Dylan strode toward them like a storm that had finally found its target.
Before Clover could even react, his fist slammed into Miguel's face.
The impact sent Miguel crashing to the ground, blood bursting from his split lip.
A sharp gasp rippled through the marketplace.
Clover's eyes widened in shock.
"Lord Miguel!"
She rushed to his side and helped him up, her hands trembling.
Around them, the villagers scattered in fear, abandoning their stalls and lowering their heads as panic spread through the once lively street.
Miguel slowly straightened, using Clover for support.
A smirk curved across his bloodied lips.
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, he step forward then lifted his gaze to Dylan.
"I have never seen you this enraged, Lord Dylan," Miguel said lazily, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I thought you were a man with no emotions."
His smirk deepened.
"Or are you truly in love with her?" Miguel lean forward and whispered.
The air turned cold.
Clover could feel it.
Even the wind seemed to freeze.
Miguel leaned closer, lowering his voice so only Dylan could hear.
"Seeing you like this…" he murmured, "makes me wonder what's so special about her."
His eyes flickered to Clover.
"I'm beginning to want her too."
The second punch came harder.
Miguel's head snapped to the side.
"Are you insane?!" Clover shouted, stepping between them before Dylan could strike again. "Don't you know the law?"
Dylan's gaze lowered to her.
For a second, he looked almost amused.
"Law?" he repeated.
Then a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.
"I am the law."
A chill ran down Clover's spine.
Dylan's eyes shifted past her.
"You know what to do with this bastard, Elias."
Elias stepped forward from the shadows and bowed.
"Yes, my lord."
Clover turned sharply. "What are you planning to do?"
Dylan ignored her completely.
Instead, he grabbed her.
Before she could scream, he lifted her effortlessly and slung her over his shoulder.
"Dylan! Put me down!"
She kicked and struggled, hitting his back with both fists, but it was like trying to fight a wall.
He didn't even flinch.
He carried her straight to the carriage and tossed her inside.
Clover barely caught herself before crashing against the seat.
Dylan entered after her, shutting the door with a force that made the entire carriage tremble.
The ride back to the mansion was suffocating.
He said nothing.
He only stared.
And somehow, his silence was more terrifying than shouting.
By the time they arrived, Clover's heart was pounding so hard it hurt.
Dylan dragged her out again as if she weighed nothing and threw her over his shoulder once more.
He marched through the mansion like a predator returning with prey.
The maids in the hallway froze the moment they saw him.
Their faces turned pale.
Some bowed so fast they nearly stumbled.
Others looked away completely, as if they already knew what kind of storm had entered the house.
Dylan said nothing.
That silence again.
That deadly silence.
He walked straight into the master's chambers, then past the room and into the private bath.
Before Clover could brace herself—
He threw her into the bathtub.
Water exploded around her.
Clover came up gasping, soaked from head to toe, her wet hair clinging to her face.
She stared at him in disbelief.
"What is wrong with you?!" she snapped, shoving the wet strands from her face. "What are you doing?!"
She barely finished speaking before Dylan was suddenly in front of her.
His hand wrapped around her throat.
Not tight enough to crush.
But tight enough to remind her exactly who he was.
Clover grabbed his wrist, her breath catching.
"Dyl—"
He kissed her.
Her eyes widened.
It wasn't gentle.
It wasn't sweet.
It was rough.
Possessive.
A warning wrapped in heat and fury.
A punishment.
His mouth crushed against hers like he wanted to erase the memory of another man standing too close.
Clover struggled, her breath breaking beneath the force of it.
Her fingers pressed against his chest, but he didn't move.
For one unbearable second, the entire world narrowed to his hand at her throat and the violent heat of his mouth on hers.
Then suddenly—
He pulled away.
His crimson-gold eyes burned into hers, wild and unreadable.
Whatever had flashed there—rage, hunger, something darker—began to slowly fade.
"You have ten minutes," he said coldly.
Then he turned and walked out.
Clover sat frozen in the water.
Her lips trembled.
Tears stung her eyes before she could stop them.
"You monster…" she whispered.
Ten minutes later, Clover stepped out of the bathroom.
She had changed into a dry nightgown, but her hair was still damp, and her heart had not settled.
