Bride of Retribution: Aloof Billionaire's Dominant Game

”She should really feel sorry for you, serving Mr. Hughes for the Yates Family, living alone in such a big castle; as a mother, my heart truly aches.” As she spoke, Harper Johnson’s tears fell freely, like a faucet turned on and off at will.

Well, her son was gone long ago, and she had nothing else to think about.

No one understands better than Harper herself what’s in her heart: ”Harper, you don’t need to be sad. I’ll move to the small building in the back to live with Little Avery, so that the master can spend more time with you.” Finished speaking, she stood up elegantly and walked out, leaving behind a bowl half full of rice.

The dinner was indeed unsettling, with everyone lost in their own thoughts.

The moonlight seemed obscured by clouds and mist, like it was veiled in a mysterious thin gauze.

Joshua Hughes drove all the way towards the cemetery.

Six months ago, on a night just like this, he encountered the greatest danger of his life. His most formidable opponent ambushed him on his way home, while his mother was kidnapped by this lunatic enemy.

To save his mother, he was forced to injure his own eyes. In the pitch darkness, his most loyal bodyguard stood in front of him, taking seven bullets before using his last ounce of strength to guide Joshua to defeat their foe.

He saved his mother, but his good brother lost his life as a result.

Today is his birthday. On this important day, all he wanted was to come and have a drink with the brother who sacrificed everything for him...

The clouds gradually receded, and the clear moonlight slowly shone upon the cemetery. No matter how neatly and beautifully maintained, gravesites still have a fearsome aura.

No one would come here at night.

The night was as cool as water, and the night wind carried with it the sound of clothes fluttering, accompanied by light, slow footsteps. A vague fragrance, faint as a wisp, wafted through the air, lingering in the night breeze...

Under the moonlight, the silhouette of a woman gradually came into his view, presenting a uniquely distinct presence.

A dark green silk dress with hems intricately embroidered with silver thread in strange patterns; the small silver buttons closely fastened down the length of the dress, softly gleaming in the moonlight. The wide skirt was stirred by the night wind, her two arms bright as new lotus roots shining in the moonlight, seemed to glow with a faint phosphorescence.

She walked past him ever so lightly, the night wind brushing her hair against his shoulder. Even through his suit, he could feel that slight brush of her black hair, silky and soft, tempting him to caress it.

This woman was like a wisp of a ghost, so unnoticeable in her presence.

In an instant, Joshua almost thought he’d encountered the most mesmerizingly beautiful female ghost.

If not for the shallow breaths she took when passing him, it really would be hard to believe such a beautiful woman existed in the world.

She stopped near a grave, a dreamy, magical smile slowly forming at the corner of her mouth. With her delicate white hand, she retrieved a white silk handkerchief and gently wiped the tombstone.

Her lips, pale as the color of water, gently parted and closed as she murmured quietly, yet it was impossible to make out what she was saying.

In the moonlight, she possessed an almost unreal beauty, as if she didn’t belong to this world.

She drifted like a wisp of wind, her eyes holding a detachment from the world, as if she were a mirage, so near yet untouchable.

Joshua Hughes opened a bottle of wine, poured a glass for the brother resting below, the high-stemmed crystal goblet slowly filled with wine the color of pigeon blood, exuding a seductive glow. He raised the glass, lightly tapped it against the tombstone, and drank.

Who was buried beneath—someone who meant the world to her?

What kind of man could invoke such deep sorrow in a woman?

She lightly bent down, her petal-like lips kissing the cold tombstone, her long lashes fluttered like butterfly wings lightly waving in the moonlight, her alabaster fingers tenderly grazing each word inscribed upon the stone.

Following her fingertips, he could clearly see the inscription on the tomb: ”Beloved Lucas Yates.”

Just five simple words, yet she devoted her life to sketching them, as if everything in this world had vanished, leaving only her and the grave of her beloved.

She reluctantly stood up, in the moonlight appearing like a crystalline epiphyllum, its mysterious fragrance quietly blooming in her unseen beauty.

”Wenyard, are you happy today? I ate your favorite sweet soup balls, and everything you can no longer enjoy I’ll taste for you; places you can’t go to anymore, I’ll visit for you. Wenyard, I miss you so much...” Avery Jane gently caressed the stone tablet; it was half a year ago when a speeding car took her newlywed husband’s life.

No matter how deep her love, so deep she wished to die with him, she knew he wouldn’t want her unhappy, nor wished to see her die.

So, as sorrowful as she was, she had to live well for him.

No matter how much she wanted to cry, she never wanted to shed tears in front of him.

”Wenyard, goodnight. I have to go back, or else Mom will worry. Don’t worry, I promise to take good care of your mom.” She stood in the night, possessing the most beautiful grace.

His filial duties he could no longer fulfill; she would fulfill them for him in this life, for he’d already given her so much.

The night wind grew stronger, and her departing steps were as light as when she arrived.

The air current carried her faint orchid-like scent, subtle and pervasive, invading every cell of his body.

No one had ever treated him as if he didn’t exist, yet this woman’s eyes truly regarded him as invisible.

Just like when she brushed past him earlier, her gaze was unwavering, calm as a windless lake, not even rippling a bit.

”Your name?” His deep voice, as intoxicating as the finest wine, drew her in. His tall figure blocked her path back, quickly overshadowing her petite figure, blending under the moonlight.

Avery Jane glanced at Joshua Hughes without speaking, her gaze calm yet filled with a faint sadness, as if he were just air.

”Please move aside.” What should have been a voice as melodious as an oriole’s was now tired from sadness, carrying a fatal tension that penetrated his eardrums.

”Your name?” There was a slight irritation in his tone.

No one could ignore him; a big hand gripped her arm, his fingertips encountering a silky texture, her skin so beautifully supple and white, elastic, cool to the touch.

In that moment, Joshua Hughes seemed to understand what the books meant by ice muscle and jade bones.

Startled by his rude action, she took a step back.

Avery Jane looked at him warily—he was not a man to be trifled with, exuding a dangerous and lethal aura.

She wanted to break free from his grip, yet his hand was like an iron clamp, tightly holding her, its searing warmth penetrating her cool, soft skin.

”Avery Jane.” Her words were simple, without a single unnecessary syllable.

All she wanted was to leave this man quickly; he was dangerous and terrifying. Wenyard was not far away, and she didn’t want him worried for her.

”I’m Joshua Hughes. You will come to find me, remember my name.” He stood proudly as if a deity beneath the moon, declaring to her, as if the whole world obeyed his command, including her.

He was a natural catcher, while she was like an elusive wind; he closed his eyes, feeling the air current stirring his cold heart as the wind passed by.

-Wind Catcher