The Imposter Bride (Natalia and Magnus) novel Chapter 513

Johanson sneered dismissively, "Cut the crap! I saved your life, so now you belong to me. You're a servant in my household, and you've got no right to complain. Ask anyone around here; once you're on my estate, you don't get to call the shots. You either fall in line, or you face the consequences. Choose wisely."

Faced with this ultimatum, Jonas felt there was nothing left to discuss. His expression hardened as he spoke lowly, "I tried to reason with you, but you're hell-bent on being difficult. Fine, let's settle this the old-fashioned way—with fists!"

With that, Jonas swung a punch at Johanson. He knew this young man of his own age was the leader of the estate. Only by bringing him down could Jonas hope to gain his freedom.

Johanson, caught off-guard by Jonas' sudden aggression, quickly raised his hands to block and counterattacked with a vicious kick.

Jonas sidestepped and lunged forward again, aiming for a grapple.

Johanson’s lips curved slightly—a worthy opponent had arisen. But he didn't panic. Instead, he shifted his stance, his right hand subtly hooking toward Jonas' throat. Jonas dodged and continued his assault, pounding his fist toward Johanson’s chest.

The two exchanged blows in a frenzied dance. They were evenly matched, making it hard to predict the outcome.

From her vantage point upstairs in the manor, Anna watched the brawl between Jonas and Johanson with trepidation. She feared Johanson might be at a disadvantage, yet, strangely enough, she found herself inwardly rooting for the stranger, hoping he'd escape unharmed.

Onlookers struggled to keep up with the escalating fight, but Johanson knew better than anyone that if it continued, he'd lose to this upstart. As Johanson’s desperation grew, his punches became erratic. Jonas landed several solid hits, and Johanson began to falter.

The butler quickly ushered Anna into a room. "Miss, stay here. I'll go give the Mr. Johanson a hand."

Anna reluctantly nodded. The butler rushed downstairs, took out a small censer and lit incense within it. It was a rare poison the butler had acquired on a trip to Southeast Asia, said to be extracted from a tree by indigenous people. Lit, it would be inhaled through the pores as one sweated, causing unconsciousness.

As Jonas and Johanson fought, their sweat flowed freely. The butler fanned the smoke toward them, and soon Jonas sensed the pungent aroma. He covered his mouth and nose, but not before Johanson’s fist connected with his face.

Johanson prepared for another strike when suddenly his strength left him, and he collapsed. Jonas swayed and fell, cursing, "Despicable! Poison?!" before losing consciousness.

He approached Jonas with contempt. "In my house, you follow my rules. If you can't, I'll teach you how to behave."

Jonas spat back, "Shameless! Resorting to poison because you can't win a fair fight? Release me!"

Though Johanson’s pride was stung, he grasped the offered whip with a cruel glint in his eye. He lashed out, the whip cracking against Jonas' flesh, leaving a stark welt. Jonas clenched his teeth, meeting Jonas' eyes with an icy stare.

Not a single plea for mercy escaped his lips. Instead, he shot Johanson a contemptuous look. "Is that all you've got?" he taunted. "I'm not scared of you! Let me go, and I swear I'll beat you so bad even your own folks won't recognize you!"

His words instantly stoked a fire in Johanson’s mind. He'd lost his mother when he was just a kid, and his dad, Grant, had never been one for warm and fuzzies. Jonas' words struck a nerve for him.

"You're already a sitting duck, and still you've got a stiff upper lip?!" Johanson fumed, turning to his butler. "Lock this loudmouth in the cellar. Starve him for three days. Let's see if he's still talking tough then!"