Vengeance in His Bed novel Chapter 166

Chapter 166: The Slum Fire Secret

The five purple, distinct bruises formatting around the leader’s throat were still swelling, turning a sickening shade of violet against his pale skin as he stood trembling before the desk. He no longer wore his black mask; it had been tossed onto the floor along with the shattered remains of two rifles. The remaining twelve men stood in a rigid, terrified line behind him, their chests still heaving awkwardly as their lungs desperately tried to purge the lingering, phantom trace of Dorrent Grefo’s suffocating winter-frost pheromones.

Bellero Boren didn’t even have his glass of bourbon in hand this time. His hands were curled into tight, shaking fists right on top of his ledgers, his golden eyes burning with a monstrous, cold fire as he stared down the men he had funded with millions of credits.

"You shouldn’t have even bothered coming back to this estate to report your pathetic existence to me if you failed the primary objective," Bellero delivered. He slowly leaned his torso across the desk, his white hair gleaming under the single lamp. "Tell me... what exactly does it require for fifteen mercenaries to snatch one single, fragile slum woman away from two solitary men in an open graveyard? Tell me!"

The leader swallowed hard, his vocal cords clicking painfully against his bruised larynx. "Sir... the tycoon—"

"You are nothing but miserable, spineless failures!" Bellero roared, his fist slamming against the table with a resounding crack that echoed sharply off the walls. "Every single one of you! I gave you a perfect window while the Grefos were distracted by a peasant’s burial! And what did you achieve? You didn’t just drop the prize—you managed to alert Dorrent Grefo that the girl is wanted by an outside faction! You fools!"

He paced behind his chair. "The directive was clear! You were supposed to execute this extraction discreetly! No noise, no alarms, no footprints! Now, that S-tier monster knows exactly what we are hunting!"

"Sir, with all due respect, that graveyard was the only physical window we had to lay our hands on her!" the leader wheezed out defensively, his hands trembling as he gestured wildly toward the floor. "We cannot enter the primary Grefo estate lines! Their private security infrastructure is entirely unbreachable from the outside, and their internal automated turrets would have slaughtered us before we even cleared the perimeter gate! We had to strike when she was out in the open!"

"And you still failed!" Bellero shrieked, his face turning an angry shade of crimson as he reached toward the drawer of his desk, his fingers itching for his firearm to clean out the room.

"Stop it, Father."

Damian’s calm voice sliced through the old man’s raging heat like an icy scalpel.

Damian was standing near the velvet drapes, his arms crossed tightly against his chest. His handsome features were entirely devoid of emotion, though a troubled shadow lurked within his eyes as he watched the team’s pathetic state. He took a slow step forward, his shoes clicking quietly against the Persian carpet as he drew all the attention toward himself.

"I told you just last week that dealing with Dorrent Grefo is not an easy task," Damian stated flatly, his eyes locking onto his father’s furious gaze. "The man is a biological anomaly. He possesses an S-tier primal core that completely defies standard tactical metrics. These men... they are standard Alphas and Betas. They never stood a single chance of outmatching him in a physical territory dispute, especially not when his possessive instincts are triggered."

Damian stopped right next to the line of mercenaries, his eyes tracing the marks on their gear. "He walked right through their rifle fire without even flinching. Your brute-force methods were completely useless from the very beginning, Father."

Bellero spun around to face his son, his jaw locked tight. "So you are standing there defending these useless dogs, Damian?! You are validating their failure?!"

"No, I am stating a scientific fact," Damian hissed back, his voice rising into a sharp, venomous frequency as he stepped closer to the desk, his own A-tier pheromones flaring slightly in frustration. "And more importantly, I am stating the reality of the damage you have just caused. Look at what your impatience has achieved, Bellero! Now, you have successfully alerted Dorrent. And because he already suspects my interest in Jannah, he isn’t going to go looking for these faceless mercenaries. He is going to come looking for war directly from me!"

Damian slammed his palm against the edge of the desk, his face just inches from his father’s. "He is going to bring the entire weight of the Grefo to my hospital door, and right to this sanctum! You have put a massive target directly on my back!"

Bellero let out a short, mocking laugh that sounded completely hollow, his wrinkled features twisting into a look of chilling condescension as he looked at his son’s panicked state. "And what if he does come for war, Damian? Aren’t you an Alpha male of the Boren line? Aren’t you a man? If he comes looking for blood, you should stand your ground and deal with him like a true sovereign instead of whining to me like a frightened child!"

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