Chapter 7 I will be back for you.
Landon stood firm as Kieran moved forward like a reaper stalking his next soul. The man’s boots clicked against the marble floor with every deliberate step, his cold eyes sizing Nathaniel up like he was already a corpse waiting to be carved.
He stopped just a few feet away, tilted his head, and gave a faint smile.
“You’ve got a sharp face,” Kieran said calmly. “A shame, really… but I’m just doing a job. Everyone needs money.”
Behind Landon, Carter tensed hard and took one step forward.
“Carter—” Nathaniel snapped sharply, not even glancing back. “Don’t.”
Kieran raised an eyebrow. “Loyal dog.” He let out a low chuckle. “But this is between us.”
Then, without warning, he stepped in.
His fist shot forward like lightning, aimed straight at Landon’s ribs. The blow looked fast, but his posture was sloppy—he wasn’t using full strength, clearly underestimating his target.
Big mistake.
Crack.
Landon’s hand snapped up and caught the fist midair. Kieran’s knuckles slammed into his palm and stopped dead, like punching solid steel.
The entire room exhaled in pure disbelief.
Kieran’s calm face twisted—first confusion, then pain flashed in his eyes as Landon’s grip tightened like a vice.
Landon leaned in closer, his voice cold and steady. “Is this the best you can do?”
The matriarch’s eyes widened in shock. Luther’s smug grin collapsed into a nervous twitch. Gasps ripped through the hall.
“Did… did he just catch that?” someone whispered.
“No way. He didn’t even flinch.”
“That’s Kieran Raze! How the hell did he stop him?!”
Landon didn’t let go.
Kieran tried to pull back, but his arm trembled under the crushing grip.
Landon tightened his hold even more.
“Tch—” Kieran hissed through clenched teeth.
With one powerful shove,Landon sent him flying back. Kieran’s boots scraped across the floor for several feet before he stumbled and barely regained his balance.
The whispers in the hall exploded into full murmurs.
“What the hell is going on?”
“How can someone this young overpower him?”
“Is he even human?”
“This boy… who the hell is he really?”
Kieran snarled, his pride shattered. His face twisted with raw fury. “I underestimated you…” he growled, voice dropping dangerously low. “But not again.”
He lunged forward with everything he had. His movements blurred, cutting through the air with deadly force. He threw a full-power punch meant to crush bones and end lives.
Landon met him head-on.
Their arms collided with a loud smack. Kieran’s eyes widened in shock.
Boom.
Landon’s right fist rocketed forward and slammed dead center into Kieran’s chest.
The Widowmaker flew backward like a broken doll. His body crashed hard into the far wall. The sickening crack of bone echoed through the hall as his skull smashed against the marble.
Then… silence.
Kieran didn’t move.
One of the guards rushed over, hands shaking as he dropped to his knees. He checked for a pulse, then breath. Slowly, the guard turned around, face pale as death.
“He’s… he’s not breathing.”
The entire hall froze.
Landon stood tall as the room exploded into pure chaos.
Chairs screeched against the floor as everyone shot to their feet at once. Women screamed. One lady gasped and dropped her wine glass, the crash ringing out sharply. People stumbled backward, staring at Landon like he was death walking among them.
“He’s dead—Kieran Raze is dead!”
“With one punch?!”
“What the hell is that boy?!”
“This can’t be real. He just killed a living weapon!”
The matriarch stayed silent. Her knuckles turned bone-white as she gripped the armrest of her seat. Her fingers trembled slightly, but she didn’t move.
Landon stepped over the shattered glass and bloodstains on the floor, walking straight toward her. He stopped just a few feet away.
“Can we start our conversation now?” he asked, his tone sharp and cutting.
She said nothing. Her lips parted, but no words came out.
“I’ll stop here tonight,” Landon continued coldly. “But I’ll be back.”
He let his gaze burn into her. “The next time I return, I expect answers. I want to know exactly what happened to Ethan Cross. Who was involved. And why.”
He turned away and started walking toward the exit.
But just before he reached the threshold, he paused. Slowly, he turned back. His eyes landed on the scene near the wall.
Isabelle was crouched over Kieran’s lifeless body, her face streaked with tears. Beside her, Luther stood frozen, jaw clenched tight.
