The Paramount Warlord

Chapter 8

Frank, unable to win over Monroe, had resorted to such despicable means—it was truly disgraceful and contemptible.

Suppressing the fury that burned in his chest, Whitney said, his voice cold, "Good thing I came back in time. Otherwise, Monroe and Jenny would have been dragged into a nightmare worse than hell."

Noticing the tension in his tone and the storm brewing in his eyes, Kenson quickly interjected, "General, don't worry. I'll get to the bottom of this. If the Edwards family is behind it, I'll make sure they regret the day they were born."

A minute later, Kenson returned, his expression grim. "General, we've identified the culprit. The instigator is Mary Holtz Edwards, the young mistress of the Edwards family. That vile woman truly deserves to die."

Whitney's brows knit together. "On her own, she wouldn't have the power to manipulate the media. Someone else must be pulling the strings."

Kenson frowned, his mind racing as he pieced things together. "General, are you suggesting the mastermind is the Holtz family?"

Whitney let out a sharp, derisive laugh. "Who else could it be? The Holtzs, since you've chosen to collude with Mary, you shouldn't expect mercy from me."

Her voice turned icy, each word laced with menace. The sharpness in her expression sent a chill through the air, making even those around her feel a shiver of unease.

***

Meanwhile, in Philadelphia, at the Edwards family estate, Mary Holtz Edwards, dressed in an elegant gown that only emphasized her commanding presence, was glaring daggers at Frank. Her tone was venomous as she spat, "Well, Frank, you've really grown bold, haven't you? Sneaking around behind my back with another woman? Who gave you the nerve?"

Her lips curled into a sneer. "What's wrong? Am I not good enough for you? Or do you just enjoy chasing after trash?"

The Holtz family was one of the most powerful in the region, far surpassing the Edwards family in influence. Even as Mary's words sliced into him, Frank didn't dare to argue. Instead, he plastered a nervous smile on his face and tried to placate her. "Please, calm down, my lady. You're the only one for me. How could I possibly have anything to do with another woman?"

Eager to explain himself, Frank added, "It's all because Mr. Gray Holtz took a liking to that woman. I thought she was attractive enough, so I figured I'd arrange for her to end up in his bed."

Monroe was, by all accounts, stunning. Her beauty was unrivaled in Philadelphia—both her figure and her face were considered top-tier.

Mary scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. "Her? Does she think she's worthy of climbing into my brother's bed? Does she even deserve to dream of it?"

To Mary, Monroe was nothing more than a lowly tramp. Forget her brother—she wasn't even good enough to catch the attention of the Holtz family's gardeners.

"Yes, yes, you're absolutely right, my lady," Frank said, nodding eagerly and slapping himself on the face in a show of self-punishment. "That tramp is completely unworthy of your brother." He wrapped an arm around Mary's waist, his tone turning ingratiating. "Alright, my dear. If you're still upset, I'll have someone bring that tramp here right away. You can deal with her however you like. Oh, and she has a daughter—Jenny Brown, a real beauty. How about we sell her off to Little Saint James Island? I've heard the big shots there have a particular fondness for young girls."

Mary shot him a cold glance, her lips curling into a sinister smile. Her voice was icy as she said, "Do I really need you to teach me how to handle something so trivial?"

She leaned back slightly, her tone laced with venom. "I've already sent someone to take care of it. That wench dared to seduce my man—how could I possibly let her off so easily? And it's not just her. Even her daughter will suffer a fate worse than death."

Her chilling words echoed through the grand hall of the manor, sending a shiver through the air. But suddenly, a loud crash erupted from the main gate. The sound of splintering wood and the forceful bang of the doors being kicked open reverberated through the estate.

Mary's head snapped toward the entrance, her anger flaring. Assuming it was one of the manor's servants acting recklessly, she shouted sharply, "Don't you know how to knock?" But the words had barely left her mouth when she froze. A man with a resolute expression and a commanding presence strode into the room, his steps purposeful and unyielding.

Her brows furrowed in irritation as she demanded, "Who are you? How dare you trespass on my territory?"

The question made Whitney let out a low, humorless laugh.

His eyes were dark and stormy, his gaze piercing as he answered coldly, "Since you don't know who I am, let me spell it out for you. I am Monroe's husband, Jenny's father, and the man who's here to destroy the Edwards family and the Holtz family. Now, do you understand who I am?"

His voice was steady, each word delivered with the force of a hammer, reverberating through the room like a thunderclap.

For a moment, Mary and her companion were stunned into silence. Then, as if on cue, they burst into laughter. Mary, in particular, laughed with a sharp, icy edge, her expression mocking. "So that's who you are," she sneered. "Turns out you're just that wench's pathetic little man."

"And you dare to barge into my manor? Who gave you the guts?" Her gaze swept over Whitney's plain attire, and she smirked, her confidence unshaken. She waved a hand dismissively, her voice cold and commanding. "Someone, come here! Tie this b*stard up. I'll deal with him myself!"