Chapter 329: A Devil’s Bargain
A Devil’s Bargain
Without wasting another moment, Zyan climbed into the back seat of the luxury sedan waiting outside the clinic.
His attendant quietly entered the passenger seat while the driver immediately started the engine.
The vehicle pulled away from the curb and merged into the afternoon traffic.
For several minutes, no one inside the car spoke.
The only sound came from the steady hum of the engine and the passing traffic outside.
Zyan leaned back against the leather seat, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
His mind remained in complete chaos.
One failure after another.
One humiliation after another.
Everything seemed to be spiraling beyond his control.
The attendant glanced into the rearview mirror several times but wisely remained silent.
Now wasn’t the time to offer advice.
His young master clearly needed time to calm himself.
Outside the window, the city rolled by.
Towering buildings reflected the afternoon sunlight.
Pedestrians walked leisurely along the sidewalks, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside the moving sedan.
Eventually, the vehicle entered a broader road leading toward the airport.
Traffic became lighter.
The driver gradually increased speed.
Then—
Without any warning...
A black Mercedes burst out from a side road.
Its engine roared.
The tires screeched violently against the asphalt.
Before the driver could react—
Bang!
A deafening crash echoed through the street.
The Mercedes slammed hard into the side of Zyan’s vehicle.
The impact shook the entire sedan.
Glass rattled.
Metal groaned.
Everyone inside was thrown violently toward one side.
Fortunately, both vehicles had been traveling at relatively low speed.
Otherwise...
The collision would have been powerful enough to send Zyan’s car rolling across the road.
The sedan finally lurched to a stop.
Smoke drifted from beneath the hood.
For a brief moment, everything became eerily quiet.
Zyan’s breathing turned ragged.
His chest rose and fell rapidly as fury overwhelmed the lingering shock.
"What the hell!"
He shoved open the car door and stormed outside.
His expensive clothes had become slightly wrinkled, and his carefully styled hair was now a mess.
The moment both feet touched the ground, his anger exploded.
"Fuck!"
"Do you even know how to drive?"
"Do you believe I’ll kill—"
The words stopped halfway.
His furious expression instantly froze.
The blood drained from his face.
Standing beside the black Mercedes...
A familiar figure slowly stepped out.
Steffan.
His calm expression carried a chilling smile that sent an icy sensation crawling down Zyan’s spine.
Their eyes met.
Time itself seemed to stop.
Fear replaced anger almost instantly.
Zyan remembered that terrifying battle with absolute clarity.
He had witnessed Steffan escaping from the encirclement of countless Ashbourne household bodyguards as though they barely existed.
That monster...
Was standing right in front of him again.
His pupils contracted sharply.
Without thinking, he turned around and rushed toward his own car.
Run.
That single thought filled his mind.
Unfortunately...
He was too slow.
A powerful hand suddenly clamped around his neck from behind.
Before Zyan could even react, his feet left the ground.
His body stiffened.
An overwhelming force crushed against his throat, making it impossible to breathe properly.
Steffan slowly lifted him as though he weighed nothing.
A cold smile spread across his face.
"Young Master Ashbourne..."
"Isn’t your Ashbourne household looking for me all over the world?"
His voice was quiet.
Almost gentle.
Yet every syllable carried terrifying pressure.
"Why run when you see me?"
Zyan desperately opened his mouth.
He wanted to answer.
He wanted to beg.
But the crushing grip around his throat reduced every word to a series of strained, meaningless sounds.
His face quickly turned red.
His hands instinctively grabbed Steffan’s wrist, trying in vain to pry it away.
It didn’t move even slightly.
Only then did the Ashbourne household attendant recover from his shock.
Realizing what had happened, his face changed dramatically.
He immediately stepped forward, raising both hands to show he had no intention of attacking.
His voice remained as calm as possible.
"Don’t be impulsive."
"Killing our young master won’t do you any good."
Steffan slowly shifted his gaze toward him.
Those cold eyes contained not the slightest trace of warmth.
"That..."
"Depends on my mood."
His smile widened faintly.
For an instant...
A terrifying killing intent flashed through his eyes.
The attendant felt his heart skip a beat.
The pressure emanating from Steffan was far greater than before.
Steffan had never forgotten the humiliation brought by the Ashbourne household’s relentless pursuit.
Every ambush.
Every assassin.
Every attempt to corner him.
Those memories remained carved into his heart.
Even now, simply seeing someone from the Ashbourne household was enough to awaken the desire to kill.
But...
Today’s objective was different.
Slowly, the murderous aura surrounding him faded.
He forced himself to suppress the impulse buried deep within his heart.
He had come here with a purpose.
Killing Zyan now would only complicate matters.
Dangling helplessly in Steffan’s grip, Zyan struggled to swallow.
Cold sweat rolled down his forehead.
His voice trembled as he forced the words out.
"Steffan... let’s talk this out, there’s no need for violence, right? I have no grudge against you."
The words came out broken and unsteady.
Zyan Ashbourne’s face had already turned pale, and his legs felt as though they no longer belonged to him. Even after Steffan loosened his grip enough for him to speak, his entire body continued to tremble uncontrollably.
His heartbeat thundered inside his chest.
At that moment, he understood one cruel reality.
Whether Steffan had released him or not...
He might not survive today.
The image of Steffan breaking through countless elite guards from the Ashbourne household flashed through his mind again. It had looked less like a man fighting and more like a beast tearing through prey.
That memory alone was enough to crush what little courage he had left.
To Zyan, the man standing before him wasn’t simply powerful.
He was a monster.
Steffan’s eyes narrowed.
A mocking smile slowly spread across his face.
"No grudge?"
He let out a cold laugh that carried not the slightest trace of warmth.