2025-01-20 16:44:00The atmosphere in the Rolls-Royce was tense. Dylan sat in silence, his jaw clenched as the weight of his recent phone call with Jane lingered. Sensing his unease, John Nelson leaned forward, his face dark with anger.
“Young Master,” John said, his voice low and serious, “after hearing how your ex-wife treated you and Molly, I have to ask—should we reconsider this cooperation with her company? People like her don’t deserve your help.”
Dylan’s gaze softened slightly as he looked at John. “John, I'm always happy to help my wife's company. But now...Jane is not my wife anymore.”
His voice was calm, but his words carried a firm edge.
John nodded in understanding, his expression thoughtful. “I see.”
The convoy arrived at the grand entrance of the Royal Elysian Hotel, where a red carpet had been rolled out. Luxury cars lined the driveway, with elegantly dressed guests mingling outside.
John glanced at his granddaughter Helen, who had remained quiet the entire ride. Her shyness was evident, but John saw this as an opportunity to let her spend more time with Dylan.
“Helen,” John said gently, “why don’t you accompany the Young Master inside? I’ll handle the business side of things with Jane’s company for now.”
Helen’s cheeks flushed pink, but she nodded obediently. “Of course, Grandpa.”
John stepped out of the car first, flanked by several attendants. Dylan exited next, holding Molly’s hand, followed closely by Helen.
As John walked away with his aides, Dylan and Helen made their way into the hotel. The grandeur of the lobby was breathtaking—crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and marble floors gleamed under the warm lights.
But the moment they stepped inside, Dylan’s expression darkened. Across the lobby, Jane stood in an elegant emerald gown, her hair styled perfectly, her makeup immaculate. Beside her was a chubby man in a poorly fitted suit, whose gold watch seemed comically oversized for his wrist. His confident smirk gave him an air of self-importance that clashed with the sophistication of the surroundings.
Dylan sighed, hoping to avoid a confrontation, but Jane’s sharp eyes caught sight of him. Her expression twisted in anger, and she stormed toward him, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floor.
“You!” Jane spat, pointing an accusing finger at Dylan. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice loud enough to draw the attention of nearby guests and security.
Dylan looked at Jane. He had never imagined that the kind girl he once deeply loved would turn out like this.
His jaw tightened, and he replied coolly, “I don’t think I owe you an explanation.”
Jane’s face turned red with fury. “Don’t lie to me! You’ve been stalking me, haven’t you? How else would a nobody like you end up in a place like this?”
Dylan sighed, his patience wearing thin. “Stalking you? Don’t flatter yourself. I was invited here by the Nelson family to have a meal.”
Jane let out a harsh laugh, loud enough to draw the attention of nearby guests, and the chubby man beside her joined in, his round belly shaking.
“By the Nelson family?” Jane sneered. “Dylan, do you hear yourself? The Nelsons don’t associate with people like you.”
The chubby man stepped forward, puffing out his chest, his smirk widening. “Is this your ex-husband, Jane? The one you told me about? He doesn’t look like much.”
Jane crossed her arms and sneered. “That’s him. Dylan Grenville. A broke, useless man with no status or money. He’s probably here to cause trouble.”
Dylan met Jane’s scornful gaze, his expression unchanging. “Believe what you want,” he said indifferently. “I have no reason to explain myself to you.”
The man still smirking said, “allow me to introduce myself. I’m Bobby Jackson, a billionaire entrepreneur and someone who’s very well-acquainted with the Nelsons. If you really were invited by them, I’d know.”
“In fact, I can call them right now and confirm whether you’re telling the truth.” He continued.
Dylan remained unfazed. “Believe what you want,” he repeated calmly.
Jane smirked, placing a hand on Bobby’s arm. “Bobby’s the one who helped me secure the cooperation with the Nelson family,” she said proudly. “You think you can compete with him? Don’t make me laugh.”
Around them, murmurs of admiration rose from onlookers.
“She’s with Bobby Jackson? Isn’t he one of the city’s richest men?”
“No wonder she’s so confident. Her ex-husband looks like a joke next to him.”
Dylan’s lips curled into a faint smile, but he said nothing.
Helen, who had been silent until now, couldn’t contain herself any longer. She suddenly burst into laughter, the sound light but unmistakably mocking.
