Chapter 3 The Bodyguard’s Game

“Miss Emily!” Arthur called out heavily.

“Who are you really, Arthur?! Why do you dare hurt me?” Emily asked. “Who are you?!” she shouted.

Arthur himself was confused by his own behavior anger that rose without reason, but he realized that his actions had truly frightened Emily. His overwhelming aura of authority, the way every movement carried dominance, made Emily suspicious.

With cautious steps, he moved closer again. “Miss, I did not intend to hurt you.”

“Don’t come any closer!” Emily shouted sharply.

Behind Arthur, Rudolf tried to calm him. He didn’t want the man before him to lose control.

“Sir?”

Arthur glanced at him briefly, signaling with his sharp gaze. Rudolf immediately nodded in understanding and stepped back slightly, leaving space for Arthur and Emily.

Arthur took a slow breath. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow morning, you must meet Mr. Ethan.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and left Emily behind.

Once the room fell silent again, Emily sobbed softly, covering her face with her hands.

“What kind of man will I face next, God?” Emily murmured tiredly.

Let alone touching a man like Arthur or seducing any man at all, she had always protected her honor. Even her heart and dignity had already been shattered by Richard, the lover she trusted, who had betrayed her with her own stepsister.

“Emily, you must be patient. Just one year with Mr. Ethan. After everything ends, you must start a new life.”

Every tear that fell tasted bitter, reminding Emily that the world she had trusted all this time was full of deception, danger, and betrayal.

Meanwhile, in a spacious and luxurious room, a man stood with bloodshot eyes. His fists repeatedly slammed into the wall until his fingers were wounded.

“Damn it! Why did they give me a filthy woman?!” he roared, his voice echoing through the room, sharp with rage, resentment, and dissatisfaction.

The man looked around, his breathing heavy, his eyes burning with anger that was difficult to control.

Behind him, a loyal servant who had accompanied him for years watched in fear.

“Young Master?” he called anxiously.

“Rudolf,” the handsome man said, his eyes blazing, “teach Madam Helena a lesson. She dared to toy with my threat.”

Rudolf nodded quickly, obeying without hesitation. “Yes, Sir. Tonight, we will make sure she receives the lesson she deserves.”

The air in the room instantly felt tense and cold, as if the anger of the man spoken of throughout the city could shatter anything before him. Only Rudolf’s loyalty kept that fury restrained, yet the dangerous aura surrounding them remained terrifying to anyone who witnessed it.

“Emily, just wait. I will turn your life into hell.”

The man stared at his own reflection in the mirror, his eyes tracing every contour of a face few people truly knew only his name and crimes were famous throughout the city.

“A dangerous man, ugly faced, fat. So that’s really how people talk about me out there?” he muttered, half mocking, half challenging the world.

He smiled faintly a cold, tense smile, enough to terrify anyone who saw it.

“Yes, you’re right, Emily,” he said low, heavy, and sharp. “I am the King of Death, the dangerous man. Ethan Pandearthur Limson.”

The mirror seemed to reflect not only his face, but the entire aura of dominance, danger, and power that made everyone around him even the bravest fall silent and swallow their fear.

**

The next morning, one of the servants assigned to prepare Emily’s needs gently knocked on her bedroom door before entering.

Her face looked anxious when the door did not open immediately. But a few minutes later, the door slowly opened, revealing Emily standing there.

“Miss Emily, breakfast has been prepared in the main house. Would you please come with me?” she asked softly, though her worried tone was clear.

Emily quickly shook her head, lowering her gaze and crossing her arms over her chest. “No, I don’t want to go. I want to stay in this pavilion.”

The servant let out a long breath, her expression pleading. “Miss, please come with me. If you don’t, you may get into trouble with Mr. Ethan, so will we servants. Mr. Ethan does not like his rules being disobeyed.”

Emily looked at the servant for a moment, her breathing still heavy. Her heart wanted to refuse, but the servant’s words and the looming image of Mr. Ethan made her realize there was no room to oppose him, no matter how small the act.

“Alright,” Emily murmured in resignation.

She walked nervously into the main house, every step feeling heavy, as if she were entering a space filled with watchful eyes and surveillance.

“What’s your name?” Emily asked, turning to the servant walking beside her.

“My name is Anita, Miss,” the servant replied politely, her face showing a mix of respect and worry.

Emily frowned slightly. “Just call me Emily.”

The servant bowed her head a little, her voice hesitant. “I’m sorry, Miss. I can’t. Young Master Ethan ordered me to address you that way.”

Emily let out a long sigh, trying to suppress her frustration. “Such strange rules. Fine, do whatever you want,” she muttered softly.

Emily arrived at the dining room. Various delicious dishes were neatly arranged on the long table, their aroma filling the room.

She stood there, glancing left and right, trying to find the face that had sparked her curiosity. But only a few servants were busy arranging the table.

“Huh … where is Mr. Ethan? I’m really curious how ugly is his face?” she murmured softly.

Her heart pounded rapidly. She felt alone in the middle of this grand yet unfamiliar space.

As she was about to sit down, the dining room door slowly opened. A fat man entered, his steps heavy, his sharp gaze radiating a frightening aura.

Emily swallowed hard, her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes locked onto the man. “My God, is that man really Mr. Ethan? So … he’s my husband?” she murmured softly, her body almost unable to support itself.

The man before her was short, with a protruding belly and a thick mustache.

“Aunt Helena, what kind of man have you given me?” Emily said in disbelief.

At that moment, Arthur slowly stepped into the dining room. Emily’s gaze immediately turned to him the man who had kept her awake the night before, whose cold aura still lingered in her mind.

Without realizing it, Emily stepped forward and grabbed the hand of the fat man standing near the table.

“My husband, please have a seat!” she said in a strange tone, a mix of nervousness and boldness.

The fat man looked startled. His eyes darted around, shifting between Emily and Arthur, confusion clearly written on his face.

“Miss, I am not …?” he stammered, uncertain and anxious.

Arthur stepped forward, his gaze sharpening toward the fat man. “Mr. Ethan, please have a seat,” he commanded firmly cold and authoritative.

Everyone in the dining room stared in confusion, unable to understand what was happening. The guards, the servants, even the fat man himself looked stunned, realizing there was a shocking mix up of identities.

Meanwhile, Emily busied herself serving the food, trying to calm herself and hide her nervousness.

On the other side, Arthur smiled faintly a cold smile filled with satisfaction. “Fool,” he muttered softly.