Chris had just returned from prison, only to witness a sight that tore him apart—his wife was getting married. And not just to anyone, but to Edward Jones—the same man who had sent thugs to kill him in jail.
He stepped into the grand banquet hall. Just as Edward raised the ring to place it on Alice's finger, a voice boomed through the room.
"STOP this wedding!"
Heads turned. Guests gasped. A stunned silence blanketed the hall.
Then came the whispers—sharp, loud enough for Chris to hear.
"Isn't that the man who sacrificed himself for his wife?"
"He has the guts to show up at a Jones' wedding?"
"He took the blame for her theft and went to jail. Now he's back?"
Chris walked in, slowly but boldly, his gaze locked on the bride and groom. Alice and Edward exchanged a look—one of disbelief and fear.
"I thought you said he was killed in prison?" Alice hissed at Edward, eyes wide.
But Chris had already closed the distance.
"I can't believe this, Alice," he said, voice heavy with betrayal. "You're marrying the same man who tried to have me killed! Five years ago, you begged me on your knees to take the fall for that stolen necklace. I agreed because I loved you. And now I come back to this?"
"Please, Chris," Alice snapped, disgust flickering across her face. "Today is my special day. Don't ruin it. What happened five years ago is in the past. I've moved on—as you can clearly see."
Her words struck him like a hammer. Chris's mind flashed back—to the night she knelt before him, eyes full of tears, pleading with him to admit he stole the diamond necklace from the LONERS. He'd taken the blame. He'd gone to prison—for her.
He slammed his palm against the table beside him, rattling the glasses. "This marriage will not happen—not while I'm still breathing."
"And who are you to make such a declaration?" Edward finally spoke, stepping closer, arrogance radiating from him. "It's obvious why Alice chose me. She couldn't waste her life on someone as pathetic as you. You were so broke, you couldn't even buy her a pair of panties. You were nothing but a burden—an errand boy living in her parents' house."
Chris clenched his fists. It was true—he'd lived under her parents' roof. But Alice had never asked for material things. Now, Edward's words painted a picture he hadn't seen before. How long had this affair been going on?
"Wait…" he muttered, his voice shaky. "You mean to say this wasn't something new…?"
"No, Chris. It's not new," another voice cut in.
Everyone turned.
Katherine—Alice's mother—walked forward. Elegant, tall, and impossibly youthful for her age of 42, she glared at Chris with disdain.
"You fool," she sneered. "They've been together for five years."
Chris blinked. "Excuse me…?"
"This affair began the moment you two got married," Katherine said, her voice sharp. "On your wedding night, I drugged you so Alice could spend the night with Edward. You were knocked out cold while they had their beautiful evening—right in your house."
The crowd gasped.
Katherine smirked. "I only approved of your marriage because I thought you had potential. But you turned out to be a disappointment—just a street rat. That's why we made Alice frame you for the theft. We wanted you out of our lives."
She laughed—high, cold, and cruel.
Others joined in. Chuckles and mockery echoed around the hall.
Something snapped inside Chris.
He turned and slapped Katherine hard across the face.
"You vile woman!" he shouted.
Alice lunged at him, hand raised—but Chris caught her wrist mid-air and slapped her back.
"You dare?" she shrieked.
Edward stepped forward. "You'll regret that, Chris. Guards!"
Two muscular men rushed in.
"Beat him," Edward commanded, his tone deadly. "Make sure he doesn't leave here alive. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" they barked and charged at Chris.
But before they could land a single hit, Chris caught their fists mid-air. His body pulsed with raw energy. In a split second, he twisted their arms, bones cracking like dry twigs. The men screamed in agony as their hands dangled uselessly.
Chris jumped, spun mid-air, and kicked both of them in the chest—sending them flying into the banquet doors.
Gasps filled the hall. The guests were frozen, their jaws slack.
Alice stumbled back, eyes wide. "How… how did Chris just do that?" she stammered. "He was as weak as an ant before… how is he this strong now?"
Her question sparked a memory in Chris's mind—his time in prison. The beatings. The pain. And then… the old man.
He remembered the frail figure who had approached him in the darkest days of confinement. The man had said his life was near its end—and he needed someone to inherit his legacy. A legacy of power, wealth, and ancient martial arts.
"If you agree," the man had said, "I will teach you the ways of the Dragons. You will become the strongest, and the richest."
"I agree," Chris had replied, desperate, hungry to rise again.
For five years, he trained in secrecy—mastering martial arts and medicine, evolving into something far beyond the man he once was.
Chris snapped back to the present.
"I don't care how strong you are," Edward growled. "I'll make sure you die today!"
Chris marched toward him, rage blazing in his eyes.
"What if I kill you first?" he asked coldly. "What would you do?"
"You won't dare!" Edward said, backing away. "My father is the CEO of NAWI! NAWI is linked to the Dragon Group! One phone call and they'll be here—and you'll be finished!"
Chris grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground like paper.
"Go ahead. Call them," he spat.
Suddenly, a chilling voice echoed across the room. "How dare you lay your hands on him? Do you have a death wish?"
Everyone turned.
Silence. Then trembling.
A woman in black stilettos and an aura of icy power stepped into view.
Her name was Rachael Blake. The merciless, unstoppable CEO of Dragon Group—feared across continents.
Also known as Miss Poison.