking nor harsh—it carried a quiet authority that seemed to demand answers without force. “Has he decided to break his promise not

Nelson sat rigidly in the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white!He didn’t dare to speak, let alone suggest one of his subordinates take over.The drive down Maccano Mountain was silent, save for the soft hum of the engine and the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath the tyres. As Nelson glanced at the road ahead, he noticed Henry at the base of the mountain, upright, solemn, exuding an air of unshakable authority, as though awaiting their departure. Behind him stretched a long line of armed personnel. Their weapons slung across their chests as they stood like statues, two neat rows on either side of the road.Nelson’s hair stood on end, his throat tightening as he felt a little fear with the way they were all gathered.They all stood as loyal sentinels, their eyes trained forward, unmoving.Suddenly, a powerful, synchronized shout rang through the crisp mountain air, startling Nelson so badly that he nearly slammed on the brakes.“

Half an hour later.Marvin reclined against the curved edge of the grand bathtub with a self-satisfied smirk stretched across his face. Linda also flashed a satisfied smile. "The best decision I ever made was breaking off my engagement with Douglas and being with you."Her eyes gleamed as she tilted her head back. A satisfied moan escaped from her lips.Her alluring curves pressed tightly against Marvin. Marvin swallowed hard and chuckled, his breath quickening again. “I bet he’s sitting in some dirty prison cell, his head hung low in defeat." "Maybe he’s even crying out, begging for someone to save him,” Marvin laughed heartily. Linda’s laughter joined his.“Serves him right. That lowlife was always a thorn in everyone’s side. Now, he’s being given what he deserves,” Marvin grinned, his eyes gleaming with a vindictive satisfaction. “I’ll drink to that,” he said, pretending to raise an invisible glass. “Here’s to Douglas Garnett, languishing in prison where he belongs, while

Learning that Governor Clarke remained adamant about pursuing a marriage alliance with the Drakes, and placing Marvin in control of PortVarter, pushed Nelson to the edge of his patience.Nelson cursed under his breath as he stubbed out yet another cigarette in the overflowing ashtray beside him. “Idiots,” he muttered. “All of them. They’re playing with fire, and PortVarter will burn because of their arrogance.”Nelson’s fists clenched as he thought about Marvin’s smugness and Linda’s scheming.Compared to Douglas, Marvin was no doubt a joke!Unable to sleep, Nelson tossed and turned on his bed, chain-smoking and wrestling with the despair that gripped him. The next morning, Marvin emerged from Linda’s room, looking refreshed and self-satisfied. He wore a smug grin as he descended the grand staircase.Downstairs, Stewart had arranged for breakfast to be ready for him. A lavish spread of milk, bread, eggs, and fruit awaited Marvin at the dining table. Stewart greeted him warmly, e

Meanwhile, in stark contrast to Stewart and Marvin's view of Douglas, he woke up in his prison cell to the sound of polite knocking. When he sat up, a young officer entered, carrying a basin of warm water and a soft towel. “Good morning, Mr. Garnett,” the officer said respectfully. “Chief Nelson arranged for these. Please take your time.” Douglas nodded, his calm demeanor unshaken by the peculiar hospitality. After washing up, he folded the towel neatly and placed it back on the basin. Moments later, another officer appeared, inviting him to breakfast. The dining hall was nothing short of a spectacle. A lavish spread covered the long table, with dishes that seemed more fitting for a five-star hotel than a prison. French toast and butter, Parisian ham, creamy cheeses, freshly squeezed juice, steaming coffee, fried eggs and sausages, black pudding, and other mouthwatering delights adorned the table. Standing by the table were Chief Nelson and a chef in pristine w