Chapter 3

"Have you ever wondered what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?"

Eric frowned in confusion. "The fuck? What force?"

"This one."

Dante slapped him across the cheek, then drove his fists into him again and again. Eric shrieked and whimpered, while his bodyguards froze, too stunned to act.

Gwendolyn had already folded her arms the moment Dante posed his question. Now, she laughed aloud. "Oh my God, stop, Danny! You don't want his snot all over your knuckles, do you?"

It was far from the first time someone had made the mistake of posturing in front of Dante. Back when Gwendolyn still trained under Athos, she had seen him flatten more than a few hotshots and dignitaries from Lohenberg, Hrestia's capital, whenever they tried to impress her master.

"I hate the way he talks to you, Gwen. I think I should pull his teeth out for that offense," Dante said coolly once he finally stopped.

Gwendolyn glanced at Eric, who sat trembling. "Nah. My family's kind of friendly with his grandfather, so I'll forgive him this time. Let's go home, Danny. My grandfather can't wait to see you."

The crowd quickly parted, letting the two of them leave.

Only after they were gone did Eric's bodyguards rush to his side and help him up. "Are you alright, sir?"

"Alright?! Look at me and tell me if I'm alright, you useless pieces of shit!" Eric exploded.

He turned his rage on the nearest guard, striking him until he was left panting.

"That bitch is finished. She's gonna answer to my dad. And that asshole—I'll make him crawl on his knees and beg for forgiveness!" Eric snarled, spitting out a threat at people who were long gone.

Or so he thought. Dante strolled back in, having remembered he had left his phone on the table. Hearing Eric's words, he smiled innocently and gave him another brutal beating.

…

"You and I both know why I came, Beaumont. So let's get straight to it. Shall we start choosing the wedding date?"

Lambert Beaumont frowned. Across the table, Eric's father, George Wagner, waited.

"If you think you're not the one to decide, I can always wait for your father," George added.

Lambert set down his glass. "Listen, George. Times have changed. People don't marry just because their parents arranged it. They deserve their own lives, including the right to choose their partner. Besides, have you met my daughter? She's… troublesome. You wouldn't want her as your daughter-in-law.

"In fact, let's be frank. Should we really treat the words of a drunken old man as binding? My father had no idea what he was saying that night."

"With all due respect, Lambert, you're walking back on a promise your father made. Everyone knows our families will be in-laws soon. Canceling now will make both of us a joke to the Audraco upper class!" George shot back.

'The only reason everyone knows about this farce is because you people can't stop spreading it!' Lambert sneered inwardly.

Out loud, he said, "I understand, but all we need to do is explain that the marriage was never serious. That way, no stain falls on the Wagners."

George shook his head firmly. "No. Our reputations mean too much. The Beaumonts and the Wagners are both moguls. This isn't just about our children! I want to hear your father's stance, at the very least."

Gwendolyn strode into the living room, her tone icy. "Oh, no need for that, Mr. Wagner. You already have my answer."

Lambert and George looked up. Dante followed behind her, and both men stiffened slightly.

"Dad, this arrangement was a joke from the start! We don't need to dignify it. Do we?" she pressed, unflinching despite George's glare. "Mr. Wagner, let's not waste time waiting for my grandfather. It was the word of a drunken man, and that's all it should ever be."

"Gwendolyn Beaumont! That's no way to speak to George. Show some manners!" Lambert snapped.

He turned to George apologetically. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. As I said, my daughter is troublesome, spoiled even. Still, she has made her unwillingness clear, and I believe we should respect it—"

"No!" George roared. "The real joke is how you're treating us! This is an insult to the Wagners. Is this your power play?"

Lambert remained calm. "I'm very sorry it's come to this, George."

Silence fell, heavy as a storm about to break.

Then one of George's men stumbled inside, panic in his voice. "Sir! Mr. Eric, he's…"

"What? Speak clearly!"

"T-They said Mr. Eric was sent to the hospital. Someone b-beat him very badly," the man stammered. "You have to see him now."

George shot to his feet in fury. "Who the hell did that?!"

The man cowered. "I don't know, sir!"

George drew a long breath, forcing himself steady. He nodded stiffly at Lambert. "I'm sorry, but I must leave. We'll continue this at the Audracolian Feast Day."

He cast one last hard look at the young man beside Gwendolyn before storming out.

"Jesus, Gwen, did you have to be so brash? You could have made an enemy for life," Lambert grumbled.

His eyes lingered on Dante, sharp with recognition. 'So this is him. The Nutty Master's favorite acolyte.'

Gwendolyn scoffed. "Oh, please. Why waste time on polite excuses when the whole thing was always a sham?"

She shoved Dante toward her father with a bright smile. "Look, Dad! This is Dante Blackwood, my junior. Isn't he a looker?"

Lambert smiled politely and nodded. "Pleased to meet you at last, Dante. Given how strict that Nutty Master is, the fact that you became his favorite says a great deal about your potential and skills."

"You flatter me, Mr. Beaumont," Dante replied with a grin. "My master always said I'm too dense for my own good."

Before Lambert could say more, Gwendolyn tugged Dante away. "Grandpa's still recovering from his drunken spree, so you can't see him yet. Anyway, I'll show you your room!"

"A shame. It's been a while since I last saw your grandfather. Well, good things are worth the wait," Dante said.

The room prepared for Dante was spacious and clearly renovated with him in mind. It radiated comfort.

Later, after her bath, Gwendolyn emerged in a loose, translucent gown and sprawled on his bed, her long pale legs on full display. "It's been ages since we shared a bed, Danny. Let's do it again! We can tell secrets before sleep, just like old times."

Dante stood and backed away. "No, Gwen. We're not kids anymore. This could turn messy fast, and I won't let that happen to you."

Gwendolyn's frown softened into a sheepish grin. A blush warmed her cheeks as she drew him against her chest.

"How can you be so sure it'd go wrong? I think it'd be right. Don't you want a cute little baby with both our genes?" she whispered.