It was so funny for Helen because she knew the Nelson family was only cooperating with Jane for Dylan's sake and now she was saying this nonsense.
Everyone turned to look at her. Jane’s eyes narrowed, and her voice dripped with venom. “And who is she? Your new girlfriend, Dylan? Is this why you’ve been acting so bold lately? Have you been cheating on me all along?”
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140: The Waiting TrapThe night air clung to Dylan like a second skin as he approached the massive estate. The towering iron gates loomed before him, their intricate designs casting eerie shadows in the dim light. Beyond them, the house stood still. Silent. Too silent.Something was wrong.No guards. No movement. Not even the flicker of a light inside. This was not the setup Dylan had anticipated. He’d been expecting a fight—gunmen, guards, or at least a few hidden cameras—but all he got was silence. A silence so thick, it felt like it was pressing down on him, suffocating him with the weight of something sinister.Ezra’s warning echoed in his mind.“She’s waiting for you, Grenville. Don’t be an idiot—it’s a trap.”Dylan had known that before Ezra even said it. Seraphina was many things—vindictive, calculating, ruthless—but careless wasn’t one of them. And leaving her home unguarded? That wasn’t just careless.It was an invitation.A taunt.He sighed, rolling his shoulders, loosening
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139Grenville’s VengeanceDylan stood motionless for a moment, staring at the darkened screen of his phone. His heart pounded against his ribs, and his breath came slow and controlled, but his thoughts were anything but calm.Martin’s words echoed in his head.“This is bigger than you think.”Damn it.Dylan was no fool. He knew Martin better than most—knew his tells, his habits, the subtle shifts in his voice when he was hiding something. And Martin was definitely hiding something. Whether it was out of fear or something else entirely, Dylan didn’t know.But he’d find out.Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he scanned the alley for any sign of movement. The city hummed around him—distant sirens wailing, the occasional flicker of headlights illuminating the wet pavement. Shadows stretched along the brick walls, making the air feel heavier, charged with tension.His instincts screamed at him.Something was wrong.If Martin hadn’t betrayed him, then someone else had. And whoever it
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138Dylan stormed through the dark alley, the cold night air doing little to soothe the boiling fury churning inside him. The world felt wrong, like everything was shifting beneath him. Betrayal hung in the air, suffocating him. His phone, clutched tightly in his hand, seemed almost like a lifeline, a tether to whatever thread of control he still had left.His thumb swiped across the screen, and he dialed Martin’s number without hesitation. He needed answers. His pulse pounded in his ears, and his chest tightened as the phone rang. Once. Twice. A third time.Then finally, the call connected, and Dylan’s blood ran cold at the sound of Martin’s voice.“Yeah?” Martin answered, a slight edge to his voice, but nothing that hinted at the urgency in Dylan’s heart.Dylan’s grip on the phone tightened to the point of pain, his knuckles white. “You better have a damn good explanation, Martin.”There was a brief silence on the other end. Dylan could hear the faint sound of shuffling—like Martin
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137: The Hunt BeginsBut no.Not yet.Dylan’s grip on the knife tightened for a split second before he pulled it away, stepping back. His eyes, dark and unforgiving, stayed locked on Victor.“If I find out you lied to me,” Dylan said, his voice calm but carrying a lethal edge, “I’ll come back. And I won’t be this merciful.”Victor grinned, teeth gleaming under the dim light. “I look forward to it.”Dylan didn’t give him another second. He turned on his heel, disappearing into the night.His hunt wasn’t over.It had just begun.Dylan stormed down the alley, his pulse hammering in his skull. His breaths were sharp, measured—but inside, a storm raged. His fingers shook as he yanked his phone from his pocket, the screen smudged with sweat and dirt.He didn’t hesitate. He dialed.The line rang twice before Ezra picked up.“Boss?”Dylan didn’t waste time. “Track Seraphina.”Ezra paused. “Wait—Seraphina? As in your ex?”Dylan’s jaw locked. “Yes, Ezra. Track her. Now.”Another pause, longer t