Dylan sat on the couch near the bed, one leg crossed over the other, as if he had all the time in the world.
His gaze lifted the moment she entered.
It never left her.
Clover looked away first and started walking toward the bed.
"Who said you could sleep?"
His voice stopped her in place.
She turned.
Dylan rose slowly from the couch.
"Or are you planning to skip your punishment?"
Clover's jaw tightened.
"Why should I be punished?" she demanded. "I only went out with a friend. How does that deserve punishment?"
Her chest rose and fell with anger.
"Just because I'm weak doesn't make you my master."
Dylan's gaze sharpened.
"A friend," he repeated, the words heavy with contempt.
"Yes," Clover said firmly, forcing herself not to step back. "A friend."
Dylan tilted his head slightly.
"I never gave you permission to keep friends."
Clover stared at him.
Then she laughed once in disbelief.
"Do I need your permission now?"
His silence was answer enough.
Her eyes flashed.
"Whatever punishment you have planned, I'm not taking it."
For a moment, Dylan simply looked at her.
Then he stood fully and began walking toward her.
One step.
Then another.
Clover's body moved on instinct.
She retreated.
One step back.
Then another.
Until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed.
Dylan stopped in front of her.
Towering.
Terrifying.
"Tell me one reason," he said softly, "why I shouldn't punish you tonight."
Clover swallowed hard, but forced her chin up.
"I studied" she said.
"Since you want fairness so badly," he continued, "then let's make this simple."
His eyes narrowed.
"You said you studied."
Clover blinked.
"Yes."
"What proof do you have?"
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Dylan smirked.
"Elias."
As if summoned by the dark itself, Elias appeared instantly.
Clover flinched.
"Tell her," Dylan said without looking away from her, "what happens if she refuses to accept her punishment."
Elias bowed.
"Miss… refusing is indeed an option," he said calmly. "However, if you refuse, others will serve the punishment in your place."
Clover frowned. "What?"
"Those responsible for letting you leave the mansion."
Her face changed.
"The maids?" she asked sharply.
Elias lowered his head.
"Yes."
"That makes no sense!" Clover snapped. "Why should they suffer for something they didn't do?"
"Because," Dylan said coldly, "they allowed you out."
Clover whipped around to face him.
"You're sick."
Dylan didn't react.
"My master is already being merciful," Elias added carefully.
Clover looked between the two of them in disbelief.
Then Dylan spoke again.
"You may go."
Elias bowed.
He turned—
Then Dylan's voice stopped him.
"With every refusal she gives…"
His lips curved.
"Cut off a finger."
Clover froze.
Elias hesitated for only a second, then bowed deeper.
"Yes, my lord."
He disappeared.
For one heartbeat, the room went silent.
Then Dylan snapped his fingers.
A shimmering display appeared in the air before them like a mirror made of magic.
Clover gasped.
The living hall.
She could see it clearly.
The maids were lined up in a row, trembling, pale, and terrified—like lambs waiting for slaughter.
Some were already crying.
One of them looked barely able to stand.
Clover's breath caught.
Her stomach twisted.
She turned slowly toward Dylan.
"You're truly ruthless."
He met her gaze without blinking.
"Your time starts now."
Clover clenched her fists so tightly her nails bit into her palms.
"What do you want from me?" she demanded. "Should I weed the garden? Sleep outside? Scrub the floors? Say it!"
Her voice cracked with fury.
"Just say it!"
Dylan's expression barely changed.
"Don't get so worked up," he said lazily. "It's not as difficult as you think."
His eyes flicked toward the bed.
Clover followed his gaze.
There, neatly laid out across the sheets, was a dress.
Her face changed instantly.
"Put it on."
Clover stared at him in disbelief.
Then she snatched the dress off the bed and stormed into the bathroom.
A moment later, she came back out, furious, still clutching the fabric in both hands.
"Why should I wear this?!" she demanded. "Are you insane?"
The scream that echoed from downstairs cut through the room like a blade.
Clover went still.
Her head snapped toward the floating display.
One of the maids had dropped to her knees, sobbing in terror.
Clover's blood ran cold.
The dress slipped slightly in her trembling hands.
And Dylan…
Dylan only watched her.