The Almighty Dominance novel Chapter 274

+25 BONUS

Chapter 274

‘Get your pathetic face out of my sight, Scarlett! Every time I lay eyes on you, my blood boils a little hotter, and if you linger any longer.”

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“Believe me, I 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, tell me something 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 time denying 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 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 come around 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, forgive me for disturbing your rest, but something terribly urgent demands your immediate attention.”

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Chapter 274

+25 BONUS

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, I 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 killed me easily tonight, yet my good deeds spared me this time. I 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

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“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.