Landon looked between them and let the words fly like poisoned arrows.
“I curse this engagement,” he said, voice loud enough for the entire hall to hear. “It’s built on blood, betrayal, and rot. Let it die the way your conscience already has.”
Landon turned and walked out without a backward glance.
“You think you’ve won, beggar prince?” Luther’s voice chased him from the doorway, dripping with venom. “You’re just a shadow trying to fight the sun. Be careful before you burn.”
Landon ignored him completely and kept walking.
Outside, Carter waited by the black car, hands moving quickly as he opened the rear door with quiet respect. Landon slid inside. Carter closed it smoothly, then got behind the wheel. The engine hummed to life, and they pulled away from the Cross mansion.
As the car sped down the long driveway, Landon noticed Carter glancing at him constantly through the rearview mirror.
He tilted his head and broke the silence. “Whatever you have to say, say it. Don’t chew on it.”
Carter exhaled heavily. “Why did we leave? They were shaken, Landon. We had them on their knees. We could’ve pressed harder and forced answers tonight.”
Landon smiled faintly. “Because you don’t crush a snake by stomping on its tail. You follow it. Let it believe it’s safe. And when it thinks you’ve lost its trail… you strike the head.”
Carter stayed quiet for a moment, absorbing the words.
“I don’t have enough evidence yet,” Landon continued. “Not enough to bury them. But people guarding secrets always slip when they panic. I just ripped their comfort to shreds. Now they’ll start making mistakes.”
He leaned back slightly. “You don’t defeat enemies with brute force alone, Carter. You defeat them by making them reveal themselves. Shake the tree hard enough, and the rotten fruit always falls.”
Carter nodded slowly, gripping the steeringwheel tighter. “Forgive me, Landon, for my short-sightedness. I should’ve seen it clearer.”
Landon didn’t reply right away. The car continued down the dark road, the mansion shrinking in the distance.
“Where should I drive you now?” Carter asked, his voice steadier. “Should I take you home? Miss Evelyn must already know about your arrival.”
Nathaniel stepped out of the car with the box of chocolates in his hand. Home. That single word echoed in his head like a distant gunshot.
Evelyn was his wife. Ten long years had passed since they last spoke properly. He had left for the border, commanding a unit so close to hell that soldiers wrote their wills before every patrol. While he was out there fighting for survival, she had given birth to their daughter alone.
And she never once visited. She stopped replying to his letters. Even when rumors spread that he might not return alive, she stayed silent.
His daughter was ten years old now. Ten. He had never seen her face. Never heard her laugh. Never knew what made her smile or what scared her at night.
What kind of father didn’t even know the color of his own daughter’s eyes?
“Sir?” Carter’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Should I drive you home?”
Nathaniel blinked and nodded. “Did you get the chocolate I asked for?”
“Yes, sir. Bought it right before picking you up from the airport.”
“Good.” Nathaniel gave a small nod. “Take me home.”
The drive passed in heavy silence, broken only by the low hum of the engine. Streetlights flickered across the windows as the city blurred past.
When they finally arrived, Carter pulled up smoothly in front of the tall iron gates. He turned slightly in his seat.
“Goodnight, Major General.”
“Goodnight, Carter,” Landon replied quietly. He stepped out, the chocolate box firm in his grip, and walked toward the entrance.
Landon waited until Carter drove off before pushing open the front door and stepping inside.
Silence swallowed him whole.
He placed the box of chocolates on the table and sank into the nearest chair. His eyes scanned the familiar yet strangely foreign living room. Then they landed on the wall.
Framed photos covered it neatly. Evelyn smiling in most of them, looking elegant and strong. Beside her in every picture stood a young girl with dark hair and bright, innocent eyes.
His daughter.
Landon stood up slowly and walked toward the wall. He reached out, fingers brushing the glass of one frame, wanting a closer look.
Click.
The unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked froze him.
He turned around slowly.
Evelyn stood there in the hallway shadows, gripping a pistol with both hands. Her eyes were ice cold, and her finger hovered dangerously close to the trigger.
“…Evelyn,” Landon said quietly.
“Don’t come closer,” she snapped, voice sharp as a blade. “If you do, I won’t hesitate to shoot.”
