?Chapter 311:


    “Ah!” Dunn copsed, clutching his arm as pain tore through him in waves. Not a single person stepped forward to help—just like what had happened to Boris earlier.


    Murray trembled, beads of sweat dripping down his temples and soaking his cor.


    The entire banquet hall turned to stone. No whispers. No movements. Just fear hanging in the air like smoke.


    Many in the room couldn’t make sense of Merlin’s actions, but Hailee knew exactly why it had happened. Merlin was avenging her. Back then, Dunn had followed Boris’s lead, dialing her just to pressure, threaten, and insult her. So, Merlin crushed Dunn’s hand to make him pay.


    Eyes sharp and unreadable, Merlin shifted his attention to the next target—Hester. She immediately started retreating, her voice shaking. “P-please don’t! I won’t bother Hailee again, I swear it!” Panic took over, and Hester turned, ready to flee.


    But her escapested less than two steps—Lucas and a wall of bodyguards blocked her like a closing gate.


    “You’re not finished here, Miss Sampson. Mr. kely hasn’t dismissed you,” Lucas said, calm and steady.


    Her face drained of color as she slowly pivoted back to face Merlin. “I know I crossed the line,” she stammered. “I was wrong.”


    Merlin didn’t blink. His expression stayed unreadable, but his words were chilling. “I don’t strike women. Handle it yourself.” Then, Merlin gave Lucas the faintest nod.


    Without dy, Lucas reached for a vase and extended it toward Hester. “Mr. kely enjoys a bit of theater. Go on—smash it against your head.”


    The reaction was instant. Gasps rippled through the crowd. Some recoiled. Others simply stood frozen, unable to believe what they were hearing. Even Merlin’s subordinates carried a grim, deadly edge. Though Lucas spoke with the same polished tone he always used, themand he delivered couldn’t have been more ruthless. A blow to the skull wasn’t just humiliating. It was brutal. If Hester went through with the vase, she’d be a bloody mess. Beauty meant everything to women. Her appearance was a currency she clung to in high society. Smashing a vase on her own head? That was a price she couldn’t bring herself to pay.


    Hester’s gaze darted between the vase Lucas held and the unreadable coldness etched into Merlin’s expression. Then, with a sharp, earsplitting cry, she broke down sobbing.


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    On most days, Hester looked lovely, and with her engagement makeup done to perfection, a gentle sob might have made her seem fragile and sympathetic. But this time, panic twisted her crying into something almost monstrous. Her jaw dropped wide, and tears poured uncontrobly like water from a broken pipe, turning her grief into something exaggerated and absurd.


    Her wailing echoed off the walls, filling every inch of the space. However, that piercing sound was abruptly silenced by a sudden, crisp smack—the unmistakable crack of a p.


    The room fell dead quiet. A simple gesture from Lucas had sent one of the bodyguards forward, and thetter delivered the strike without a word.


    Merlin’s men were known for their size and strength, their hands hitting like steel. Hester’s cheek puffed up instantly, her face swelling in a horrifying, unnatural way. Her teeth shifted painfully in her gums. Every person in the room sat frozen, stunned by how swiftly and mercilessly it had been carried out.


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