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Rise Of The Phoenix: Dylan’s Rebirth 36
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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38But before he could face his old comrades, he needed to look the part. Years of blending in had left his wardrobe uninspiring. If he was going to reestablish dominance, he had to start with presence.His eyes landed on an upscale boutique, its sleek glass windows showcasing perfectly tailored suits, each one exuding power and refinement. Without hesitation, he pulled up in front of it and stepped out.The moment he walked in, the atmosphere shifted.The soft hum of polite conversation stilled for a brief second before resuming in hushed whispers. Dylan’s sharp gaze flicked around the room, taking in the subtle yet unmistakable expressions of disdain.The salesmen, dressed in pristine suits, gave him a once-over, their smiles practiced but unimpressed. The customers, clad in designer brands from head to toe, openly stared, some even nudging their companions to whisper behind manicured hands.“Did he lose his way?” a woman muttered, eyeing his simple jeans and leather jacket as if th
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39The older salesman, a man in his late fifties with silver hair slicked back and a thin mustache, strode over with an air of barely contained annoyance. His polished shoes clicked against the marble floor, his every movement exuding an authority he thought Dylan should fear.“Sir,” he began, his tone patronizing, “perhaps I can direct you to something… more within your range?”Dylan turned slowly, his smirk deepening. “And what exactly do you think my ‘range’ is?”The older man didn’t miss a beat. “Something more… practical,” he said smoothly, his gaze flicking dismissively over Dylan’s leather jacket and jeans. “This suit is handcrafted, made from exclusive Italian wool, and tailored for a very particular clientele.”Dylan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “So, let me get this straight—you’re saying I don’t fit into that ‘particular clientele’?”The younger salesman shifted uncomfortably, looking between Dylan and his superior. The two women near the display exchanged amused
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40Dylan ran his fingers over the fabric of a sleek black suit, feeling the weight of Gregory’s irritation lingering in the air. Simon, the younger salesman, trailed behind him, looking like a man stuck between duty and self-preservation.Dylan smirked. “You don’t have to keep following me, you know.”Simon hesitated. “I… I was told by Mr. Gregory to assist you.”Dylan turned, leveling him with a cool look. “And I just told you that you don’t have to. You take orders from customers too, right?”Simon shifted on his feet, glancing toward where Gregory had disappeared. “Technically… yes.”“Great. Then do yourself a favor and go.” Dylan gave him a lazy grin. “I can pick a damn suit without a babysitter.”Simon chewed on the inside of his cheek, torn. Gregory had been clear, but Dylan was a customer. And if there was one thing Simon valued more than his job, it was not getting caught in unnecessary crossfire.Reluctantly, he gave a small nod. “Alright. If you need anything, I’ll be at the
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41Dylan schooled his features before opening the door, stepping out with deliberate calm. His eyes flicked between the two guards—one broad and stiff, the other wiry but just as rigid.“Gentlemen,” he greeted, slipping his hands into his pockets. “What’s the problem?”The first guard, the burly one, squared his shoulders. “We need to check your pockets, sir.”Dylan let out a slow, amused whistle. “Wow. No hello? No ‘how’s your shopping experience?’ Straight to accusations?”The younger guard narrowed his eyes. “A staff member saw you hiding something in your jacket.”Dylan tilted his head slightly, pretending to be deep in thought. “Did they now?” He looked over his shoulder toward where Gregory had conveniently positioned himself near the register, pretending to be busy but obviously watching. “Let me guess… was it him?”Neither guard answered. Their silence was answer enough.Dylan sighed. “Okay. I see what’s happening here.” He spread his arms slightly, making a slow turn. “If you
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42Dylan’s jaw tightened, his entire body bristling with barely contained fury. He looked from Gregory to the guards, then back again, his voice cold but cutting as he spoke.“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dylan said, his tone low and dangerous.Gregory’s smile faltered just slightly, but he quickly recovered. “Do you really want to escalate this? You’re making a scene over nothing.”“Over nothing?” Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not the one who’s making a scene here. Your buddy Gregory”—he spat the name out like venom—“is the one who’s orchestrated this whole thing.”Gregory’s expression hardened, his gaze flicking to the guards. “Enough talk. Do your job.”The older guard, still uneasy, stepped toward Dylan. “Come on, sir, let’s go. Don’t make this harder on yourself.”Dylan shot a glance at the younger guard, who was practically vibrating with impatience. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re actually going to touch me?”The younger guard’s eyes flashed. “That’s it. You’re coming with
