Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption by Lilyheart

Chapter 294: I promised to stay safe...

Hearing her mutter that name, their eyes snapped to her, narrowing with shock and unease. For the first time, uncertainty bled into their confident expressions as they tried to comprehend who she truly was.

The identity of the Night Merchant was shrouded in mystery and wasn’t common knowledge. No one knew their faces. No one could track their movements. It wasn’t something anyone could simply uncover.

And more surprising is the fact, it has been identified by this simple woman and the woman had just subdued five trained assassins in her living room.

Yet here she stood totally calm, collected, and utterly unfazed. A far cry from the fragility they expected. She had handled their attack like a seasoned warrior.

Their hearts pounded, fear and uncertainty creeping in as they watched her. Thoughts raced in their minds:

"Who is she?"

"She isn’t simple."

"Mission failed."

Jessica’s eyes narrowed as the realization sank in. She had suspected their identities from the moment the attack began.

She had studied their movements closely, there was a sharpness to their movements, a calculated rhythm in their formation.

These weren’t common thugs.

Every strike, every blow, had purpose and lethality to eliminate the target. There was no doubt anymore. It wasn’t random violence; it was the work of trained operatives —Assassins

Now, with the mark she had uncovered —the crescent dagger tattoo behind their ears, the final puzzle piece clicked into place and her suspicions were confirmed. She knew exactly who they served.

Jessica stood upright, letting the weight of the realization settle over her. Her voice was low, laced with steely control.

"I have no quarrel with your boss," she said quietly, her tone cool and steady. "I haven’t crossed him. I haven’t offended him."

She stepped closer. "So why send trained experts after me?" Her voice dropped, low and dangerous. "What does he want?"

Silence.

Her anger stirred. Without hesitation, she raised the wire and slammed it down on one of their trembling hands.

A scream tore from his throat, fingers flailing as blood spurted from the torn flesh.

She spun toward another, grabbing his hand and clamping it down with slow pressure. He let out a muffled cry—the pain sharp and searing. And she wasn’t even using full force.

"I can do this all night," she warned. Her voice was a chilling whisper. "Talk... or I’ll start with your joints."

into an eerie silence. Behind her, Deborah held her breath. The household staff remained frozen,

hearts screamed denial yet in their

"It’s a hallucination."

definitely a dream. She’s just a

to be

is gentle. Refined. She wouldn’t—she

be some

kind and well-mannered—it has to be

denying the truth. And the blood on her hands and the violence she

the woman they thought they knew. Silently, each made a decision. "Never cross

then, a loud screech of tires echoed from outside. Deborah alarmed rushed toward

door

The tension heightening as they

coiled ready to strike, but the moment her eyes recognized the

stormed in like a tempest, eyes blazing. He

sharp gaze sweeping the room in

barbed wire slipped from her hand and landed on the floor with a heavy thud. The men closest to

gaze softened at the sight

Her shoulders sagged.

and overwhelming, washed over

could think or breathe, she was wrapped in his arms—his steps long, his grip tight, as

"Ouch," She winced faintly.

her tremble, Davis slowed and loosened his grip, looking down at her with worry etched

cheek pressed to his chest. She felt his heart hammering wildly in his chest, his breath ragged

felt safe. Slowly, she caressed his back, the motion tender. She

exhaustion she had pushed aside came rushing back Her eyes stung—but she

poised for battle, began to unravel. In his arms, her

how many more were out there, or what

the pregnancy at

the weight on her chest began to lift. She allowed

to the wind and rush in like

"Are we really still talking about caution at this point?" he murmured. His voice was soft but firm, a mixture of relief

stepped back, his eyes scanning her body—bloodstained. Bruises Calm. Alive. He

the bandaged arm, a frost crept into his expression.

moved carefully over her clothes, checking the traces of

five men groaning on the floor, writhing in pain then back at her. He didn’t need to ask