The Almighty Dominance

Chapter 274

'Get your pathetic face out of my sight, Scarlett! Every t| lay eyes on you, my blood boils a little hotter, and

if you linger any longer."

*

"Believe me, | might just lose control and kill you right here," Jericho snarled venomously, his hand sweeping

through the air like he was dismissing an annoying insect.

"Yes, sir..." Scarlett's voice trembled, her pride crushed beneath his harsh words.

She bowed deeply, her face etched with pain and shadowed by share.

Turning swiftly, she hurried away, shoulders hunched with humiliation.

Inside her chest, dread coiled tightly, eclipsing even her former rage.

Scarlett knew better than to entertain any reckless thoughts this time. If Owen Whitman, powerful and

untouchable, had met such a brutal end, what chance did someone like her stand?

And with Jericho clearly aligned with Alex now, she knew her family could easily be next on the chopping block.

Everyone in town knew Jericho Kane was a lunatic, and lately, he'd grown even more unhinged since losing his

prized governorship-almost as if he feared that damned slum doctor more than death itself.

After Scarlett vanished, a quiet moment passed before Bella moved closer and gently hugged her father, trying

to reassure him.

"Father, Alex is kind-hearted. He'll forgive Scarlett eventually, I'm sure of it."

Jericho sighed deeply, then cast a speculative glance at his daughter. "Bella, tellsomething honestly-do you

have feelings for that boy?"

Alex was close to the King, after all.

Perhaps through Alex, he could claw his way back into power.

The idea swirled tantalizingly in his mind, brightening his grim expression.

'If that boy becomes my son-in-law, imagine how much better our lives could become!"

"What?" Bella stammered, her eyes widening in shock before her cheeks flooded scarlet.

"Father! How could you say something like that? Of course not!"

Jericho chuckled dryly, his lips curving into a knowing smile.

"It's alright, Bella. Your father wasn't born yesterday-I see more clearly than you realize. If you fancy someone,

don't waste tdenying it. Be brave enough to admit it."

Bella lowered her gaze, her voice shaking slightly as her neck flushed brighter. "Father, Alex saved my life-I'm

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simply grateful, nothing more."

"Just gratitude?" Jericho laughed softly, amusement sparking in his eyes.

"If it's truly more than that, my dear, seize the chance and chase after him. Men like Alex don't caround

often, and if you manage to capture his heart, it'd be a stroke of fortune for both you and me."

Finally relaxing, Jericho laughed heartily, sensing opportunity amidst the chaos.

In the grand Whitman mansion, night had long fallen, wrapping the estate in heavy silence when urgent

knocking shattered the

peace.

The elderly butler's voice trembled anxiously from the other side of George Whitman's door, "Sir, forgivefor

disturbing your rest, but something terribly urgent demands your immediate attention."

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Chapter 274

George Whitman stirred awake instantly, the shadows of concern creasing his weathered fare. "Enter"

The butler stepped cautiously into the dimly lit room, finding, George already upright on his bed, clutching a

strange dociment that had mysteriously appeared at his side

George's eves narrowed suspiciously. "Did you leave this here?"

"No, sir. I've only just entered," the butler replied nervously, stepping closer as curiosity and dread twisted inside

George

Frowning deeply, George opened the document and was met with Horrifying images-mutilated corpses, families

grieving, all linked to Owen Whitman's monstrous deeds.

His heart twisted painfully with sorrow and shame.

"Sir," the butler interjected urgently, his voice breaking with tension, "I have dreadful news."

"What is it?" George growled, his eyes fixed grimly on the chilling photographs. "It's Master Owen, sir... someone

has brutally severed all four of his limbs," the butler choked out the words, trembling visibly.

"What?" George's voice cracked sharply, horror flooding his face as he looked up. "And your son, Jed-he's been

murdered," the butler continued, voice shaking.

"His mistress witnessed the entire scene. She said an intruder burst into the room and shot him in the head,

declaring led responsible for covering up Owen's wickedness."

With trembling hands, George flipped to the final page of the document, where a chilling message awaited him

in bold handwriting:

"Considering your past service to Texas with justice, | grant you one chance to make this right."

