Chapter 18 Spoiled Delinquent
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Jacob Kane, the second most powerful figure in the Kanes after their patriarch, a man who had held a position of authority for years, now lay sobbing uncontrollably, his dignity completely shattered. Tears streamed down his face, accompanied by an embarrassing display of sniffling.
“But my coffin was custom–made–massive! It could fit the entire Kane bloodline in it!” Ryan said earnestly, his tone eerily casual.
Then, without any warning.
Bang!
Ryan raised his
right leg, swift and precise.
The movement was so fast that it didn’t even take a breath to complete. No one even saw a blur- it was as if time skipped ahead–until his foot collided with Jacob’s neck.
Crack!
The sound of bones snapping echoed sharply through the silent hall, sending shivers down everyone’s spine.
Ryan’s kick had cleanly snapped Jacob’s neck. The sheer force behind it was terrifying.
Jacob was dead.
“Ah!” Logan and the others, including Joel, were paralyzed with fear. Their terrified screams filled the hall as they clutched their heads, scrambling backward on the stage in a pitiful attempt to
escape.
After
killing Jacob, Ryan stood there as if he had just completed a mundane chore. He turned his gaze toward Logan and Joel.
“No!” Joel nearly fainted from fright. In a panic, he dropped to his knees, bowing repeatedly with such force that his forehead started bleeding, yet he seemed numb to the pain.
He turned desperately to Abigail, who stood frozen in shock on the stage. “Abigail, save me! Please! I’m begging you!” Joel wailed, tears streaming down his face.
To him, Abigail was his last lifeline..
Abigail, who had been struck dumb by the unfolding events, finally snapped out of her stupor, only to be consumed by terror and helplessness.
She didn’t know how to save him.
Since Ryan had come up on stage, he hadn’t spared her even a glance.
Chapter 18 Spoiled Delinquent
enough to hate her. To him, she was a stranger.
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Biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, Abigail’s trembling figure swayed. Her heart ached so much it was unbearable. If it weren’t for Linda Spencer holding her up, she might have collapsed.
“Abigail, don’t be too upset. You still have a chance,” Linda whispered, trying to console her. “You never accepted Joel’s advances, and you’ve stayed faithful to Ryan for the past three years. That alone gives you hope. Once Ryan calms down, you can explain everything to him. After all, you two used to love each other deeply.” Linda understood Abigail’s pain and regret.
In truth, seeing Ryan now, commanding the room and crushing the Kanes while intimidating the Solomons, she and the Xanders couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of regret as well.
But regret was useless.
The only solace was what Linda had just said–Abigail still had a sliver of hope.
A faint glimmer of light returned to Abigail’s dim eyes.
Meanwhile, the faint sound of footsteps echoed. Ryan’s deliberate pace was eerily jarring, like the sound of Death dragging its scythe across the ground.
He walked toward Logan.
Logan, utterly defeated, no longer even tried to plead for his life. He simply shook his head, resigned to his fate.
But just as Ryan approached Logan….
Suddenly!
“What’s going on here?” A curious and carefree voice broke the oppressive tension hanging over
the room.
The grand doors to the hall swung open.
A young man strutted in, flanked by two flamboyantly dressed women, each hanging off one of his arms. His appearance was striking, if eccentric–his hair dyed purple, a toothpick dangling from his lips, and a face that, while handsome, was pale and drained, a testament to years of indulgence.
Mark Eaton, the third son of the Eatons of Aetheria, a notorious playboy, had arrived.
Joel, why are you kneeling on the ground?” Mark asked, letting go of the woman as he tossed the toothpick from his mouth. He walked toward the stage, his brows raised in confusion.
“Mr. Eaton, save me! Please!” Joel screamed, his voice raw with desperation. He clawed at the air like a drowning man grasping for a lifeline.
Chapter 18 Spoiled Delinquent
sparked a flicker of hope.
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“You there! If I’m not mistaken, you’re bullying my friend,” Mark declared as he climbed onto the stage. Standing in front of Ryan, he tilted his head back arrogantly, a sly grin curling at his lips. “You’ve got guts messing with my buddy, and on his wedding day, no less. I have to say, Ladmire your courage.
Though Mark was the third son of the illustrious Eatons, his demeanor at the moment was more akin to that of a street thug
From his cocky tone to his gaudy outfit and his brazen attitude, he exuded the air of a spoiled delinquent rather than someone of high status.
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