He Dug My Daughter’s Grave, I Sent Him to the Arena

Adrian clenched his jaw, the muscles in his face tightening as he stared at me. "You really think I'm still afraid of you?" he asked. The years had changed him. After rising to the top of the syndicate, he had long since shed the humility and desperation he once carried. Power suited him. Every year, his authority grew stronger, and fewer people dared challenge him. Unfortunately for him, I wasn't one of those people. I let out a quiet laugh and leaned back in my chair. "If you're wasting your time threatening me, Adrian," I said, "you'd be better off doing something useful." Before he could respond, I pressed a button. The massive screen behind me lit up. Adrian's eyes immediately snapped toward it. For the first time since entering the room, genuine panic flashed across his face. The footage displayed exactly what he feared most. Chloe Hart. His precious Chloe. She was hanging over the edge of a coastal cliff, dressed in nothing but her undergarments. A thin rope wrapped around her waist suspended her hundreds of feet above the rocks below. Every gust of wind made her tremble. Every tremble made the rope sway. I calmly folded my hands in my lap. "Go ahead and try burying me alive," I said. Adrian took a step forward, his knuckles turning white. I gestured toward the screen. "The moment a single grain of dirt touches my dress, your precious Chloe will become a falling star." My smile widened. I tilted my head, watching his expression crumble. "And wouldn't that be interesting? A mother is dead, and her son is missing. Quite the tragedy." Adrian's eyes filled with murderous intent. His hand moved instinctively to the pistol holstered at his waist. "Seraphina..." he growled. "If anything happens to Chloe or my son, you won't walk away from this." I scoffed. The bodyguards behind me immediately drew their weapons. Within seconds, half a dozen gun barrels were aimed directly at Adrian. The atmosphere became suffocating. One wrong move and the room would erupt into violence. Yet I remained perfectly calm. I raised my hand. "Lower your guns." My men obeyed instantly. Then my smile disappeared. Before Adrian could react, I drew my own pistol. Bang. The shot echoed through the room. The bullet shattered his kneecap. Adrian collapsed to the floor with a grunt, sweat instantly breaking across his forehead. Despite the pain, he still managed to raise his weapon and point it at me. I slowly stood. "Adrian Blackwell," I said coldly. "That's the price of pointing a gun at me." For several seconds, neither of us moved. Eventually, Adrian lowered his weapon. Blood streamed down his leg and pooled beneath him. His voice was colder than winter. "Can I have them back now?" I studied him in silence. Then he added, "Chloe is innocent. She's never lived through violence or bloodshed. She's nothing like you." I didn't bother responding. Instead, I watched his attention shift back to the screen. His men had finally reached Chloe. Within moments, they pulled her to safety. The instant he saw she was alive, the tension seemed to leave his shoulders. Ignoring the blood pouring from his leg, Adrian forced himself to stand. Then he staggered toward the exit. I knew exactly where he was going. He wanted to be there when Chloe woke up. He wanted her first sight to be him. He wanted to comfort her before fear could settle in. I watched his retreating figure disappear through the doorway. Then I leaned back in my chair. For some reason, I suddenly found the entire situation boring.