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Rise Of The Phoenix: Dylan’s Rebirth 30
30Jane scoffed immediately, crossing her arms. “Dylan? Are you kidding me? He’s a nobody. A broke loser. No one would even care enough to blame him.”Lisa leaned back, swirling the deep red liquid in her glass, the candlelight from the expensive chandelier casting a golden shimmer across the room. “That’s where you’re wrong,” she murmured, taking a slow sip. “He may be worthless, but you were married to him. That gives him just enough connection to your success to make the story believable. You say he sabotaged you out of jealousy, and boom—you go from failed businesswoman to victim of a bitter, spiteful ex-husband. People love a good betrayal story.”Jane hesitated, her fingers tapping impatiently against her arm. The idea was tempting, but it wasn’t foolproof. “It’s risky,” she muttered, her voice laced with doubt.Lisa’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Everything is risky,” she said breezily, placing her glass on the table with a soft clink. “But the rewards? They could be huge. Sy
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31Jane tapped her screen, opening her social media app. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, crafting the perfect post:Jane Cooper:"Betrayal cuts the deepest when it comes from someone you once trusted. After years of sacrifice, I was on the verge of securing the biggest deal of my career—until my ex-husband, Dylan, ruined everything out of petty jealousy. He couldn’t handle my success, so he made sure I lost it all. Some men just can’t stand to see a woman rise above them."She paused, rereading the words. They were strong, but they weren’t enough. She needed to twist the knife deeper. With a wicked gleam in her eyes, she continued:"And while I’ve been rebuilding from the damage he caused, he’s been doing just fine—thanks to Helen Nelson’s generosity. It’s funny, isn’t it? Some men will do anything to avoid earning their own way in life."Lisa let out a low whistle. “Savage. I love it.”Jane stared at the post for a moment longer, then, with a satisfied smirk, hit Post.The mome
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32 On the Other Side of the City… Mr. Nelson leaned back in his grand leather chair, his fingers drumming lightly against the mahogany desk. The city skyline stretched behind him, the lights twinkling in the night like scattered stars. He had barely hung up with Helen when he pressed a button on the intercom. “Charles,” he said, his voice cool but commanding. Within seconds, the heavy double doors swung open, and Charles Emerson, his sharp-eyed young butler, stepped inside. Dressed in a crisp black suit, the man in his early thirties carried himself with effortless precision. His neatly styled dark hair and piercing gaze gave him an air of quiet competence. He inclined his head slightly. “Yes, sir?” Mr. Nelson turned the phone screen toward him, showing Jane’s post and the firestorm it had ignited. “Get this post off the internet. Now.” Charles adjusted his cufflinks, scanning the words swiftly. “I’ll have my contacts work on it immediately, sir.” Mr. Nelson’s eyes darken
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33Lisa slammed her glass down on the table, ice clinking violently against the sides. “No way,” she hissed, snatching her phone back and refreshing the page over and over again.Jane leaned in, her expression darkening. “Try searching it up. Maybe it’s just a glitch.”Lisa’s fingers moved fast, typing keywords into the search bar. Nothing. It was as if their entire post—and the storm it had created—had never existed.Her jaw tightened. “This isn’t a glitch, Jane. Someone took it down.”Jane’s lips curled into a sneer. “Took it down? Who the hell has that kind of power?”Lisa exhaled sharply, setting her phone aside as she reached for her drink again. “I don’t know, but if Dylan had anything to do with this, then he’s got some serious connections.”Jane scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, please, Lisa. Don’t be foolish. Dylan? Powerful connections? The guy’s a joke. You really think he’s capable of pulling something like this off?”Lisa hesitated, the memory of that night at Jane’s place
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34The Next Morning…Sunlight streamed through the villa’s expansive windows, casting warm golden streaks across the polished marble floor. The air carried a serene stillness, disturbed only by the distant chirping of birds and the occasional rustle of leaves outside.Dylan stirred on the couch, his back stiff and aching from a restless night. Sleep had barely touched him—Jane’s betrayal, the online scandal, and the endless thoughts swirling in his mind had kept him awake. He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face before finally pushing himself up. His throat felt dry.Water. I need water.As he took a step toward the kitchen, he heard heavy footsteps approaching.“Hey—”Before he could finish, a sharp, authoritative voice sliced through the air.“Stop right there!”Dylan’s head snapped up. Standing at the entrance of the living room were two of the villa’s security guards, both looking at him like he was a criminal caught in the act.The taller of the two, a broad-shouldered
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35The door creaked open.All three men froze.A small, sleepy voice broke the tense silence.“Daddy?”Dylan turned sharply, his heart twisting at the sight of his four-year-old daughter, Molly, standing at the top of the staircase. She was still in her pink pajamas, her curly hair a messy halo around her head, and she rubbed her eyes with tiny fists.The guards exchanged confused glances.Molly pouted, her little brows furrowing. “Daddy, why are you yelling?” She clumsily made her way down the stairs, her bare feet padding against the wooden steps.Dylan exhaled sharply, his frustration melting into concern. He didn’t want her waking up to this nonsense.“Molly, baby, go back to bed,” he said gently, forcing his voice to remain calm.But Molly was already making her way toward him. She latched onto his leg, looking up at the two guards with a mix of curiosity and annoyance.“Who are these men, Daddy?” she asked, blinking up at them.The younger guard stiffened, glancing between Dylan
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36Molly huffed, pointing an accusing finger at them. “I told you!”The younger guard stammered, his cocky attitude gone. “W-We didn’t know—”“You didn’t listen.” Dylan’s voice was sharp, his patience long gone.Helen’s eyes flashed with irritation. She crossed her arms and gave the guards a cold stare. “Apologize. To both of them.”The older guard’s jaw clenched, but he swallowed his pride. “Mr. Grenville we’re sorry.”The younger one hesitated, then turned to Molly, his face red with embarrassment. “Kid, uh—Molly—we’re really sorry. We were wrong.”Molly tilted her head, unimpressed. “You were mean.”The younger guard flinched. “Yeah… yeah, we were.”Helen nodded, then took a step closer. “Now beg.”Their eyes widened. “What?” the older guard blurted.Helen arched a brow. “Did I stutter? You almost threw your boss and his four-year-old daughter out of their own house. If you want to keep your jobs, you better start groveling.”The younger guard’s face paled. He exchanged a panicked
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37Dragonia’s ReturnDylan leaned against the sleek red Ferrari, his arms crossed as he watched Helen walk Molly into the school. His daughter turned back one last time, her bright eyes lighting up as she waved at him. He waved back, a warm smile on his face, playing the part of the doting father.But the moment Helen’s car disappeared down the street, his smile faded. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating glint. The playful father was gone.The man the world once feared had returned.He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out an old phone he put there when entering the car. It was a simple, unassuming black device, one he hadn’t touched in years. A phone that was never meant for casual use. It carried only one purpose: business. His business.Dylan pressed a familiar number. He hadn’t dialed it in years, but his fingers moved without hesitation. Muscle memory.The line rang once.Twice.Then—A sharp intake of breath. The sound of a chair scraping
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Chapter 168 – The Calm Before the StormSeraphina sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the wall but seeing nothing. Her hands trembled in her lap, betraying the storm raging inside her. No matter how hard she tried to steady them, they wouldn’t stop shaking. The weight of her confrontation with Dylan lingered in her chest like a dull ache, refusing to fade. She hadn’t meant to react so violently, but the sight of him standing there, demanding answers—demanding the truth she had tried so hard to bury—had ignited a fury she thought she had buried long ago.She had thought she was prepared for this moment—that she could handle it if Dylan ever returned. But now that he was back, now that he had looked at her with those desperate, broken eyes, she felt everything unravel.She had told herself for years that she didn’t need him. That their daughter didn’t need him. And yet… why did it still hurt?A small, warm hand touched hers.“Mommy?” a soft voice murmured.Seraphina flinched, snapp
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167Dylan stood there in the empty room, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. His hands still gripped the armrests as if he could hold onto something—anything—to keep himself grounded. But nothing made sense anymore. He had seen the truth in Seraphina’s eyes, even though she denied it. The girl was his. He could feel it deep in his gut.But Seraphina, with all her bitterness and anger, had left him in that cage of his own making. She walked out with the child, leaving him here, imprisoned not just physically but mentally, too.He wanted to follow her. He wanted to run after her, grab her by the arm, and demand she tell him the truth. But deep down, he knew she wouldn’t. Not like this. She had already said too much—he had hurt her too deeply, and nothing he said would ever be enough to fix that.The walls felt closer now. It wasn’t the literal ones of the room, but the ones he had built around himself, the walls he had put up all those years ago. He had walked away from Seraphin
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166Dylan’s mind raced as he stood there, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t shake the thought—that girl, the one Seraphina kept talking about, had to be his daughter. There was no other explanation. He had to know for sure.“Seraphina…” His voice came out hoarse, uncertain. He took a cautious step forward. “How old is she?”Seraphina’s gaze hardened, her jaw tightening at the question. “Five,” she snapped, her eyes flashing with an anger that almost made Dylan step back. “Why does it matter?”Five. Five years old. Dylan’s breath hitched, his heart doing an unsettling flip in his chest. Five years…He swallowed hard, trying to steady his thoughts. It couldn’t be a coincidence. He hadn’t seen Seraphina in five years. That was right around the time he had walked away from her—left them both. Molly was four, and this girl—this child—was five.His legs shook, but he forced himself to keep his composure. “Five… so that means…” He trailed off, eyes wide, trying to piece everything