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136: Seraphina’s BetrayalThe door behind them splintered as bullets tore through the wood. The deafening blasts sent panicked screams rippling through the casino.Dylan reacted instantly, shoving Victor down and flipping the table for cover just as another hail of bullets shredded the air above them.Shouts and terrified cries filled the air.“Oh my God! They’re shooting!”“Get down! Somebody help!”“What the hell is happening? This is a casino, not a war zone!”Guests ducked beneath tables, some sobbing, others frozen in shock. The roulette wheel spun idly, chips scattered across the floor, forgotten in the chaos. Dealers had long abandoned their stations, diving for cover alongside their customers.A man in a suit clutched his bleeding arm, wailing, “I’ve been shot! Someone call an ambulance!”“They’ve got guns! Who are they after?”Then, cutting through the hysteria, came something that made Dylan’s blood run cold.“Dylan Grenville!”The voice rang out over the chaos, clear and de
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135: The Hunter’s ReturnDylan didn’t make his move right away. He was patient. Watching. Waiting.Victor Castellano sat in the center of his entourage, laughing as if he owned the world. He swirled whiskey in his glass, his rings glinting under the dim casino lights. Every so often, he shot a smug glance across the room, completely unaware that someone was hunting him.Dylan knew better.For nearly an hour, he tracked Victor’s movements. Every sip of whiskey. Every nod to his men. Every flicker of arrogance in his expression.A waiter approached Victor’s table with a fresh bottle, and Victor clinked his glass against the rim before pouring himself another drink. His right-hand man, a burly guy with a scar across his cheek, leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Victor listened, then chuckled, knocking back his drink in one smooth motion.Dylan’s fingers curled into fists. It was time.Victor stretched, cracked his neck, and murmured something to his men before sauntering toward t
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134Dylan stepped over the shattered remnants of his front door, his boots crunching against the broken glass scattered across the floor. The place was a wreck—furniture overturned, papers strewn everywhere, as if someone had deliberately torn through his home in search of something. His jaw clenched, muscles taut with fury as his eyes swept the room. There had to be a clue. Something. Anything.His feet carried him down the hall, straight to her room. The air was thick with dust and lingering perfume, a cruel reminder that she had once been here. His gaze locked onto the desk, where a single red envelope sat neatly, untouched amid the chaos.Dylan’s breath hitched. That emblem. The wax seal bore the unmistakable mark of Victor Castellano.With steady hands, he broke the seal and unfolded the message inside. His eyes skimmed over the words, each letter twisting the knife deeper into his gut.“You shouldn’t have come back. She is safe… for now.”His fingers tightened around the note, c
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128 The air outside the restaurant was thick with tension, but Dylan barely seemed to notice. He and Olivia strolled down the pavement, the streetlights casting a warm glow on the sidewalk. Olivia glanced over her shoulder, her brows slightly furrowed as she took in Bobby and Jane’s expressions—shock, confusion, maybe even fear. “You really have a way of making enemies,” she murmured, though this time, her tone held something new. Uncertainty. Because she had thought she knew Dylan—rich, sure, but not this. Not the kind of power that left people like Bobby and Jane speechless. Dylan smirked. “It’s a gift.” Behind them, Bobby finally seemed to snap out of his stunned silence. His face was still burning with humiliation, but now, beneath the rage, there was something else—doubt. “You think this is over?” he hissed, but his voice wasn’t as strong as before. Dylan didn’t even bother turning around. “You keep saying that, Bobby, but the funny thing is… it kinda feels over.” Olivia
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128 The air outside the restaurant was thick with tension, but Dylan barely seemed to notice. He and Olivia strolled down the pavement, the streetlights casting a warm glow on the sidewalk. Olivia glanced over her shoulder, her brows slightly furrowed as she took in Bobby and Jane’s expressions—shock, confusion, maybe even fear. “You really have a way of making enemies,” she murmured, though this time, her tone held something new. Uncertainty. Because she had thought she knew Dylan—rich, sure, but not this. Not the kind of power that left people like Bobby and Jane speechless. Dylan smirked. “It’s a gift.” Behind them, Bobby finally seemed to snap out of his stunned silence. His face was still burning with humiliation, but now, beneath the rage, there was something else—doubt. “You think this is over?” he hissed, but his voice wasn’t as strong as before. Dylan didn’t even bother turning around. “You keep saying that, Bobby, but the funny thing is… it kinda feels over.” Olivia
