Chapter 118 CHAPTER 118
Bloodline War
“Tell the pilot to prep the jet. We leave in ten.”
Ares’s voice was sharp, controlled but the fury behind it cracked through every word like lightning. He stood in the middle of the hangar, still in the same black shirt from the hospital, his sleeves rolled up, his hair disheveled, eyes burning with sleepless rage.
Tessa and Chloe stood a few feet away, watching him in silence.
“Ares, think about this first,” Chloe said finally. “You just got your mother admitted an hour ago. She needs you here.”
He turned, his stare cutting through her. “She needs her life back. And the man who destroyed it is waiting for me in another country.”
Tessa stepped forward carefully. “What if he doesn’t listen? He’s your father. He knows exactly how to push you.”
Ares gave a humorless laugh. “Then I’ll push back harder.”
The pilot approached, helmet tucked under his arm. “Sir, the jet is ready. Clearance has been approved.”
Ares nodded once and walked toward the stairs. He paused halfway, glancing over his shoulder at both women. “Stay with her. Don’t let anyone in that room except the doctors.”
Tessa’s voice wavered. “Ares…”
“Tessa, you’re in charge.” He said, walking out.
Within minutes, the engines roared to life, slicing through the night air. The hangar doors opened, and the jet rolled forward into the dark.
The flight to was short, silent, and thick with unspoken thoughts.
Ares sat near the window, staring into the endless night sky. His reflection looked foreign, the exhaustion, the tension etched deep into his face.
Every second replayed his mother’s collapse, the sound of her faint voice, the image of her hand slipping from his.
He clenched his jaw and muttered under his breath, “You went too far.”
When the jet touched down at a private runway outside Manhattan, the tarmac was still wet from rain. A black Rolls Royce waited at the end of the strip, the driver standing stiff beside it.
Ares stepped down without hesitation.
“Mr. Ares,” the driver greeted. “Your father’s expecting you.”
“I bet he is,” Ares muttered, sliding into the back seat.
The city loomed ahead, a mosaic of steel and silence. The car wound through a narrow private road until the Langford estate appeared tall iron gates, guarded and glowing beneath floodlights.
When Ares stepped out, the guards at the gate hesitated but opened immediately.
Ares stopped several feet away, his voice cold. “You knew I was coming.”
Marcus looked up slowly, a faint smirk curving his lips. “Of course. You never could resist playing the hero.”
“I’m not here to play,” Ares snapped. “You took everything from us. Our businesses, accounts, properties, money.”
Marcus raised a brow. “Correction, I took back what was mine.”
Ares’s fists clenched. “You built nothing without us especially mom. She gave her life to those projects.”
“She gave me chaos,” Marcus replied evenly. “All both of you gave me is scandal, bad press, and emotional drama. I built those empires long before she came along waving her little dreams around.”
Ares took a step closer. “You’ve gone too far.”
Marcus’s smile faded, his voice turning sharp. “Look at you, small boy.”
Ares’s chest rose and fell, fury pulsing beneath his skin. “You want to destroy her because she stopped letting you control her.”
Marcus swirled the brandy in his glass. “Control is what keeps this family from collapsing. You and your mother forgot that. I gave her a simple instructions.”
“She’s in the hospital because of you,” Ares said quietly. “She almost died.”
He turned away, walking toward the window overlooking the city.
“She’ll survive. She always does.”
Ares’s jaw tightened. “What kind of man says that about his wife?”
Marcus turned back, his tone sharp and deliberate. “Ex-wife.”
The word hit Ares like a slap.
“What?”
Marcus set down his glass. “The divorce papers have already been filed. By the end of the week, she’ll be free or whatever word she prefers for ruin.”
“You can’t do that,” Ares said through clenched teeth.
“I already have.”
Ares stepped forward, his voice rising. “You’ve taken her money, her company, her peace now you want to take her dignity too?”
Marcus’s gaze hardened. “She threw that away when she walked out on me days ago. I just didn’t collect the debt until now.”
The room went silent.
Then Ares spoke, low and dangerous. “You’re a monster.”
Marcus’s lips curved again, that calm, infuriating smirk. “And you’re a disappointment.”
They stood there, father and son, two men cut from the same fire but burning in opposite directions.
Ares took another step forward. “You don’t scare me.”
Marcus’s smirk vanished. “Then maybe you should.”
He turned toward the butler at the door. “Mr. Kent, see that his jet is impounded. No one leaves this property without my clearance.”
Ares froze. “You’re seizing my jet?”
Marcus poured himself another drink. “You flew here on my dime, in my plane, to insult me in my own house. Consider this your lesson in humility.”
“You can’t—”
“I can do whatever I want,” Marcus interrupted coldly. “Now get out of my house before I make you regret walking in.”
Ares’s fists tightened until his knuckles went white.
He wanted to lunge, to shout, to destroy something but instead, he straightened.
“Fine,” he said quietly. “But you should remember something, Marcus.”
Marcus didn’t turn. “And what’s that?”
Ares’s eyes narrowed. “Empires don’t burn from outside. They rot from within. And you will rot for years.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Marcus’s jaw tensed, but he said nothing.
Ares turned and walked out, slow, deliberate steps echoing through the marble hall until the front doors slammed shut behind him.
Outside, the guards watched nervously as he strode toward the car.
One of them stammered, “Sir, the private jet—”
“I know,” Ares cut him off. “Keep it. He’ll need something to crash in when his empire starts falling.”
He climbed into the car and slammed the door.
As the driver pulled away from the mansion, Ares looked out the window, the mansion shrinking behind him, the night swallowing it whole.
He pulled out his phone, opening a message thread with Tessa.
Ares: He’s seizing everything. Even the jet. He’s divorcing her.
He stared at the blinking cursor for a long moment before typing one more line.
Ares: I’m coming back. And when I do, I’m ending this.
He hit send.
The car sped off toward the city, cutting through the dark like a promise of war.