Skip to content
Novel Catalog
Chapter_200
After Yvette and Tyson entered the Royal Phoenix, the onlookers dared to speak.
A young woman, dressed in fancy clothes and also turned away from the Royal Phoenix, gasped in disbelief.
“Oh my gosh, did you see that? The important guest invited by Damian was actually a girl who got off the bus?” she exclaimed.
Everyone nodded in agreement, their expressions filled with a mix of curiosity and confusion. A well-dressed man added, “The news about the Goodman family has spread all over Mysonna. I heard Damian is back to take control of the family again.”
“I heard about that too, but it won’t be easy. Damian has been away from Mysonna for so long, and now Braydon is in charge. Regaining power won’t be simple,” a middle-aged man commented.
“The affairs of the Goodman family are far beyond our reach. We’d better leave before trouble finds us,” someone else suggested.
As the crowd heard this, they recalled the ruthless reputation of the Goodman family and quickly dispersed. Some felt uneasy, regretting their earlier gossip about the family’s inner workings.
Tyson led the way, his expression as cold and impassive as ever, signaling for people to keep their distance. Yvette walked behind, her hands casually tucked in her pockets as if she were strolling through a familiar park, entirely unbothered.
Tyson wasn’t surprised by her laid-back demeanor. If anyone were to break form and show up like this, it would be Yvette, he thought.
The Royal Phoenix’s gun room was a marvel of modern technology, with a price tag exceeding 30 million dollars. Naturally, the prices for services here were equally high. The guns on display were the latest models, including some rare pieces that could only be found in a few places.
Some people whispered that whoever was behind Royal Phoenix must have ties to the arms trade, as they seemed to have access to all the newest models almost immediately.
Tyson knocked softly at the door to the gun room.
Inside, Damian was focused on polishing a gun, the dark steel gleaming under the lights. His expression was grim, and his gaze sharp. His hands, though worn and aged, moved with precision.
Hearing the knock, Damian looked up and said curtly, “Come in.”
Tyson opened the door slightly, stepped aside, and gestured respectfully, “Please, Ms. Zeller.”
Yvette gave a slight nod of acknowledgment to Tyson before walking in with an air of casual confidence. She took a seat without hesitation, crossing her legs comfortably, her body language nonchalant.
Damian’s eyes narrowed as he watched her, his thoughts turning cold. She hasn’t changed. Always so carefree, so rebellious. If she had chosen to be with Braydon back then, she would be the mistress of the Goodman family by now. Why disappear for years, only to return now?
Damian sighed inwardly and spoke first, “Long time no see, Yvette.”
Yvette set her cup down on the table, looking up at him with a faint, almost mischievous smile. Her voice was calm, but her words carried a bite. “Didn’t expect to see you again. This time, it’s purely by coincidence.”
Damian’s expression darkened, clearly not pleased by her bluntness. Her words are as sharp as ever, he thought.
Tyson, standing off to the side, couldn’t help but observe the interaction with a mix of admiration and concern. Only Yvette would speak to Mr. Goodman like that, he mused silently.
Damian placed a black gun on the table, the barrel pointed in Yvette’s direction, though the action seemed more theatrical than threatening.
Yvette, however, didn’t flinch. She remained in her relaxed posture, her eyes steady, a hint of arrogance in her gaze. She wasn’t intimidated by the gesture.
Damian, sensing her unyielding confidence, subtly turned the gun so that it no longer faced her directly.
“What brings you back this time? Have you met with Braydon yet?” Damian asked, his tone more calculating than curious.
Yvette’s eyes remained cold as she glanced at him. She lifted her chin slightly, her voice devoid of warmth. “Whether I’ve met him or not, don’t you already know? You’ve been playing the same old game for years. Aren’t you tired of it?”
Damian coughed, swallowing his coffee, clearly thrown off by her remark. His face flushed red with anger, but he kept his composure, though his grip on the cup tightened.
Tyson’s eyes shifted slightly, his concern for the situation growing.
Damian took a moment to calm himself, then asked with forced neutrality, “Are you not considering Braydon, then?”
Yvette toyed with her cup, tapping it lightly with her fingers. Her lips curled into a slight smile, one that seemed both mischievous and distant. “Keep him in check. The last time was the final straw. If it happens again, you’ll have to deal with the consequences yourself,” she said.
Damian’s face grew tense. He knew Yvette to be someone who followed through with her words. The favor she owed him had been repaid long ago.
“I’ll keep him in check, but I hope you stop showing up in front of him. You know how unstable Braydon’s personality is,” Damian said, his voice laced with caution. “Can’t you show some leniency? You know how difficult his childhood was.”
Yvette’s eyes remained cold as she tilted her head back in the chair, her tone icy as she spoke. “Am I his father or his mother?”
Damian’s face turned pale, his eyes flashing with a mixture of fury and disbelief. What do I even say to that? he thought bitterly.
Damian took a slow sip of his coffee, trying to steady his temper. Finally, he responded in a low voice, “Fine. I understand what you’re saying.”
Unfazed by the tense exchange, Yvette casually pulled a piece of vanilla toffee from her pocket and popped it into her mouth. Just as she settled back into her seat, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, seeing it was a call from Jeremiah. Her expression softened slightly as she answered the call in front of both Damian and Tyson.
“Hello?” Yvette greeted.
Jeremiah’s voice came through the line, “Have you eaten yet?”
Yvette glanced down at the phone, replying, “I have.”
Jeremiah continued, “The weather in Mysonna’s been changing. Remember to wear an extra coat when you go out, avoid cold drinks, and stay warm. Don’t open the windows at night. Be careful not to catch a cold.”
The soldiers surrounding Jeremiah remained perfectly still, clearly aware of the contrast between their commander’s intimidating reputation and the seemingly tender care he showed Yvette. One of them couldn’t help but think, Is he still The Living Reaper, feared by everyone in the ranks? He sounds more like a worried mother.
After a brief exchange, Jeremiah hung up, and Damian’s eyes shifted back to Yvette, his expression shifting to one of suspicion and intrigue.
“Got yourself a boyfriend?” Damian asked, his tone skeptical. He didn’t quite believe anyone could be involved with someone as fiercely independent as Yvette.
Yvette put her phone away and crossed her legs again, her posture relaxed but her gaze sharp. “None of your business,” she snapped without hesitation.
Tyson’s expression hardened, and he finally spoke up, his voice firm and commanding, “Ms. Zeller, regardless of how you feel, remember to show respect to your elders when speaking.”
Yvette didn’t even glance at Tyson, her eyes still focused on the table as she fiddled with her cup. “Seems I’ve been too polite, letting everyone think they can act like my elders,” she retorted, her tone dripping with arrogance.
The words were jarring to anyone else, but when Yvette said them, Tyson was momentarily silenced. He knew she wasn’t wrong. From the very beginning, her relationship with Damian had always been one of mutual benefit. The life debt had been repaid long ago.