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43But Dylan wasn’t about to step back. He pushed forward, his eyes narrowed. “You’re doing it all wrong!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the tension. “You’re giving her the wrong treatment! You’re going to kill her!”The doctor shot a venomous look at him, snapping, “You’re the one who’s causing damage here! Just stay out of the way!”Dylan ignored him, crouching again as he muttered under his breath. His hands trembled slightly as he began applying pressure to the woman’s chest, using a traditional healing technique that involved manipulating the body’s energy flow. He wasn’t doing it properly by modern medical standards—he was working from instinct, pressing in ways that helped align the body’s natural rhythms.But it was clear to the doctor and bystanders that Dylan was failing to stabilize the woman. His movements were erratic, the healing slow and not precise enough to address her deteriorating condition.“You’re just making it worse!” the doctor barked again, stepping in
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56A heavy silence blanketed the room, thick with tension and unspoken accusations. Dylan’s pulse roared in his ears as his gaze remained locked on Odile’s lifeless form. Something was terribly wrong—he could feel it in his bones.Before he could utter a word, the door burst open. The sudden noise startled Olivia, making her flinch. A tall, broad-shouldered man strode inside, his dark brown hair slightly tousled as if he had rushed here. His piercing hazel eyes scanned the room like a predator sizing up its prey.And when his gaze landed on Dylan, they hardened like stone.“Who the hell is this?” the man demanded, his voice sharp and laced with hostility.Olivia swallowed hard. “Lucas,” she breathed, tension creeping into her tone.Dylan’s jaw tightened. He didn’t need an introduction to know exactly who Lucas was—Olivia’s cousin or brother, the golden boy of the family. The way he carried himself, the effortless arrogance in his stance, told Dylan everything he needed to know. Lucas
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55Olivia’s breath hitched. “Dad—”“This is for your own good, Olivia,” Lewis interrupted, his tone final. “I won’t have you putting your faith in a man who can’t even explain what he did.”Dylan’s jaw tightened. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”“You do if you want to stay,” Lewis shot back.Dylan let out a bitter chuckle. “Right. Because I’m supposed to prove myself to you?” He shook his head, stepping back. “I don’t need your approval. I don’t need you to believe me.” He turned to Olivia, his gaze softening. “I only cared about saving your life.”Olivia’s lips parted, uncertainty flickering across her face.But Lewis had heard enough. “If you won’t leave on your own, I’ll make sure you do.”The threat hung heavy in the air.Olivia’s breath quickened, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Dad, you’re making a mistake.”Lewis didn’t even blink. “No, Olivia. You’re the one making a mistake by trusting this fraud.”Dylan scoffed, his patience hanging by a thread. “You’re so damn sure
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54 Dylan’s head snapped toward Lewis, who stood tall, his piercing blue eyes filled with disgust. “That’s what you are, isn’t it?” Lewis sneered. “Some fraud pretending to have abilities beyond human comprehension. A desperate man playing pretend.” Dylan’s fury ignited like a match to gasoline. His jaw clenched, his muscles coiled. “You don’t know a damn thing about me,” he growled. “Enough!” Zara barked, stepping forward with a smirk. “This is ridiculous. Olivia, do you even hear yourself? You’re defending him? This outsider, this nobody? You actually believe he has some divine power to heal people?” She let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “What next? Should we kneel before him and start praying?” Dylan let out a bitter chuckle, his patience snapping like a brittle thread. “You’ve got a lot of nerve,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “Calling me a fraud when you don’t even know who the hell I am.” “Oh, we know exactly who you are,” Lewis cut in coldly. “A mistake.” Dylan’s
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53 Dylan stared at Olivia, his jaw tightening. Heal her? His fists clenched at his sides as anger surged through him. "What the hell do you mean, Olivia?" His voice came out sharp, almost a growl. "Heal her? How?" Olivia swallowed hard, her eyes darting from him to her parents, then back to the little girl on the bed. "I—" she hesitated, her breath shaky. "I planned this, Dylan. From the moment I asked you to follow me." Dylan took a step forward, his chest heaving. "Planned what, Olivia?" She finally met his eyes, guilt flashing in hers. "When I told you I just wanted to thank you for saving my life… I lied." His stomach twisted. He had known something was off, but this? His fingers twitched with the urge to run a hand through his hair, but he held back. "So you tricked me," he said, voice low and deadly. "You used me." Her lips parted, panic flashing across her face. "I had to!" she burst out. "Dylan, you don't understand! I—" She turned to her parents, her hands shaking. "I
