Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom

Chapter 213

The night was deep and dense, like a canvas painted with the darkest shades of ink. Neon lights danced across the sleek body of a black Rolls-Royce, casting a surreal glow. The driver spotted Sean and swiftly opened the car door, bowing slightly, with a humble expression on his face, as he waited for Sean to step inside.

Sean cradled Claire in his arms, his crystal cufflinks shimmering subtly in the dim light. Claire nestled against him like a weary kitten, her eyes closed in peaceful slumber.

Suddenly, a shadow tore through the champagne glow of the streetlights. A fist, propelled with a fierce wind, aimed straight for Sean's face, but was intercepted by Liam just inches from its target. The sickening crack of bones echoed as the assailant let out a pained grunt, immobilized under Liam's grip.

"Sean!" the attacker shouted, struggling futilely. "We, the Linwood family, have no quarrel with you. Why did you have my parents' legs broken? Why did you send my sister to prison? What are you trying to do?"

Sean squinted, focusing on the disheveled figure before him. It was Ethan Linwood, looking far removed from his usual composed self. His suit was crumpled and hung loosely on his frame like a rag, his hair a chaotic mess across his forehead, and an unkempt beard shadowed his face, adding years to his appearance. His eyes were bloodshot, set against dark circles as if he'd been punched, and conveyed a depth of exhaustion and despair.

and confused. As she took in the tense scene

feeling suddenly empty. His brow furrowed in mild irritation as he directed an

countless nights drowning in alcohol, trying to numb the pain of her disappearance, drinking himself into a stupor until he landed in the hospital with a perforated stomach. Since being discharged, he'd been a ghost of his former self, trapped in a cycle

at redemption. Yet, to his shock, Claire seemed to have found solace in Sean's embrace. She appeared healthier, her complexion glowing with vitality, clad in a bespoke gown, and held close by Sean-a picture that stung his

time of comfort, while he remained a fool, kept

emotion, like sandpaper scraping against rough wood. "Sean Foster had my parents' legs broken.

profound as a deep lake, unwavering and unruffled. "Family? Did I

were softly spoken yet carried the weight of a bombshell, reverberating through the quiet night with a