Worst Nightmare

Chapter 20

Auhtor's Pov...

Mr. Wang sat in the dimly lit chamber of the ancient temple, his fingers tapping impatiently on the wooden armrest of his chair. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the stone walls, the scent of burning incense thick in the air. His face, usually unreadable, betrayed a hint of frustration as he stared at the closed doors before him.

The priest had been inside for hours, consulting the old texts and seeking answers from the spirits. Mr. Wang had no patience for superstitions, but this was different. This was about his daughter.

His jaw clenched as memories resurfaced—his daughter, lost in the tangled web of the Malisorn's plans, hidden behind layers of deception and schemes. He had underestimated them once, but not again.

Flashback: The Paris Meeting... ( when Becky was hurt and Faye, Freen helped her)

The dimly lit room carried the scent of incense and aged leather, mingling with an unspoken power that seeped into the walls. Mr. Wang strode in with the quiet confidence of a man who commanded both fear and respect. His tailored suit bore the subtle insignia of the Wang family—a silent reminder of a legacy built on dominance. Behind him, Lux moved like a shadow, her steps measured, one hand hovering near the concealed holster beneath her coat, her sharp gaze sweeping the room with predatory precision.

Seated across from them, in an obsidian-black wheelchair that did nothing to diminish his presence, was Shin Dragon Trexx. His storm-dark eyes dissected the duo before his lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. The flickering candlelight sharpened his angular features, giving him an almost spectral presence.

"You honor me, Your Majesty," Shin drawled, his voice a silk-sheathed blade. "Though I suspect this visit isn't merely for pleasantries."

Mr. Wang's gaze remained impassive, cold as the Parisian winter outside. "I don't deal in pleasantries with men like you, Shin. I'm here to address the games you've been playing in the shadows."

A low chuckle escaped Shin as he leaned forward, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the armrest of his chair. "Ah, but shadows are where the truth hides, aren't they? And truth is far more compelling than the illusions of light."

He gestured to the chair opposite him, but Mr. Wang remained standing—a deliberate assertion of dominance. Lux, ever watchful, flicked her gaze toward Jan, the man lounging lazily against the wall. His unsettling calm, the way his eyes lingered on her a second too long, made her fingers twitch closer to her weapon. Jan smirked as if amused by the silent warning.

Shin's voice cut through the tension like a razor. "Your Princess," he mused, drawing out his words with theatrical delight, "is quite the enigma. But then again, so are the Malisorns."

A muscle in Mr. Wang's jaw tensed, though his face remained unreadable. The name alone carried weight—a name he had scrutinized more than once, always suspecting something lay beneath the surface.

Shin tilted his head, smirking. "There's an old saying: 'A tree with two roots either flourishes or tears itself apart.' The Malisorn's, Your Majesty, are a tree with roots both seen and unseen. Some grow deep and sturdy. Others... well, others are far more surprising."

Mr. Wang's voice dropped to a dangerous low. "If you have something to say, Shin, say it plainly."

Shin chuckled, dark amusement flickering in his gaze. "Plain words are for simple men. But let's just say, not every root belongs to the tree it serves."

The weight of his words settled over the room, thick with implication. Mr. Wang was no fool—he understood what was being hinted at. The Prince. The Malisorn's. The unexplained oddities since the wedding that he had chosen to overlook.