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52Dylan barely had time to process the man’s words when another voice cut through the tension, sharp and mocking.“Who the hell are you?” The voice dripped with disdain, coming from the far side of the room, near the open window.Dylan turned, startled. A woman stood there, leaning against the frame with an air of superiority. She was tall, dressed in a sleek black dress that contrasted sharply with the soft pink surroundings. Her arms were crossed, and her lips were twisted into an amused smirk, as though the entire situation was some kind of joke to her.“Well?” she pressed, her voice tinged with arrogance. “Who are you to be in here, looking at my daughter like that?”Dylan’s heart pounded in his chest. “I—I don’t know who she is, but I—”“Don’t lie!” the woman snapped, her eyes narrowing as she stepped further into the room. “You’re just some outsider, right? One of Olivia’s random guests? Or did you finally figure out the ‘family secret’ and decide to stick around?”Dylan could
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51 “Alright,” he finally said, his voice steady but laced with uncertainty. “I’ll follow you. But you owe me an explanation.” Olivia’s face softened in relief, and for a brief moment, he could see the vulnerability in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered, squeezing his arm before turning toward the hallway. As they walked down the corridor, Carmen stood frozen in place, her face pale with anxiety. She didn’t move as Olivia and Dylan disappeared from view, but the worry in her eyes lingered long after they had passed. Dylan glanced over at Olivia as she led him down the hall, the mansion’s grandeur feeling almost oppressive now, as though the walls were closing in around them. The distant sound of footsteps echoed through the silent house. They reached a set of stairs leading to the upper floor, and Olivia’s pace quickened. Dylan’s steps slowed as he noticed the way she was moving—quick, yet careful, like someone who had done this many times before. “Olivia,” he began, his voice
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50 Olivia’s voice cut through his thoughts, softer now. “It’s okay, Carmen. You can tell them I’ll be there soon.” She turned to Dylan, trying to lighten the mood. “Sorry about this. Family stuff. You know how it goes.” But Dylan didn’t feel reassured. Instead, he felt the sharp tug of suspicion. He’d seen people act a certain way when they were hiding something, and Olivia’s behavior, her way of avoiding his gaze, was one of those signs. Dylan stood there, his frown deepening as he watched Olivia carefully. She was clearly avoiding his gaze, her eyes darting to the floor, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her sleeve. Something was definitely off, and the unease in his chest was growing by the second. He took a step closer, lowering his voice. “Olivia, what’s going on? You’re not telling me something.” She hesitated, biting her lip and glancing up at him briefly before looking away again. “I… I didn’t exactly invite you here just to thank you,” she said softly, her voice
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49A few minutes later, they arrived at a large, wrought-iron gate. The gate was imposing—tall and intricately designed, the kind of thing you’d expect to see in a place that had been standing for decades, if not centuries. Olivia slowed the car, pressing a button on the dashboard to open the gate. It creaked open slowly, revealing a long, tree-lined driveway leading up to a massive mansion in the distance.Dylan’s eyes widened just slightly, though he tried to keep his expression neutral. The house in front of him was magnificent. It was a sprawling two-story estate, with gleaming stone and large windows that reflected the evening sky. It looked like something out of a dream—or a movie. He could feel the weight of the place, a kind of quiet opulence that commanded attention.As they pulled up in front of the house, Olivia parked the car and turned to him. “Welcome to my home,” she said softly, her voice almost reverent as she looked up at the mansion. “I know it’s a lot. But… it’s wh
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48Dylan blinked, caught off guard by her request. The way she spoke, her voice so earnest and pleading, made it difficult to dismiss. But his first instinct was still to pull away, to avoid whatever this was, because he wasn’t sure what it meant.She was cute, sure, but that didn’t mean he had to complicate things.“What kind of thanks is this?” he thought, unsure of whether he was more confused or intrigued by the idea. Still, the thought of just slipping away quietly tugged at him. He didn’t owe her anything more than the help he’d already given. And yet, looking at her—at Olivia—he couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward her. The dimples, the warmth in her smile, the sincerity in her eyes. She wasn’t just offering a thank you; there was something more in her invitation.“Alright,” he said after a long pause, his voice low, though still hesitant. “I’ll come. But I don’t know what else I can do other than just show up and listen. I’m not one for grand gestures.”Olivia’s face lit up w
