Chapter 589: Chapter-589
Heena reached out, her cold fingers gently tapping the side of the Third Wife’s neck. "Can you do that? Can you play the pitiful, traumatized victim?"
A dark, bitter smile slowly spread across the Third Wife’s face.
"My Lady," the woman whispered, her eyes flashing with venom. "I have been playing the pitiful victim for three years. It is the only thing I am truly an expert at."
"Good," Heena nodded, finally satisfied.
Before she could say another word, a sudden, terrifying shift in the air pressure violently swept through the courtyard outside. It was a suffocating, overwhelming aura of absolute, murderous rage—far heavier and far colder than the bloodlust of the shadow guards.
The System instantly threw itself behind Heena’s head. "Uh-oh. Incoming boss monster."
BOOM!
The splintered remnants of the pavilion’s front doors were entirely obliterated, blown inward by a ferocious kick that shattered the heavy oak into literal toothpicks.
The Third Wife let out a terrified scream, dropping to the floor and covering her head.
Heena didn’t flinch. She simply turned her head toward the ruined entrance.
Stepping through the dust and flying splinters was a man radiating an aura of pure, unadulterated death. His immaculate, dark ceremonial robes were billowing around him, and his usually perfectly styled hair was slightly unkempt from moving at breakneck speed.
It was Samuel.
His golden eyes, usually filled with calculating amusement or arrogant mockery, were now entirely blown out, burning with a frantic, demonic panic. In his hand, he gripped a long, unsheathed sword that was literally dripping with fresh blood—likely from whatever unfortunate Prime Minister’s guards had tried to block his path.
He stopped dead in his tracks. His chest heaved as his wild, golden eyes swept across the ruined room, past the terrified Third Wife on the floor, and finally locked onto Heena.
Seeing her standing there—soaked to the bone in freezing water, her elegant champagne robes torn, her pale skin bruised, and covered in splatters of other people’s blood—Samuel’s expression shattered.
The elegant, untouchable noble lord vanished.
"Wife," Samuel breathed, his voice cracking with a raw, desperate terror that completely shocked her.
Samuel dropped his blood-soaked sword onto the floorboards with a heavy, metallic clang. He crossed the distance in two massive strides, his arms reaching out to violently pull his dripping, blood-stained wife into a desperate embrace.
Heena took one look at the bloody sword rolling across the Emperor’s floorboards and literally slapped her own forehead in sheer exasperation.
’Damn it, this bastard!’
Instead of melting into his romantic, tearful embrace, Heena’s eyes flared with absolute, unadulterated fury. As Samuel closed the distance, she stepped aggressively forward, grabbed him by the lapels of his immaculate ceremonial collar, pulled him down, and punched him squarely in the chest.
Thwack!
Samuel, completely unprepared for an attack from the woman he thought was dying, let out a choked gasp of shock.
But even as the punch landed, his body simply moved on its own. Ignoring the strike entirely, his massive arms wrapped around her soaked, freezing frame, pulling her flush against his chest in a bone-crushing hug.
Heena didn’t stop fighting. She squirmed in his iron grip, raising her fist and hitting him hard on the shoulder once, then twice, completely destroying the emotional atmosphere of the room.
"Have you gone crazy, dear?!" Heena hissed furiously, her raspy voice echoing in the ruined pavilion. "To enter the Emperor’s inner palace with a drawn sword?! What, do you want us all to be executed for treason, you damn bastard?!"
She had literally just spent the last ten minutes meticulously dissolving three corpses into sludge just to avoid leaving evidence, and here her idiot husband was, kicking down doors and leaving a trail of blood in the imperial harem!
Samuel didn’t care about the treason. He didn’t care about the Emperor, the Prime Minister, or the shadow guards outside. He didn’t even care that his wife was currently beating him like a training dummy.
He just buried his face into the crook of her neck, his breath coming in ragged, shuddering gasps against her damp, cold skin.
"Thank God," Samuel whispered, his voice trembling so violently it vibrated against her collarbone. "Thank God you’re okay."
Heena raised her hand to hit him a third time, but the sheer, crushing desperation in his grip made her freeze. Samuel was holding her so tightly it actually hurt, his massive frame shivering as the paralyzing terror of the last hour finally crashed down on him.
"Thank God," he repeated blindly, completely ignoring her insults. He pressed his face deeper into her wet hair, regardless of the freezing water and the smell of blood. "I was so worried. I thought... I thought I was too late."
Hovering near the ceiling, the System sniffled loudly, wiping a digital tear from its pixelated eyes. "Wow. He completely bypassed the Vanguard aggression and went straight for the emotional critical hit. 10/10 husband material."
Heena’s raised fist hovered in the air for a long moment. She let out a heavy, incredibly annoyed sigh, but the freezing fury in her fox-like eyes slowly melted away.
She lowered her hand, her fingers slowly unclenching from his ruined collar. Very awkwardly, and with all the grace of a rusty military weapon, she patted him twice on his broad back.
"I am fine," Heena muttered, trying and failing to sound intimidating. "Now let go of me. You are ruining my plan."
Samuel finally pulled back, though his large hands remained firmly clamped on her shoulders, as if terrified she might vanish into thin air if he let go.
The frantic haze of panic in his golden eyes began to recede, replaced instantly by the sharp, terrifying analytical gaze of a predator assessing its wounded mate. He looked at her thoroughly, his expression darkening with every passing second.
Her beautiful champagne robes were completely ruined, soaked in freezing, foul-smelling water. Her collar was torn open, exposing the dark, ugly bruising on her collarbone and the faint prick of blood at the base of her neck where the silver needle had pierced her. And then there was the smell—a grotesque mixture of stagnant water, raw copper blood, and the faint, acrid lingering scent of corpse-dissolving powder.
Samuel’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle feathered in his cheek.
"You’re freezing," he growled, his voice dropping an octave into a terrifying, deadly register. He immediately shrugged off his heavy, immaculate outer ceremonial cloak and wrapped it tightly around her wet, shivering shoulders.
"I am fine, Samuel," Heena sighed, pulling the warm cloak tighter around herself despite her complaints. "I handled it."
"You handled it?" Samuel repeated, his golden eyes flashing with a terrifying, contained fury. "You were missing for an hour, seera. The Prime Minister’s personal guard locked down the entire western wing. I find you soaked in blood in a ruined bathroom, and you tell me you handled it?!"
"I did," Heena retorted, glaring right back at him. "The three assassins who cornered me are currently sloshing around in the drainage pipes under these floorboards. And if you hadn’t come in here kicking down doors like a deranged bandit, we could have slipped out quietly!"
Samuel’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the assassins. He scanned the ruined room again, his gaze suddenly snapping past Heena and landing on the corner.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter