Golden Melody (Editing)

Chapter 110

Miexha lay quietly in the Dom Mansion infirmary. Her head was wrapped in a clean white bandage, an IV line running through her delicate hand. The steady sound of the heart monitor filled the room — calm, constant, almost too peaceful compared to the chaos that led her here.

Jayson came in still wearing his fencing uniform, sweat dripping down his temple.
“Where’s Miexha?” he asked, breath short.

The maid bowed nervously.
“She was in the library. Studying with her tutor. Then suddenly—she collapsed. There was blood from her head… we rushed her here immediately.”

Jayson froze. His jaw clenched. “Who was she with?”

“Mr. Zatariel Wov.”

That was enough.

He walked closer to the bed, lowering his head to press a trembling kiss on Miexha’s bandaged forehead.
“You always get yourself hurt, huh?” he whispered softly — but his eyes burned red with anger. The moment he turned around, his expression shifted; the nurse and maids backed away as his fury filled the room.

He left the infirmary in silence, but his steps echoed like thunder.

He found the library door wide open, maids cleaning the mess of fallen books and shattered glass. “Where’s that fucking tutor?” he demanded.

“T-The young master Wov is at the presidential office, sir,” one maid stammered.

Jayson stormed out — every step fueled by rage and confusion.

When he reached the presidential office, the door was slightly open. Before he could speak, a sharp, echoing SLAP cut through the air.

Zaren Wov’s hand struck across his son’s face.

Zatariel didn’t even flinch. His cheek reddened, his hair fell over his eyes, but he stayed still. Jayson froze at the door — the anger that had brought him there melted into shock.

He ran inside instinctively.
“Ninong, stop!”

Zatariel’s cold eyes lifted to him.
“Stay out of this,” he said, voice breaking.
“You already betrayed me.”

Jayson’s chest tightened.
“I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Zatariel shouted, tears pooling in his eyes but refusing to fall.
“You knew! You knew she was hurt and you still stood there pretending to care!”

“I came here to—”

“To what?” Zatariel snapped.
“To play hero again? You always do that, Jayson. You always save people you don’t even understand.”

Zaren raised his hand again, furious. “Zatariel!”

Jayson caught the older man’s wrist. “Please, ninong. Enough.”

Zaren glared, but Jayson’s tone carried the weight of the Dom bloodline. He reluctantly lowered his hand, stepping back.

Zatariel let out a bitter laugh. “Now you care, huh? When your father’s watching?”

Jayson’s voice cracked. “You’re my friend—”

“Don’t call me that.” Zatariel’s voice trembled.
“I don’t need a snake for a friend. I’m cutting ties with you. Forever.”

The room went silent.

Zaren and Ashel exchanged a quiet, knowing look — one of guilt they couldn’t show. There were things their sons weren’t meant to know. Things about duty, loyalty, and the cruel balance of power that chained them all.