Jeremiah listened to Gloria's words, lowering his eyes. His voice, deep and somber, carried a hint of wounded pride. "Are you saying she's undeserving of an apology, or that my girlfriend isn't good enough for me?"

Eleanore and the other women vehemently shook their heads. "Mr. Chavez, that's not what we meant. We just believe someone as honorable as you deserves a woman like Samantha. We meant no disrespect."

"Yes, Mr. Chavez," another chimed in. "We were merely talking, and Aurora has already reprimanded us."

"Yes, we won't say anything more. Please don't hold this against us. You're a major; a small issue like this could damage your reputation."

Eleanore bit her lip, frustration evident. "Mr. Chavez, we were speaking the truth. With your status, how could you possibly be with someone from a modest Seacrity family? Aurora already punished us for saying so. Look at my hair!" She was attempting to provoke him. You're a respected major from Clusia. Can you really hold a grudge over a few remarks about your girlfriend? she thought.

Jeremiah's gaze sharpened, his dark eyes icy and intimidating. He produced his phone, dialed a number, and spoke in brief, clipped tones. "Prepare seventy million in cash." The statement hung in the air, leaving everyone stunned.

Yvette, beside Aurora, observed with a detached expression.

After hanging up, Jeremiah strode toward Yvette, stopping directly in front of her.

Aurora glanced at the space between them. Tsk. Jeremiah must be truly angry; he doesn't even notice how close he is to Yvette. She deemed the proximity unacceptable, believing he should maintain more distance now that he was in a relationship. She tugged Yvette's sleeve, gesturing for her to move back.

Yvette complied, taking two steps back. Jeremiah tilted his head, his jaw tight. Is my mother trying to steal my girlfriend? And succeeding? he mused.

He turned back to the women, his gaze disapproving. His sharply angled eyebrows, narrowed eyes, thin, pressed lips, and defined features conveyed cold pride. Even alone, he exuded a commanding presence, as if surveying the world from a superior height.

His voice, deep and frigid, cut through the silence. "Tomorrow, the Chavez family will personally deliver each of you 3.3 million dollars as compensation for your injuries today."

Yvette merely glanced at him, then returned to her phone, sitting and playing calmly.

Aurora sat nearby, nudging Yvette's arm. With a regretful sigh, she watched the ecstatic women. "Oh man," she murmured, "if I'd known they were getting 3.3 million, I would have hit them a few more times. Now I feel like I missed out."

Darnell, nearby, twitched an eye. Aurora was certainly...unique. Clifford had unusual tastes. Jeremiah's actions, however, completely baffled him. He was unlike what the rumors suggested.

Aurora's regret deepened. If only I'd known it would cost that much, I would have kicked them more! she thought. Yet she never questioned his actions, her trust unwavering.

Yvette, putting down her phone, smirked. Her beautiful eyes were icily cold. "They won't get it."

Aurora paused, surprised. "My son never breaks his promises. He'll definitely pay."

Yvette didn't argue, resuming her phone game.

The women were incredulous. Gloria, needing money the most, bravely asked, "Mr. Chavez, will you really pay us each 3.3 million dollars?"

Jeremiah's silence confirmed it. Excitement rippled through them. They hadn't expected this twist—not only no blame, but compensation.

Eleanore and the others felt smug, assuming he was merely protecting his reputation. Reaching up to fix her hair, she touched a bald patch, forgetting Aurora's handiwork. She quickly lowered her hand. "Since Mr. Chavez is so reasonable, we'll accept. We'll wait at home for the Chavez family tomorrow."

The others echoed their delight.

Jeremiah observed their joy, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Wait at home? No need."

Eleanore and Gloria stared, bewildered. "What do you mean?" they asked in unison.

Ignoring them, Jeremiah addressed Darnell. "I want to sue them for slandering a soldier." Darnell understood immediately. The compensation was a prelude to a stronger move. Civility before strength.

The new Clusian law heavily penalized slandering soldiers and their families. Jeremiah wasn't a typical soldier; a full investigation could be devastating for the women. Their casual gossip, if pursued, could lead to prison time.

Darnell stepped forward. "Understood. I'll arrest them immediately, and we'll follow up with you."

Aurora, turning to Yvette, declared, "Jeremiah is so handsome."

Yvette, lowering her gaze slightly, agreed. "Yeah, he's pretty handsome."

A hint of pride infused Aurora's voice. "Of course. He's my son! Let me tell you a secret—if he hadn't been so cute when he was little, I would've sent him to kindergarten much sooner. But he went astray and isn't cute anymore."

The women's panic was palpable upon learning about the severity of defaming a soldier. "What do you mean by defaming a soldier? We were just gossiping. Is it that serious?"

"Don't underestimate us. We're not ordinary people. We have lawyers."

"Exactly. It's just defamation. Are you really going to jail us for that?" Their bravado wavered.

Darnell chuckled coldly. They still didn't grasp the situation. "Ladies, please come with me. The law against defaming soldiers was recently passed. The maximum penalty is ten years, the minimum two. Your lawyers can meet us at the station."

He called for backup. Before the women could react, they were handcuffed.

Panic ensued. Pleading fell on deaf ears. Aurora, engrossed in a game with Yvette, ignored their cries.

Then Eleanore remembered someone. "Mr. Chavez, aren't you worried about Mr. Clifford Chavez? He won't allow this!"