The Paramount Warlord

Chapter 5

"No, no, it's not like that! Mr. Brown, please, I'm begging you! Let me go! I was blinded by lust, I admit it! I swear I'll never do anything like this again!" Kevin struggled desperately, his voice hoarse as he pleaded for his life.

"You're lying." A cold gleam flickered in Whitney's eyes, sharp and merciless, cutting through Kevin's frantic cries like a blade. He tightened his grip around Kevin's neck, his fingers like a steel vice. "If you're so eager to die, I'll gladly grant your wish."

The pressure on Kevin's throat increased. A little more force and even a neck of iron would snap like a twig.

"No! Don't kill me! I'll confess! I'll tell you everything!" Kevin's voice cracked with desperation as he felt his life slipping away. The fear of death shattered what little resolve he had left. "It was Mary—Mary Edwards, the young mistress of the Edwards family! She's the one who told me to do it!" His words tumbled out in a rush, his panic overriding any loyalty to the powerful family. Whatever the Edwards' influence, it was nothing compared to the terror Whitney instilled in him.

Whitney's cold, unfeeling gaze remained fixed on Kevin. His voice was sharp as he asked, "Mary? I've never crossed her. Why would she target my wife and daughter?"

"I-I don't know!" Kevin stammered, his words tripping over themselves in his panic. "The Edwards family is too powerful for someone like me to question! I'm just a small fry—I wouldn't know their reasons!"

Whitney's grip didn't loosen, but Kevin's eyes darted wildly as he scrambled to remember something.

Suddenly, a thought struck him. "Wait! Last Sunday! I remember! I saw Frank confessing his love to Miss Miller. I saw it with my own eyes! He tried to force her to go to a hotel with him..."

Whitney's eyes darkened, his fury reigniting like wildfire. His voice was low and dangerous as he ground out, "And then?"

"She refused! She fought back! She even pulled out a dagger to defend herself!" Kevin blurted, his words spilling over one another. "Mary was there—she saw the whole thing. I think... I think she must've gotten jealous. So she decided to take it out on her..."

Whitney's face grew darker with every word.

Instead of blaming Frank for his mistake, Mary shifted all the blame onto Monroe. She even had Monroe r*ped. That was unbearable.

His jaw clenched, and his fists tightened until the sound of his bones grinding together filled the air.

"Frank, Mary," Whitney said, his voice as cold as the void. "You dared to hurt my woman? You'll wish you were dead."

A terrifying aura erupted from Whitney, rising like a dark storm, suffocating and oppressive. It was as though a demon had descended, and the room itself seemed to shrink under his presence.

Kevin's face turned ghostly pale, his body trembling uncontrollably. His voice quivered as he begged, "Mr. Brown, I swear I've told you everything! I'm innocent! Please, please let me go!"

Whitney's lips curled into a sneer. "You dare to claim innocence after what you've done to my wife and daughter? Do you dare to beg for mercy? You've got some nerve."

His voice dropped. "You crossed the line and you're finished."

"If you'd come after me, we might've had something to talk about. But you shouldn't have touched my wife and my daughter." Whitney's voice grew colder, each word laced with finality. "For that, you die today."

As the last word fell, streaks of blue lightning crackled to life, dancing along Whitney's fingers as they tightened around Kevin's neck.

Kevin's eyes widened in terror as a sharp, stabbing pain shot through his neck. It felt like countless needles piercing his skin.

The pain burrowed deeper, slicing through his muscles, his bones, and finally into his very marrow. The excruciating torment was unbearable, and Kevin's screams tore through the air.

"No, no! Please, I'm begging you! Spare me! I don't want to die!" Kevin's pleas were frantic. But before he could say another word, the lightning surged, spreading from his neck to his entire body. In an instant, Kevin's form was engulfed in crackling blue arcs of electricity. His body convulsed violently, the sound of sparking and crackling filling the room.

With a final pop, the lightning dissipated. Kevin's body disintegrated, leaving behind only a faint smell of scorched flesh and a small pile of ashes.

A gentle breeze swept through the room, scattering the ashes into the air. Kevin was gone, erased from existence.

"Monroe, Monroe, are you okay?" After finishing off the remaining enemies, Whitney rushed into the room, his voice filled with urgency.

Both Monroe and Jenny lay unconscious, their faces pale and lifeless.

Without wasting a second, Whitney carefully dressed them. Then, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small purple bottle engraved with intricate, ancient patterns.

The bottle was half-filled with a thick, crimson liquid.

A thin layer of red mist swirled above the surface like a delicate crimson cloud floating over a sea of blood. The sight was both mesmerizing and mysterious.

"Seven years ago, when I left Philadelphia, my plane went down, and I found myself stranded in the Devil's Triangle. The world calls it a graveyard of death, but they have no idea what lies beneath those cursed waters. Beneath the depths, hidden away, is the legacy of ancient sorcerers." He paused, his eyes dark with memory. "It was there that I learned the secrets of ancient sorcery. Using their methods, I crafted this life elixir. It absorbs the very essence of the ocean. Just a single drop can heal even the gravest wounds... even bring someone back from the brink of death."

This elixir was one of the reasons Whitney had become a legend on the battlefields of the Middle East. His mastery of ancient sorcery had allowed him to dominate even the most powerful forces, forcing leaders to bow before him.

Carefully, Whitney uncorked the bottle and tilted it, letting a few drops of the elixir fall gently into Monroe and Jenny's mouths. The moment the red liquid touched their lips, their pale complexions began to improve. A faint flush of color returned to their cheeks, and their breathing became steady. Though they hadn't woken yet, Whitney could tell it was only a matter of time.

Relieved, Whitney finally allowed himself a moment to truly look at his daughter.

Jenny's delicate features tugged at his heart. Though she was still young, her nose, eyes, and mouth bore a striking resemblance to his own—seventy, maybe even eighty percent similar.

"I have a daughter. I've spent half my life on battlefields, and I actually have a daughter..." Overwhelmed, he gently cradled Jenny in his arms, holding her close. Tears welled in his eyes before spilling down his cheeks.

For so many years, he had been stationed in the Middle East, unable to protect or care for his wife and child. But now, he was back, and he silently vowed to make up for all the lost time.

His gaze shifted to Monroe, who lay unconscious beside him. Guilt clawed at his chest, tightening with every passing second.

"Monroe, I've let you down for seven long years. But now, I've returned," he continued. "I've returned victorious, and I swear to you—no one will ever hurt you again. I'll protect you with everything I have. I'll make you the happiest woman in the world." He glanced down at Jenny and gently stroked Monroe's hair, his voice full of affection. "And our daughter... I'll cherish her with all my heart. I'll make sure she grows up safe, happy, and carefree. She'll never know pain or fear again."