Skip to content
Novel Catalog
Chapter_180
The evening was heavy with unspoken tension as the dinner progressed. Bruce, who had been quiet for most of the evening, glanced at Sienna when he learned about her connection to Nathan. He nodded coldly but said nothing. It was clear that no matter how strong the Goodman family was, the situation didn’t faze him. He was loyal to Yvette and would protect anyone she cared for, no matter the cost.
Meanwhile, at the Goodman family’s private hospital, Nathan was being attended to by his exclusive doctor. The doctor worked slowly, almost painstakingly, as he carefully bandaged Nathan’s wounds. The task that should have taken only 20 minutes stretched into an hour, the doctor’s hands trembling slightly from the tension in the air. Nathan’s glare was intense, making the air around him feel suffocating.
Nathan’s thoughts were dark as he reflected on the day’s events. The humiliation, the loss of control—it all fueled his simmering anger. As the bandages were applied, Nathan remained silent, his gaze distant.
After the doctor finished, Nathan left the hospital and returned to the Goodman residence. Stepping out of the car, he spotted his younger brother, Braydon, on the lawn. Braydon was playing with Odin, the family dog, tossing a toy for the animal to fetch. Nathan couldn’t help but feel a bitter irony at the sight. His brother treated the dog better than he treated him, and it stung.
Braydon, who had always been different from Nathan in every way, seemed to be the one who found peace and comfort in the little things—Odin, of all creatures, was a symbol of that. Nathan took a step toward the lawn, his jaw tightening.
Tyson, standing next to Braydon, noticed Nathan’s bandaged wrist from a distance. His eyes widened in surprise and concern. Who dared to hurt him? Tyson wondered, the thought churning in his mind.
He quickly bowed his head, his voice formal. “Mr. Braydon Goodman, Mr. Nathan Goodman has arrived.”
Braydon didn’t even look up, continuing to entertain Odin with a toy in his hand. Nathan approached, but as he did, Odin, sensing an intruder, barked loudly and lunged at Nathan, only held back by Braydon’s firm grip on the leash.
Nathan shot Odin a disgusted look, his gaze then shifting to Braydon. Just like his dog, Braydon—unpleasant, unlikable, and stubborn.
He rolled up his sleeve, exposing the bandages on his wrist as if to taunt his brother. Braydon paused and glanced over, his eyes briefly flicking from the dog to Nathan’s injury.
“Who hurt you?” Braydon asked, his tone flat but curious.
Nathan hesitated, his mind wrestling with the decision of whether to tell Braydon the truth. Braydon’s obsession with Yvette was well known, and Nathan feared that revealing Yvette’s return to Mysonna might send Braydon into a frenzy. Braydon had always been unpredictable when it came to her.
But Nathan wasn’t sure if he could protect Braydon if he went after Yvette. The woman was dangerous. She had shown no mercy before, and he feared she wouldn’t spare Braydon if he crossed her path.
After a long moment of contemplation, Nathan masked his pain with a forced smile and answered evasively, “It’s nothing. I just hurt myself, accidentally.”
Braydon’s eyes narrowed, still trained on Nathan’s hand. Nathan could feel the weight of his brother’s scrutiny, but he remained silent, hoping Braydon would drop it.
Braydon, with a small grunt, shifted his gaze back to the dog. “You’re quite careless. Did that woman hurt you? Why keep something that disobeys?”
The mention of Sienna ignited a surge of anger in Nathan. Does Braydon think I’ll do anything for Sienna? He snapped back. “Aren’t you obsessed with Yvette yourself?”
The words hung in the air like a bomb, and the temperature dropped noticeably. Braydon’s eyes locked onto Nathan with an intensity that could freeze a man in his tracks.
Tyson, standing nearby, cursed under his breath. He knew better than anyone that mentioning Yvette’s name in front of Braydon was a massive mistake. Few dared to do so, as the consequences could be catastrophic.
Braydon’s eyes darkened, his gaze becoming piercing, like a wolf’s. His voice, cold and lethal, cut through the silence. “What is Sienna? How can she compare to Yvette? If I hear such words again, I’ll make Sienna disappear for good.”
The threat was clear, and it sent a shiver down Nathan’s spine. Braydon’s obsession with Yvette was dangerous—he had always been merciless when it came to protecting her. Nathan’s anger flared, but he knew better than to challenge Braydon when he was in this mood.
With a slight tremor in his voice, Nathan softened his tone, his pride and fury warring with his need to placate Braydon. “Braydon, I’m sorry for my words. You can’t touch Sienna. She’s pregnant with my child. If anything happens to her, two lives are lost. I’ll handle my affairs. You don’t need to worry. Just visit Grandpa when you can.”
Braydon’s eyes flicked over to him, his expression filled with disdain. “I’ll see him when he dies,” he said coldly, without a hint of care.
Nathan blinked, taken aback by Braydon’s casual cruelty. Is it because of Yvette? Nathan wondered. He thought back to the time when Damian had drugged Braydon to make him miss Yvette’s whereabouts for two months. Was this hatred for Yvette the root of Braydon’s behavior now?
Yvette, to Braydon, was the very thing that he could never have. She was a constant reminder of something unattainable.
As night fell, the tension at the Goodman estate was palpable. After everyone had settled in, Yvette, ever the enigmatic figure, slipped out of the villa in a black sweatshirt, her hair tied back and hidden beneath a cap. Only her chin and lips were visible.
She made her way to the western district of Mysonna to a bar called “Raindrop.” The place was alive with music and movement—men and women dancing to the DJ’s beats, the air thick with energy and excitement.
Yvette found herself a quiet corner booth, the dim lights hiding her face. She ordered a cup of hot milk, the cozy drink completely out of place in the noisy, chaotic bar. Her choice drew a few puzzled stares, but she paid them no mind.
As she settled in, a few patrons caught sight of her profile and, for a moment, speculated about her beauty. Raindrop Bar had a reputation for attracting attractive clientele, so they quickly turned their attention elsewhere.
Yvette, unfazed, continued sipping her milk, her half-closed eyes and relaxed posture exuding an air of quiet defiance.
About half an hour later, two men with bleached hair exchanged looks, noting Yvette in the booth. Their eyes gleamed with malicious intent. These two were low-level members of the Tiger Head Gang, a criminal group that often operated in the underworld. They specialized in targeting vulnerable women at bars like Raindrop, luring them into addiction, and then forcing them into prostitution when they couldn’t pay for the drugs.
They had been operating in the shadows, careful not to draw attention. But now, with the growing power of their gang and their success in smuggling new drugs, they were beginning to get bolder. Raindrop Bar had become one of their regular hunting grounds.
