Chapter 5 The King of Death

“No!” Emily answered firmly.

Arthur gripped Emily’s cheeks tightly, then smiled. “Are you sure?” he challenged.

Emily shook her head quickly. Of course she did not want to admit the strange feeling mixed with fear.

“Arthur, let go of me. Aren’t you afraid if Mr. Ethan sees us like this?”

“Afraid? I already told you, I’m not afraid of anyone,” Arthur replied.

When Arthur gently kissed her neck, Emily didn’t understand what was happening to her. Her body reacted strangely, painfully out of control. Slowly, a small sob escaped her lips. Her hands trembled violently, her breathing became erratic, and her face turned pale.

Arthur was clearly startled when he felt Emily’s body trembling badly. Panic flashed through his eyes something rarely seen from him.

“Emily, what’s wrong?” he asked quickly, his voice losing its usual cold tone.

He grabbed both of Emily’s hands tightly, trying to calm the trembling. His palms rubbed her fingers repeatedly, trying to warm her and steady her uncontrollable pulse.

“Sit down!” he ordered shortly.

Emily obeyed, not daring to argue. She slowly sat on the nearest chair, her shoulders still shaking, her breathing not yet steady. The trembling in her hands did not subside.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said softly, a word that had almost never left his lips in his entire life.

Seeing Emily’s condition worsening, Arthur immediately grabbed his phone and called his personal doctor, speaking briefly.

“Do you want to rest in the bedroom?” he asked after ending the call.

Emily slowly shook her head. “Please, just call Mr. Ethan.”

Arthur exhaled, clearly holding back his annoyance. Without waiting for further consent, he lifted Emily’s weakening body.

“Arthur, let go,” Emily protested weakly.

Arthur did not respond. He only made sure his grip was firm and secure, then carried Emily quickly toward his private bedroom.

“Calm down,” he said briefly. “The doctor is on the way.”

Behind his firm demeanor, Arthur’s eyes showed something he could no longer hide concern, for the first time.

Upon reaching the bedroom, Arthur carefully laid Emily on the bed. In her weakness, Emily glanced around. The room was spacious, neat, and elegant far too grand for a guest room.

Emily immediately turned her gaze to Arthur, who was sitting beside her. “Arthur?” she called softly. “Where is Mr. Ethan?”

“He’s busy,” Arthur answered shortly.

Emily nodded faintly. A thin smile formed at the corner of her lips, even though her face was still pale and her body weak.

“Busy?” Emily murmured. “Is that man really Mr. Ethan, or is Arthur actually Mr. Ethan?” she wondered silently.

Emily felt that something was strange about Arthur’s attitude. The man seemed to dominate her, and she was certain something was wrong with all of this.

Not long after, when the doctor arrived and performed a brief examination, the man who usually appeared cold stepped outside the room with the doctor.

“How is she?” he asked flatly.

The doctor smiled faintly. For the first time, the man who usually looked firm and intimidating showed a softer expression he was Ethan, the mafia’s King of Death.

“Don’t worry. Miss Emily is only experiencing trauma. It seems she has been through something quite severe.”

“Trauma?” he repeated, clearly incredulous. “How could a strong girl like her have trauma?”

The sentence stopped when the doctor chose to end the conversation and take his leave rather than argue with the King of Death.

Not wanting to leave Emily alone, he returned to the room and sat by the bed, gazing at Emily as she slept peacefully.

Outside the room, Rudolf and several servants peeked from behind the door, exchanging puzzled looks.

“Rudolf,” one of the servants whispered, “is this a sign that Mr. Ethan has finally softened?”

Rudolf looked toward his master sitting quietly beside Emily. “We’ll see,” he replied briefly.

Rudolf smiled faintly again. The hands that had always held weapons, hands that never hesitated to spill blood, were now moving gently, softly stroking the hair of the fragile girl lying on the bed.

There was a strange silence in the room. Not a frightening silence, but a peaceful one even Rudolf rarely witnessed something this beautiful from a man as cruel as Ethan.

“Hopefully, this really is a good sign,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with hope and emotion.

The cold eyed man’s gaze immediately turned toward Rudolf standing at the doorway. The King of Death then stepped closer, his movements calm.

“Sir,” Rudolf greeted respectfully.

“Rudolf, find out about Miss Emily’s past life. Isn’t she the biological daughter of Mrs. Helena and Mr. Davin?”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll carry it out immediately,” Rudolf replied, bowing respectfully.

