In a Betrico apartment, a young man in his late twenties, with short hair and a white shirt open at the neck, sat on the sofa, lighting a cigar. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing tanned arms. This was Kaiden Harper, Larry's favorite son, known as the Mafia Prince.
Opposite him sat Robin Jenkins, a less handsome man with a mustache. Robin stared at Kaiden with undisguised contempt. He was surprised Kaiden, Larry's illegitimate son, was visiting Clusia with him. Within their circle, Kaiden's illegitimacy was common knowledge, and the reason for Larry's choice of heir remained a mystery.
"Kaiden," Robin began, "are you ready for the friendly match in a week? You never leave the house. What are you doing? You're wasting your time. I'm going to report you to—"
Kaiden angrily stubbed out his cigar. "Hall," Robin finished coldly, his gaze unfriendly.
"Mr. Jenkins, don't you want me to win?" Kaiden asked, a hint of disdain in his voice.
Robin, seething with rage, didn't answer. He hoped a victory for Kaiden would significantly elevate his position in the Steel Serpents. He couldn't admit this, however.
Slamming the table, Robin stood, livid. "Mr. Harper," he spat, "don't assume everyone is like you. I'm loyal to our nation and will never entertain such thoughts. You're slandering me! I'll report this to Mr. Hall. Just you wait!"
Kaiden showed no fear, instead laughing—a chilling sound that sent shivers down Robin's spine. "Mr. Jenkins," Kaiden said, "I wouldn't want a falling out with you unless…"
Robin's face darkened. "What the hell do you want?" Kaiden pressed, his eyes like daggers.
"I suspect my father doesn't know about your dealings with my brother behind his back," Kaiden sneered. "Mr. Jenkins, keep your head down after your recent profits. Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours. Otherwise, don't blame me for telling my father. What do you say?"
Robin was shocked. He hadn't expected Kaiden to know. He wouldn't directly confront Kaiden unless absolutely necessary. Robin, intimidated, dared not be arrogant. He eyed Kaiden suspiciously, sensing something was amiss. Kaiden clearly possessed leverage.
Robin gritted his teeth. "I hope you won't forget Mr. Hall's mission and keep your promise. You must beat the Clusians and win the match."
Kaiden nodded. "Don't worry. I'm confident in my swordsmanship."
After Robin left, Kaiden stared out the window at the distant lights. He glanced at his left hand, missing a little finger—lost years ago when a man, showing no mercy, cut it off. Only Damian's intervention had saved his life. Kaiden stood lost in thought.
In Skyland, Jeremiah opened the door to find Yvette emerging from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, her long, wet hair cascading down her shoulders. He quickly closed the door, gazing at her.
Yvette met his gaze, a captivating smile curving her lips. Noticing his flushed cheeks and ears, she calmly walked to the cloakroom, picking up a white t-shirt. Jeremiah’s eyes followed her every move, stiffening as she prepared to change.
"Still want to watch?" she asked slowly, catching his awkward look in the mirror.
Jeremiah removed his jacket, hugging her from behind, pressing against her through the towel. "Yes, but I'm afraid I'll lose control," he admitted huskily.
Yvette turned, biting his lip before kissing him hard and aggressively. He froze, muscles tense. When he tried to reciprocate, she broke the kiss, stepping back, wiping her lips, and leaning against the wardrobe.
Looking at him, breathing heavily with lust in his eyes, she chuckled. "Your mouth is sweet," she said slowly.
Jeremiah was stunned. How could his mouth be sweet?
After picking up her pajamas, Yvette turned to leave. Jeremiah grabbed her hand. "Are you leaving? What should I do? I can't wait any longer," he said, his voice deep and husky.
A mischievous smile played on her lips. "Sorry, I'm on my period," she said, her gaze fixed on his red lips.
The mood evaporated. Jeremiah gritted his teeth, annoyed by her teasing.
"Have you had my ginger tea?" he asked, adjusting his tie.
Yvette was surprised. "No," she replied.
Jeremiah, sensing her unfamiliarity with ginger tea, felt a pang of sympathy. He knew it helped with cramps. "Hang on. I'll make you some. Go put on long pants to avoid a cold," he said, stroking her hair.
"Okay," she replied.
Half an hour later, he returned with the tea. "Drink this, then rest. Shall I read you a story?" he offered.
Yvette coughed awkwardly. He'd read online that bedtime stories strengthened couples' bonds, but wondered if it was appropriate. She nodded hesitantly, "Okay."