The Blood Contract
Chapter 51: Stop barking

Chapter 51: Stop barking

Mitchell didn’t even blink. "Paper wife," she repeated, chin lifting defiantly. "Or isn’t that what you are?" Her smirk widened. "Oh wait, maybe I should have said temporary Mrs." She tapped a finger against her lips in fake thoughtfulness. "Is that better?"

The insult landed like a physical blow to Serena’s chest. All of her carefully constructed composure shattered, scattering everywhere all around her like pieces of broken glass. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t engage, wouldn’t give this woman the satisfaction. But this - this was too much.

"Get out before I drag you out by myself." The threat rolled off Serena’s tongue with deadly seriousness.

Mitchell actually laughed, a high, grating sound that cut through the tension in the room. "I should get out?" She tossed her hair over one shoulder, her lips curling into a smirk. "Who the hell do you think you are to tell me to get out?" Her sharp gaze raked over Serena with open contempt, lingering just long enough to make her point. "Stop barking."

With that, she turned on her heel and sauntered toward the stairs, her heels clicking against the floor with deliberate slowness. Just before disappearing, she threw a final parting shot over her shoulder. "Find someone else to do the job, Darrell."

For several heartbeats, Serena stood frozen, her hands clenching at her sides. The insult burned in her ears, sharp and searing. She had resolved not to cause trouble tonight, to keep her temper in check—but this blatant disrespect... it just pushed her to the edge.

"Madam, please don’t listen to her," Darrell said urgently, his voice tight with concern as he recognized the storm brewing in Serena’s expression. "She’s just talking nonsense—don’t let her get to you."

Serena’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. "I might have believed she was talking nonsense if this were the first time," she said, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "But she just said I’m barking." A cold, dangerous smile curved her lips as her eyes darkened. "I’ll show her that I don’t just bark—I bite as well."

Without another word, she turned sharply and strode toward the kitchen, her movements swift and purposeful. The watching staff scattered like leaves before a storm, instinctively retreating from the danger radiating off her in waves. Drawers flew open with violent precision, rattling against their frames, until she found what she was looking for—a sleek chef’s knife. Its polished blade caught the light, glinting with a deadly promise.

"Ma’am, please let it go," Darrell pleaded desperately from the doorway. "Boss is in a very bad mood."

Serena didn’t even glance at him as she strode past, her steps purposeful and unyielding.

"Do I look like I’m in a very good mood?" she asked, her voice dripping with lethal calm. The coldness in her tone sent a shiver down his spine, making him instinctively take a step back.

Seeing no other option, Darrell turned on his heel and sprinted toward the lab, his footsteps pounding against the floor. Marlowe was their only hope now, and time was quickly running out.

Meanwhile, Serena reached Lucian’s door and threw it open without a second thought, not bothering to knock. The scene that greeted her—Lucian, freshly showered, and Mitchell perched provocatively on his bed—sent white-hot rage surging through her veins, every muscle tensing in fury.

Lucian’s initial confusion quickly morphed into shock as he registered the knife in her hand and the murderous intent gleaming in her eyes. Mitchell’s gasp was almost comical, her face draining of color as she instinctively shrank back, fear flashing across her features when she caught sight of the knife in Serena’s hand.

"You think I’m barking, right?" Serena advanced, the blade glinting. "Let me show you how I bite."

Mitchell scrambled backward with a shriek. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

"Yes, I am crazy," Serena hissed, her voice low and dangerous, a chill in the air. "And if you don’t get out of this house this minute, you’re going to lose your tongue today—courtesy of a crazy person."

Mitchell didn’t need further convincing. She bolted out of the room, rushing past Marlowe and Darrell, who had just arrived, breathless and wide-eyed in the doorway. The sight of them standing there, their faces masks of shock, barely registered to Serena as her focus remained locked on Mitchell’s retreating figure.

Lucian finally found his voice, his words sharp with disbelief. "What’s happening here, Serena? What is wrong with you?" His tone carried equal parts confusion and growing anger, each word laced with frustration.

Serena whirled on him, her free hand gesturing wildly toward the door. "It is you - something is wrong with you." The words tore from her throat. "You and that shameless thing out there who thinks she can just walk in here and insult me because of you."

"Leave my room, Serena." Lucian’s command came through gritted teeth, his own temper clearly fraying.

"I’m not leaving unless she leaves." Serena’s grip on the knife tightened. "Tell her to leave first."

"Serena, please." Marlowe’s calm voice cut through the tension. "Let’s settle this outside."

Serena’s glare didn’t waver. "If I come outside and she is still there, she will be very sorry."

Lucian’s gaze flicked to where Mitchell cowered in the hallway. "Come inside, Mitchell," he ordered.

Mitchell shook her head violently. "I’m sorry, Lucian. She has a weapon, and I’m not ready to die or be injured by a crazy woman."

A harsh, disbelieving laugh escaped Lucian. Then, with terrifying suddenness, he turned back to Serena, his eyes blazing with something wilder than anger. "You want to watch, right?" he growled. "Good. Then I’ll grant your wish."

Before she could react, he lunged. Serena barely had time to raise the knife before his hand closed like a vice around her wrist, twisting until the blade clattered uselessly to the carpet. Then, with terrifying strength, he dragged her toward the bed, his expression promising this confrontation was far from over.

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