Vengeance in His Bed novel Chapter 136

Chapter 136: The Wrath of the Moscows

The atmosphere of the Grefo estate’s lounge was already thick with unspoken tension long before the doors were thrown open.

Dorrent lay stretched out on the long sofa, his towering frame relaxed, one arm thrown carelessly over his brow. His eyes were closed, but his jaw remained tight, a residual shadow of the fierce confrontation he had shared with Jannah earlier in her room still clouding his features. A few feet away, Shadron, sat perched on the edge of a neighboring armchair, swirling a glass of liquor while keeping an anxious eye on the doors.

Across the room, near the large floor-to-ceiling windows, stood Damian and Jannah. Jannah’s face was pale and exhausted from the emotional toll of the day. Damian stood close to her side, his presence a quiet, protective shield, though his eyes never left Dorrent’s face. Joanne Moscow sat rigidly on a plush loveseat, her manicured fingers clawing into the fine fabric.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by a booming, authoritative voice echoing from the grand hallway.

"Where is he?! Where is that arrogant boy?!"

Shadron froze, the liquor sloshing over the rim of his glass. His eyes widened in panic as he recognized the sharp, unforgiving baritone instantly. He leaned forward, hiss-whispering across the space toward the sofa. "Dorrent... Dorrent, wake up. Your father-in-law is here. John Moscow is outside, and he sounds like he’s ready to tear this entire estate down stone by stone. You are dead, my friend. Absolutely dead."

Dorrent didn’t even open his eyes. A cold, unbothered smirk played on his handsome lips as he let out a low breath. "Let him roar, Shadron. I haven’t committed any crime."

Before Shadron could reply, the double doors were violently pushed aside. John Moscow stepped into the lounge, his features twisted into a mask of fury. Behind him walked his wife, Dyesebel Moscow, her expensive diamond jewelry clicking against her collarbone, her eyes flashing with rage. They didn’t wait for an invitation. John marched directly into the center of the room, his footsteps vibrating through the floor, and slammed himself down into the wide armchair directly opposite Dorrent and Shadron. Dyesebel sat right beside him, her spine as rigid as a steel rod.

Shadron immediately looked down, fascinated by the ice cubes melting in his glass, desperately avoiding the lethal glares radiating from the Moscows.

John Moscow leaned forward, his hands slamming down onto his knees as he fixed Dorrent with a piercing, venomous look. "How long are you going to keep playing these pathetic games, Dorrent?" John demanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous, low vibration that filled the entire space. "When exactly are you going to marry our daughter? Let’s make one thing clear to you right now—it is not like the Moscow family is begging for this alliance. This marriage is for the supreme benefit of the Grefo family too! The merger between our corporate empires will permanently solidify Gammar Technology Company’s dominance internationally. So stop stalling."

Dorrent slowly opened his eyes, his gaze shifting toward the older man with a terrifying calm. He didn’t sit up. He merely tilted his head back against the sofa cushions, his voice smooth. "Have the two of you not met with my father, yet? I bet he is on his way to your estate right now to talk about the marriage annulment."

Before the shouting could escalate, the side door clicked open. Himelda Grefo swept into the living room, her dress rustling as she quickly moved toward the center of the chaos. She shot a sharp, warning glare at her son before turning to the Moscows with a tight, reassuring smile.

"Calm down, Joanne, sweetie. Please, everyone sit down," Himelda cooed, her voice forced into a smooth purr as she reached out to pat Joanne’s trembling shoulder. She looked at John and Dyesebel, waving her hands dismissively. "The Moscow family has absolutely nothing to worry about. The marriage is not going to be annulled. Dorrent is going to marry Joanne as planned. It’s all just a big misunderstanding... only a silly prank my son is playing to test your patience."

The doors of the main entrance clicked open once more, and footsteps resonated through the room. Guron Grefo stepped into the living room, his silver-streaked hair catching the light, his face completely stoic and unreadable.

He stopped right at the edge of the carpet, looking over the chaotic gathering before locking his cold eyes onto Himelda and the Moscow family.

"It is not a prank at all."