Chapter 6

Jace and Kyrell left for their appointment right after finishing their breakfast. The drive took a little over ten minutes before they reached the French bistro in the heart of Riverbend, a thriving and noisy district. The two men were unusually silent, each trapped in his own thoughts until the chauffeur cleared his throat and announced they had arrived. The bistro, one of the Newton family’s many properties in the city, was named Maison Rouge and stood prominently in the lively Parkview Quarter.

Their client was already seated at the reserved table, waiting. The meeting had been arranged for eight in the morning, but now the clock was pushing ten. Jace was notorious for never keeping to time, and everyone knew better than to scold him for it. The man’s irritation showed in his stiff smile, even though he tried hard to mask his impatience.

As they reached the table, Dr. Hughes, their client, extended his hand to shake Jace’s.

“Morning, Mr. Newton,” he greeted politely.

Jace gave him a curt nod and the faintest smile but offered no words.

“Good morning, Dr. Hughes. Always a pleasure.” Kyrell said warmly, grasping the man’s hand firmly in turn. He always had to clean up Jace’s mess, even if it was just fixing problems caused by his attitude.

Once they were settled, each of them ordered a steaming cup of strong black tea from the waitress waiting beside their table. Within moments, she returned to serve them. As she leaned in, she let her eyes linger on Jace in a bold, flirtatious way, unaware that he was the very owner of the establishment. Normally, a glance like that would have provoked his immediate wrath, but this time he chose not to react. Instead, he silently noted to have the manager remove her from the staff.

Distracted by her attraction to Jace, she slipped, and in an instant, a scalding cup of tea toppled over, spilling across Jace’s trousers.

A collective gasp rippled through the bistro as Jace moved back in pain.

“What in God’s name is this stupidity you just displayed?!” he barked.

“I—I’m so sorry, sir!” The waitress stammered, already rushing to grab something to clean up the mess. Her chest tightened with dread. She had barely managed to secure this job after months of struggle, and now she had ruined everything in a single moment.

Jace remained frozen for a moment, absorbing the shock of the burn. When his senses returned, his fury surged like fire through the room. Everyone who recognized him braced for the storm; the entire city was already accustomed to his temper.

Meanwhile, in the staff room, the waitress cried uncontrollably as the manager whispered the truth: the man she had just scalded was none other than Mr. Newton himself, infamous for his ruthlessness toward mistakes. She knew only a miracle could secure her job. She hadn't only flirted with her boss; she had also scalded him.

She rushed back with a towel in trembling hands, tears streaming down her face. Without thinking, she reached toward his suit jacket to dab at the stain.

“Don’t touch me!” Jace roared, slapping her hand away with enough force to crack her wrist. She staggered back, wide-eyed in shock. Kyrell, who had been silently signaling her not to approach, shook his head in pity. The moment the cup dropped, Kyrell knew her fate was sealed.

“Are you out of your mind? You spilled boiling tea all over my suit! This costs more than your salary for a year, and even if I asked you to replace it, you would never be able to. Before I lose my mind, I need you to leave this place immediately!” Jace’s voice thundered through the room, and the patrons released horrified gasps as the waitress dropped to her knees, sobbing.

“Please, sir. I beg you. Don’t fire me. My grandmother is terribly ill, and I need this job to pay for her care.” She pleaded desperately.

“You should have thought of that before ogling me like some cheap slut and ruining my suit.” Jace spat, his words cutting so deeply she dissolved into more tears.

“Get the car, and if that chauffeur loves his job, he'd better not be late.” He snapped at Kyrell, rising from his seat. Kyrell quickly pulled out his phone and summoned the driver to bring the SUV around.

But the waitress made another useless effort of begging; instead of leaving immediately, she clutched at Jace’s leg as he got up to leave.

“Please, sir. I’m begging you. Don’t do this to me,” she pleaded.

Jace’s glare would be enough to kill if his eyes were daggers.

“Get your filthy hands off of me before I do something we’ll both regret.” The threat in his voice was so raw that she instantly released him, trembling. She knew without doubt he meant it.

Just then, Kyrell returned, holding the door open as Jace stormed out. When he looked back, he caught sight of the young woman clutching her bag as she left the bistro in uncontrollable sobs. She had just lost her job and would probably lose her grandmother, too, all because Jace was an arrogant jerk.

“I apologize, Dr. Hughes. We’ll have to reschedule this meeting,” Kyrell said quietly.

“Again? This makes the third postponement.” Dr. Hughes snapped.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll get on top of this issue right now, and I assure you it won’t happen again.” Kyrell replied, hurriedly gathering the files he had earlier laid out for the meeting in order not to infuriate Jace more by wasting his time.

“It had better not.” Dr. Hughes said, rising. After a brief handshake, both men departed.

The ride back to the Newton estate was as silent as the first. Jace fumed beside him, while Kyrell’s thoughts were far away. His worry wasn’t about the meeting—it was about Eden. He feared that in his anger, Jace might unleash his wrath on her. She didn’t deserve such cruelty. He longed to free her from the torment she lived in, but he knew he couldn’t oppose Jace. All he could do was watch helplessly.

At the estate gates, Kyrell stepped out and crossed to his own car parked nearby. Jace didn’t spare him a glance as he headed inside. Kyrell lingered for a moment, staring at the looming house with furrowed brows before driving off, weighed down by frustration.

Inside, Jace dropped his keys on the table and stalked through the living room, eyes searching for Eden. He needed a target for his boiling rage, and she was the unfortunate one.

“Pathetic fools.” He muttered under his breath, recalling the whispers he’d overheard at the bistro. He heard some people call him names, and he really didn’t care; he was used to it by now. But someone called him a ‘beast,’ and that word in particular had struck deep; Eden herself had once thrown that same word at him. The sting of it festered in his chest.

***

It was Jace and Eden’s wedding night, a marriage that was obviously forced on him. He hadn’t smiled once during the event and was only pretending for appearances. He had promised his mother he would behave, just to uphold the Newton family’s image, and in his defense, he did behave.

The moment they returned home, his fake smile dropped and was replaced with a scowl that showed only loathing. His new bride stood at the bedside, radiant in a flowing emerald gown, her chocolate-brown eyes brimming with hope. But to him, she was the ruin of his life.

As soon as his mother left them alone, he turned on her. He had completely dropped his charade.

“Go make me something to eat,” he ordered coldly.

“Right now?” she asked softly, startled.

“Right now!” he barked. She scurried out, gathering her dress as she ran. Within the hour, she returned with a plate of grilled chicken and salad and a glass of cranberry juice. The dishes she had been told were among his favorites.

“What is this?” He demanded, his face twisting with disgust.

“It’s your—your preferred dinner. I thought—” She began but stopped short, her voice trembling.

“Toss this garbage in the bin and bring me a proper meal.” He cut her off sharply.

She swallowed hard and turned toward the wardrobe.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked icily.

“I—I was going to change out of this gown. It’s too heavy,” she whispered.

“Get back in the kitchen. Now.” He sounded scary to Eden, and she rushed out again, dragging the bulky fabric behind her.

Halfway down the staircase, she stumbled, crashing onto her stomach with a scream that echoed through the house.

Jace emerged from the room, his expression unreadable. For a fleeting moment, she saw guilt flicker in his eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

She writhed on the floor, struggling to rise. When their eyes met, hers pleaded silently for compassion, but he offered none.

“Get off my floor, you worthless thing!” he snarled as he descended toward her. “Do you have any idea how much these tiles cost me? If you do not get the hell off my floor, I’ll make falling off the stairs the least of your worries.”

There was no mercy in his voice, only venom.