The sound of the glass shattering against the floor seemed to echo forever in the quietness of the study. Guron stood frozen behind his desk, his face pale as his eyes locked onto his son with terror.

"How long?" Guron demanded, his voice cracking under a sudden panic as he leaned heavily over the desk. "How long has Jannah been in a relationship with Damian Boren, Dorrent?!"

Dorrent’s jaw tightened, hiseyes flashing with a burning jealousy at the mere mention of the doctor’s name. "I don’t know, Father," he muttered roughly, his fists clenching at his sides. "I don’t know th timeline of their little slum romance."

Guron took a shallow breath, his chest heaving as he pressed further, his eyes drilling straight into his son’s soul. "Does she love him? Does that little girl love Bellero’s boy?"

"I doubt that," Dorrent delivered coldly, an arrogant smirk touching his lips despite the raging tension in his chest. "Jannah must have forged their entire relationship just to use it as a cheap shield. She is desperately trying to keep me off from sleeping with her again, so she created this pathetic boyfriend excuse to scare me away from her bed."

Guron’s hands gripped the edge of the wood so hard the timber began to groan under his immense physical strength. He leaned in even closer, his voice dropping into a tense, desperate whisper. "Tell me the truth, Dorrent. Has Damian marked her yet? Has that Boren boy put his teeth into her neck and claimed her as his official mate?"

"Of course not!" Dorrent roared back instantly, his energy flaring up for a split second in outrage. "How could I have had sex with her twice if she was already permanently marked by another man? If his mark was on her skin, my body would have rejected her body instantly. Her scent is completely clean of his teeth."

Guron let out a long breath, but the panic in his eyes didn’t fade. "And what about their intimacy, Dorrent? Are they having sex?"

"Never," Dorrent stated with an unshakeable certainty, his chest puffing out with primal pride. "She is only nineteen years old, Father. She is innocent and had not experienced much of anything about this world before I laid my hands on her. I was the one who deflowered her. I broke her virginity myself."

Relief washed over Guron’s features, and he slammed his palm down onto the desk. "Then you must keep it exactly that way, Dorrent! You must ensure with your life that Jannah does not sleep with Damian Boren for even a single night! And listen to me carefully—you should mark her as your official mate soon. Do it immediately to avoid another man from ever claiming her or putting his scent on her skin!"

Dorrent nodded his head slowly, his eyes darkening with a vicious, predatory focus. "That is exactly what I had already thought to do, Father. I won’t let anyone else touch the only woman that makes me feel like a man"

"Wait! Stop! Both of you are completely losing your minds!" Shadron suddenly intervened from the side, stepping between the father and son, his face filled with disbelief. He grabbed Dorrent’s shoulder, shaking him aggressively to force him to open his eyes. "Dorrent, you cannot do that to her! You cannot just put your teeth into that poor girl’s neck and mark her as your permanent mate if you are not planning to marry her, only to dump her in a remote district later! You are supposed to marry Joanne in a few weeks! If you are going to mark any woman, it should be Joanne instead!"

"Nothing to worry about, Shadron?!" Guron barked back fiercely. "Of course Dorrent will make Jannah his permanent mate, and he will marry her instead of the Vice President’s daughter! And besides all of that, he doesn’t love Joanne at all! I doubt Joanne even loves him back either. It is nothing but an arranged marriage between two empires. There are zero mutual feelings between them!"

"But Dorrent also does not love Jannah, Father!" Shadron argued back loudly, his voice shaking with frustration as he refused to back down from the leader. "And Jannah completely hates Dorrent’s guts! Why on earth would two people marry each other when there is nothing but hatred and emptiness between them?!"

"As long as I get my precious grandchildren, I don’t mind a single thing about their personal feelings!" Guron shouted, his eyes flashing with ambition that brooked no further argument. He stood up to his full height, looming over his son and his friend. "Feelings are secondary, Shadron! They are both young, and they might easily grow to love each other with enough time spent in the same bed! The grandkids is the only thing that matters to the survival of this house!"

"This is completely wrong, Master Guron!" Shadron persisted, his knuckles turning white as he fought for the peace of the house. "Joanne loves Dorrent so much! She has dedicated her entire life to becoming the perfect wife for him! If you call off this wedding and throw her away for a slum girl, she will be so heartbroken and humiliated in front of the entire high district elite!"

Guron’s expression softened for a fraction of a second, pity touching his features as he picked up a fresh bottle of liquor. "I do feel somewhat sorry for her, Shadron... I truly do. But why on earth would a beautiful, elite lady like Joanne want to stay married to a man who is unable to make her sexually satisfied? My son is impotent with her. She can never experience his true power, and she also cannot give me the grandkids this family requires to survive. Marrying her would be nothing but a lifetime of misery and emptiness for both of them."

The door of the study suddenly swung open with a slow, chilling creak that made everyone freeze instantly.

Himelda stepped into the room like an elegant specter, her eyes burning with a terrifying, murderous fire that instantly lowered the temperature of the room. She had been standing out in the dark corridor, silently listening to every single dirty detail of their conversation through the crack in the door.

She marched toward the desk, her high heels cutting into the silence, her voice dripping with an unbending hatred that promised an all-out family war.

"Nothing like that will ever happen in this house unless I am physically lying dead in my grave, Guron!" Himelda delivered ruthlessly, her final words hanging in the tense air as she glared at her husband and son.