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165Seraphina’s gaze softened just for a second before she turned away, her face hardening once more. “I don’t know,” she muttered, almost to herself. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? You had a chance to be part of her life, and you threw it all away. Just like you threw me away.”Dylan’s heart twisted in his chest, guilt flooding his veins. His legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the floor, his hands gripping the armrests as though he might fall apart if he didn’t hold on. “I never meant to hurt you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I never meant to leave you. I thought I was doing the right thing… but I was wrong. I was wrong about everything.”Seraphina didn’t respond right away. She stood there, her arms crossed, her eyes staring out the window as though she were seeing something far away. Her silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable, until finally, she spoke, her voice quiet but cutting.“Don’t you dare try to make this about you,” she said, her tone icy. “You don’
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164 But his cries fell on deaf ears. The guards, clearly intimidated by Seraphina’s wrath, ignored him as they forcibly pulled the little girl away. Her protests grew louder, her tiny body wriggling in their grip.“Mommy, please! Don’t let them take me!” she cried, her voice breaking with fear.Seraphina stood there, her gaze unwavering as the child was dragged from the room. She didn’t flinch, didn’t move a muscle. Her expression was cold, emotionless, as if the scene unfolding before her didn’t affect her at all.Dylan’s heart twisted in his chest as he watched the child disappear down the hallway, her cries echoing in the silence. The sound of her desperation was like a dagger, cutting through his soul, leaving him with a hollow ache that he couldn’t shake.The guards left the room, their footsteps fading as they carried the girl away. Seraphina didn’t follow, didn’t make a move to stop them. She stood there, her back straight and her gaze fixed on the floor.Dylan, however, could
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163 Dylan was still reeling from Seraphina’s words when the unexpected sound of small footsteps echoed in the hallway. His thoughts were a whirlwind, tangled in the confusion and betrayal that Seraphina had hurled at him. He had thought he understood her—once. But now, all he was left with was the sharp sting of her accusations, and the painful realization that everything he had believed in was a lie.He stared at Seraphina, his chest tight with frustration. She stood there, her gaze cold and unwavering, as if she were the one who had been wronged. His heart ached, but there was no time to dwell on the past. The footsteps grew louder, drawing his attention away from her and toward the hallway.And then, in the doorway, a small figure appeared.“Mommy! Mommy!” The voice was high-pitched and innocent, filled with desperation. Dylan froze, his heart skipping a beat as the little girl ran into the room. Her face was familiar—strikingly so. She had the same dark hair, the same wide eyes,
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162 Dylan stood in the dimly lit cage, still reeling from the weight of Seraphina’s words. His mind raced as he tried to piece together the truth from the lies, the half-truths, and the manipulations. The anger, the betrayal—it all swirled in his chest like a storm that threatened to tear him apart. But despite the chaos, he knew he had to keep pressing, had to make her reveal everything.“You turned rogue, Sera,” Dylan said, his voice hoarse but determined. He lifted his chin, trying to hold her gaze, but her eyes were like steel, impenetrable. “I heard you wanted to take the lead of Dragonia. That’s what Victor told me.” He paused, a heavy silence falling between them. “He said you were making moves behind the scenes. That you wanted to reshape everything.”Seraphina’s eyes flickered with something—amusement? Frustration? It was hard to tell, but whatever it was, it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. She chuckled, a low, bitter laugh that sent a chill down his spine. H
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161Dylan’s pulse quickened, his head spinning with a cocktail of rage and confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?” His voice cracked, the rawness of his throat echoing his desperation. “I didn’t do anything to you. I was just trying to protect my daughter! I never wanted to hurt you, Sera. You don’t get to make me the villain here.”Seraphina’s gaze softened for a brief moment, and for the first time, Dylan saw the flicker of the woman he once knew, the woman who had once been kind, gentle. But just as quickly as it came, that softness disappeared, replaced by cold fury. She stepped toward the cage, her movements deliberate and slow, the sound of her boots echoing in the silence.“You never wanted to hurt me?” she repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Is that what you tell yourself? You left me, Dylan. You walked away from me. Without a word. You didn’t care about what I was going through. And then, when you did show up again, you were with her. You were with her. And
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160“No…” Dylan’s voice cracked, his body trembling with a mix of horror and sorrow. “You’ve lost yourself, Sera. You’ve let all this hate consume you.” He staggered toward her, but his movements were slow, weak. “This… this isn’t you. You’ve changed. You’ve become… a person I don’t even recognize anymore.”Seraphina’s expression hardened, her face transforming into an unreadable mask of indifference. “I don’t care what you think,” she spat, her tone dripping with contempt. “I don’t give a damn about your opinions anymore. You made your choice, Dylan. Now live with it.”The words hit him like a slap to the face. Live with it. What choice had he made? He had never wanted any of this. He had never asked for any of it. And yet here they were—he, broken and defeated, and she, consumed by a twisted version of vengeance. There was no room for understanding, no space for forgiveness. Just anger, regret, and a shattered future.Dylan swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving hers. “I never wante
