The Tycoon's Odyssey

Chapter 292: 292:Greetings Father In Law

As the call ended, Suri sighed, only to feel a pair of warm, gentle hands slide around her neck. A second later, she felt Evan's face nuzzling into her shoulder, his arms pulling her close like she was his favorite comfort.

"Now, what's this?" she teased. "Can't even stand a few minutes apart?"

Evan chuckled, his eyes gleaming as he breathed in her scent. "What can a man do when he has such a fragrant, soft wife?"

His gaze sparkled mischievously, and she could see a playful hunger in his expression like he wanted even more of her closeness.

Suri smiled and reached up to trace the line of his cheek before she planted a soft peck and chuckled. "I didn't know you were this possessive."

Chapter Experience:

Evan's playful expression shifted, his eyes narrowing with an intense gleam. "You haven't seen the full extent of it."

That change in the intensity of his gaze sent a thrill through her. But then his face grew serious, a sharpness settling in his tone. "Suri, tell me—how do you want to handle all this?"

Suri met his gaze, pausing before she answered. "Didn't you hear what I just said? Sometimes, it's best to step back. Not every exit needs to be grand."

He studied her intently as if searching for some hidden answer. "Do you really mean that?"

She lowered her eyes, feeling the weight of it all pressing down. "I'm just tired, Evan. Tired of keeping up appearances, of having to prove myself, defend myself… all while I haven't even done anything wrong. It's exhausting."

Evan gently lifted her chin, his eyes searching her face with a gentle insistence. "You don't have to be tough all the time. You can let go with me, Suri. I've let you see my weaknesses—so show me yours. There's no need to act strong all the time."

Hearing his words, Suri felt something stir deep within her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his chest, letting herself sink into his warmth. "I don't care about the rumors," she murmured.

"But… it hurts when they insult my mother. She has done nothing wrong, and if she knew what they're saying… it would break her heart." Her voice softened, catching slightly. "And being labeled as a 'vixen's daughter'… it's hard to bear."

Evan closed his eyes, rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles as he considered her pain. He knew he had the power to silence her critics, to erase these insults if he wished. But he wondered whether that was the right approach—whether it would resolve the deeper wound she carried.

"Suri," he murmured at last, "I can make all of this disappear. But first, I need to speak with your father."

She lifted her head, startled by his words. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"We can clear everything else but not the accusation tied to your father's name. For that, we will need to reach him."

Suri's brows furrowed as she thought about this. In fact, she knew that it would be simple as long as she gave him a call, but her pride didn't want her to rely on that man's help.

Noticing her hesitation, Evan smirked. "Even if you called him, he wouldn't pick up."

"What did you mean by that?" Suri asked with a frown.

"Because there is a mole on your father's side who is blocking all the communication."

Suri realized something, then looked at Evan, "So now what are we gonna do?"

Evan grinned and a confident glint flashed in his eyes. "It's time to meet my father-in-law."

_____

A few hours later...

Evan decided to leave immediately without any delay. The sooner they had handled this, the better it was.

"Suri, look after my parents."

"Of course," she replied. "Even if you didn't ask, they are mine too."

Suri watched as Evan prepared to leave, determination etched on his face. She reached out, hoping that he might reconsider his decision. "I want to come with you," she said softly, a hint of worry in her eyes.

Evan turned to her, his gaze firm but gentle. "Not this time, Suri. I need to do this alone."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, giving her a slight smile. "Trust me. I'll handle it."

Before she could respond, he turned and walked toward the waiting jet, his coat trailing behind him in the wind. Moments later, the engines roared to life, and the jet lifted off, heading straight for Great Royal, Luxembourg.

_____

In the grand study of the Barret estate, Nathaniel Barret sat alone, leaning back in his leather armchair as he took slow, contemplative drags from his cigar. Smoke drifted lazily around him, filling the room with a faint scent of tobacco. His gaze was distant, deep in thought, as he pondered the weight of his family's legacy and the troubles that had recently started brewing around them.

A sudden knock broke his reverie. He looked up as his secretary entered, his face pale with panic. Sensing the tension, Nathaniel frowned. "What's going on?"

"Sir," the secretary stammered, "someone is here to see you… but he doesn't have an appointment."

Nathaniel waved dismissively, his voice cold. "I don't have time to entertain unannounced visitors. Tell him to schedule an appointment like everyone else."

The secretary bowed, ready to obey, but just then a powerful voice boomed from outside. "No need for that!"

The sound sent a jolt through Nathaniel, and before he could process what was happening, the double doors of his study burst open with a crash. Through the smoke and dust, he saw a tall figure striding forward with a commanding presence, his eyes gleaming with a fierce intensity. Behind him, bodies of guards lay slumped across the corridor, groaning in pain as they struggled to rise.

Nathaniel's jaw clenched as he took in the sight, his heart pounding with disbelief. His guards were highly trained, yet this man had dispatched them as if they were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Who could have such kind of strength?

"You—who are you?" Nathaniel demanded, anger and wariness flickering in his gaze.

The man smirked, undeterred by Nathaniel's reaction. He took a step closer, his posture exuding confidence and pride, his eyes never wavering from Nathaniel's. "Father-in-law," he said, his tone laced with mockery, "is this how you greet your beloved son-in-law?"

Nathaniel's face drained of color. "What?" he gasped, the cigar held in his fingers slipping away and landing on the floor with a thud.