A cold shiver ran down George's spine. He placed the papers down beside him, drawing a ragged breath.

"Whoever left this could have killedeasily tonight, yet my good deeds sparedthis time. | doubt I'll be so

fortunate again."

"What should we do, sir?" the butler asked nervously.

"Do nothing," George commanded decisively, his voice steely.

"There will be no retaliation. Warn every member of this family to lie low immediately. Any misdeeds must stop

this instant- otherwise, they'll answer directly to me."

"Yes, sir," the butler nodded obediently, relief flashing briefly across his tense features.

"Owen picked a fight with the wrong man. Strip him of every allowance, expel him permanently from our family.

Make sure he's fed and kept alive, though."

"I want him to spend every miserable day repenting for his sins," George declared bitterly, his voice ringing with

heavy judgment.

Outside, the night deepened, cloaking the Whitman mansion in solemn darkness.

Meanwhile, in the dimly lit quietude of the clinic, Josephine tossed restlessly in her bed, trapped within the cruel

grasp of a nightmare that twisted her peaceful slumber into horror.

In her unsettling dream, she was innocently opening the clinic doors as she did each morning, when suddenly, a

group of ruthless strangers stormed inside.

Their faces etched with sinister purpose, they tore apart the clinic, smashing cabinets and scattering precious

medical supplies in a relentless hunt for something they called

2/3

"Heavenfoot.

Desperate, Josephine fought back fiercely, but the intruders numbered a dozen strong, overpowering her easily.

Before she could gather her senses, she was bound and dragged away, a helpless pawn in their cruel game.

Their demands were clear-they wanted Alex, and she was the ball to draw him

out,

Through the fog of terror, she recognized a face among them: Owen, a brash, arrogant young man whose eyes

burned with entitlement, believing that the world bent solely to his whims.

As she recoiled from his sneering visage, a phone rang out sharply. She remembered hearing Owen call the

woman on the other end by name-Scarlett as Scarlett coldly commanded Owen to violate Josephine.

Dragged roughly toward a shadowed room by a towering bodyguard, Josephine braced herself for unspeakable

horror.

But just before they reached their grim destination, the bodyguard leaned close,

his voice low but surprisingly gentle amidst the

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chaos.

"I have no desire to harm you," he muttered, his eyes filled with unexpected

remorse.

"I've endured enough under that arrogant young master. But scream for me, scream loud enough to convince

him. He's twisted enough to enjoy the sound of a woman's suffering-it excites him!?

Heart pounding in terror, yet grasping this small mercy, Josephine let out harrowing screams, each cry piercing

the darkness, though no harm befell her.

After what felt like an eternity, her screams subsided, and she asked the guard softly, her voice shaking, "If you

know how evil he is, why do you continue serving him?"

"My family depends on me," he whispered, shand determination warring within his gaze.

"I've been trapped, not knowing when or how to stop. But seeing his depravity tonight has broken my chains.

Tomorrow, no matter the cost, I'll leave this monstrous life behind."

Yet, Owen's depravity knew no bounds. Moments later, he dragged Josephine into a grand hall, his eyes glittering

with sinister anticipation.

Knowing that death was preferable to the vile violation Owen intended, Josephine gathered her courage and

flung herself from the penthouse balcony into the abyss

below.

Instead of crushing darkness, she landed gently, and before her stood Alex, his comforting presence a soothing

balm against

her nightmare.

Slowly, reality shifted, and Josephine opened her eyes to the familiar walls of her clinic room, her heart still

racing from the terror she'd endured.

"Josephine? Are you awake?" Alex's voice was soft, filled with concern and quiet

reassurance.

Blinking away confusion, Josephine whispered hoarsely, "Alex...I had such a terrible dream."

Her gaze drifted uncertainly before locking anxiously onto Alex. "Or was it real?”

"You're awake now," Alex reassured gently, placing a calming hand on her shoulder.

"It's over. You're safe, and nothing like that will ever happen again. | promise."

Josephine drew a shaky breath, the memories still vivid and unsettling. Her eyes widened suddenly with concern.

"There was someone decent among those monsters-a bodyguard who protected

to him?"