?Chapter 1728:


    “No.” Alban’s voice fell like a de—clean, decisive, leaving no room for negotiation.


    This time, Violette had dared to scheme behind his back. And if she could do it once, who was to say she wouldn’t dare even more the next time—especially if she learned there were no real consequences waiting for her?


    Violette’s expression copsed at once. The color drained further from her face, reced by something sharp and ugly. She bit down on her lower lip hard enough to sting, her fingers curling into tight fists at her sides. Her chest felt heavy, as though something were pressing down on it relentlessly. Misery washed over her in waves, and beneath it burned a fierce, stubborn refusal to ept what she was being handed.


    Marry Jaxen? Was he even worthy of such a thing?


    The man she wanted was Alban. There had never been anyone else. How could Jaxen possiblypare—how could he even be mentioned in the same breath? Whether it was family standing, personal bearing, or sheer presence, Jaxen fell short on every front. There wasn’t a single aspect in which he could rival Alban.


    “Alban,” Violette said, her voice trembling despite her effort to steady it, “are you trying to ruin me? I don’t want to marry him. The Wade family stands with the Jones family—we’re on opposing sides.”


    “Once you’re married,” Alban replied coolly, “that won’t be the case anymore.”


    For a brief moment, Violette’s mind went utterly nk. Words deserted her, leaving only the hollow echo of his sentence ringing in her ears.


    “You have only those two paths to choose from,” Alban said tly. Without another nce, he turned and walked away, his decision already carved in stone.


    Panic surged through Violette. She rushed after him on instinct, only to be yanked back by Jaxen.


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    “Let go of me!” she snapped, spinning around, her eyes zing with unfiltered hatred as they locked onto him.


    Jaxen was just as tense, frustration boiling beneath the surface, but he knew there was no way out anymore. There was only one option left. If he didn’t convince Violette to marry him now, he would walk away from this with nothing at all.


    “I know you want to marry Alban,” Jaxen said, forcing his voice into something steady. “But after being caught like this with me—do you really think you still have a chance?”


    The words detonated in her mind. Violette froze, her thoughts scattering into nothingness.


    Deep down, she had already known the truth. Being discovered in such apromising situation—with another man, no less, and by Alban himself—had likely shattered any remaining possibility of marrying into the Martel family. Still, she had clung to a thin, foolish thread of hope, until Jaxen’s blunt cruelty severed itpletely.


    Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. She clenched her teeth, fury and humiliation twisting together in her chest, her hatred for Jaxen burning hotter by the second.


    “Following Alban’s instructions is the most beneficial path for both of us,” Jaxen pressed on.


    “Beneficial?” Violette shot back, her voice shaking. “For whom? This only benefits you!”


    If he hadn’te to this room—if he hadn’t appeared at all—none of this would have happened. Even if her scheme against Alban had failed, she might still have had a chance. At the very least, she wouldn’t have been cornered into marrying Jaxen of all people.


    Jaxen fell silent for a moment, as if weighing his next words carefully. Then, abruptly, he asked, “You hate Miss Jones, don’t you?”


    Violette’s movements stilled. Her expression shifted instantly—guarded and sharp. “What are you trying to say?” she asked warily.


    Jaxen leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper near her ear. “My goal is to be the top family in Lionesspaw.”


    With a single sentence, heid his ambition bare.


    Violette stiffened, stunned into stillness. The Wade family was supposedly closely allied with the Jones family—and yet here he was, speaking of recing them? So the warmth between the two families had been nothing more than a carefully staged performance. Beneath polite smiles and surface-level cooperation, cracks had already begun to spread.


    Slowly regaining herposure, Violette let out a cold, incredulousugh. “Do you even hear yourself? The Jones family isn’t something you can just topple. Even the Martel family hasn’t seeded. And you think you can?”


    She lifted a brow, her gaze dripping with contempt. Jaxen’s abilities were barely worth mentioning—he wasn’t even qualified to be Alban’s servant, yet he was daring to dream of overthrowing the Jones family. If they were truly easy to defeat, Alban would have crushed them long ago. Jaxen wouldn’t have even had a chance to step onto the stage.


    Jaxen’s face darkened, anger ring violently beneath the surface. His teeth ground together before he finally spoke.


    “Don’t underestimate me,” he said, each word forced out with quiet menace. “Compared to Alban, I have a better chance at sess. The Jones family guards against your family and the Martels—but they aren’t wary of me.” His eyes gleamed with cold calction. “Sooner orter, my sister will marry into their family. When that happens, we’ll have someone on the inside working with us.”


    He paused, his voice dropping lower, heavy with certainty. “That tough nut may be hard to crack—but that doesn’t mean it can’t be worn down. Bit by bit. I will rece them. Sooner orter.”


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