After Rudolf left, the room fell silent again. Ethan, the man Emily had been waiting for, sat by her bedside, staring at her pale face in silence.

Slowly, he brushed aside the hair covering Emily’s face, his fingers pausing for a moment, as if reluctant to leave. Her breathing became steady, her pale face slightly calmer.

Just as Ethan was about to withdraw his hand

“Mmm …” Emily groaned softly. Her fingers tightened instead, gripping Ethan’s jacket sleeve as if afraid of being abandoned.

Ethan let out a short breath. He abandoned his intention, then sat back down at the bedside, allowing Emily to continue holding him until her breathing became regular again.

At that moment, Rudolf appeared at the doorway. “Excuse me, Sir.”

Ethan looked up. Rudolf stood upright, his expression serious. His gaze briefly fell on Emily’s hand still gripping Ethan’s tightly before returning to his master.

“What is it?” Ethan asked flatly.

“Sir, I have obtained information about Miss Emily.”

Ethan carefully released Emily’s grip and stood up. He walked to the sofa and sat down slowly, leaning forward, his eyes turning sharp and intimidating.

“Speak!” he ordered.

Rudolf swallowed. “Sir, Miss Emily is not Mrs. Helena’s biological daughter. She is actually Mrs. Helena’s stepdaughter, from Mr. Davin’s first marriage to Mrs. Lesha, Miss Emily’s biological mother.”

“Damn it!” Ethan roared, his fist slamming into the sofa armrest.

“So Mrs. Helena tried to fool me twice,” Ethan continued, his jaw tightening as his anger surged.

“Apparently not, Sir,” Rudolf replied carefully. “This marriage was clearly part of Miss Emily’s own plan. Miss Emily also tried to steal her stepsister’s fiancé, Miss Elina, Mrs. Helena’s biological daughter.”

Ethan’s gaze shifted to Emily sleeping soundly. Her face was pale, her long lashes trembling softly. Something strange stirred in his chest, but anger took over faster.

“So that woman wants the position of lady of this family?” Ethan asked.

“Yes, Sir. According to the information, Miss Emily has always been jealous of her stepsister. She repeatedly hurt Mrs. Helena and her stepsister. She even sold shares of her ex-lover’s company to a rival company,” Rudolf explained.

Ethan clenched his fists tightly, clearly furious at being deceived by a woman.

Slowly, he stood and stepped toward Emily, his face flushed with emotion.

“Wake up!” he barked, roughly pulling Emily’s hand until her body fell to the floor.

Emily, still half asleep, jolted in shock. She immediately pulled herself back, hugging her knees, her eyes wide with fear.

“Arthur?” she said tremblingly, confused. “What are you doing here?”

Ethan gripped Emily’s jaw tightly, forcing her face up. Emily winced, her eyes filling with tears as she endured the pain and fear.

“Arthur, let go!” she cried. “You’re hurting me again.”

That only made Ethan’s grip tighten momentarily before he restrained himself. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling, anger mixed with something he couldn’t understand.

“What is your purpose in coming here?” he asked coldly, sharply, as if interrogating an enemy rather than a woman who had just suffered trauma.

Emily shook her head quickly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” she replied haltingly.

Ethan’s jaw hardened. He released his grip roughly. Emily flinched, her body instinctively curling on the floor, her arms hugging her knees as she trembled in fear.

“Get out!” Ethan ordered shortly.

He then turned sharply toward Rudolf.

“Rudolf, drag this woman out of my room. Lock her in the pavilion. Don’t give her food or water until she admits her mistakes.”

Rudolf’s face tightened, but he bowed obediently. “Yes, Sir.”

“No!” Emily suddenly stood up. She grabbed Ethan’s hand desperately, her fingers gripping tightly as if it were her last hope.

“Arthur, what did I do wrong? Why are you being so cruel?” Her chest heaved. “Aren’t you afraid of Mr. Ethan? He’s my husband …”

Ethan stared at her for a long moment, then the corner of his lips curved coldly. “Ethan, he’s your husband?” he asked sharply. “Then where is that man?”

Emily swallowed. “He, he’s the man who had breakfast with me this morning,” she replied nervously. “He must have gone out now.”

Ethan burst into loud laughter. “Look around you, Emily,” he said, sweeping his hand across the room. “Whose room are you in right now?”

Emily slowly turned her head. Her gaze swept over the walls, then froze when she saw a row of family portraits neatly displayed. The man in the frames had the same cold, firm face as the man standing before her.

“You’re Ethan?” she whispered nervously, her body weakening.