Divorce me I'm done serving you (Ayla) novel Chapter 684

Chapter 684 Edge at the Throat

Draven tightened his grip on the umbrella, pressing its sharp tip hard against the man’s shoulder.

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For a moment, the man assumed Draven simply wanted his attention-maybe to make a threat, maybe to ask what offense had been committed.

He expected words, not violence.

But Draven didn’t waste time with introductions or empty threats. Instead, he pressed harder, driving the umbrella’s point so deep it nearly punctured flesh. The pain exploded across the man’s shoulder, sharp and immediate.

It was only then that dread flooded him. Draven wanted blood, not conversation.

He tried to squirm away, panic fueling him, but the bodyguard’s hand on his neck was as heavy as iron. Escape was impossible.

Already cowed by Draven’s icy, unyielding presence, the hint of true danger shattered any remaining bravado. His voice trembled as he stammered, “S-Sir, I-I don’t think I did anything to offend you, right?”

A sickening sound echoed as the umbrella pierced skin.

The man cried out, sweat pouring down his face.

The tip had stabbed his shoulder.

Draven’s gaze was calm, his voice colder than ice. “Think carefully.”

Herman had already dug up the man’s background. He was worth several million-an impressive sum for most, though nothing to people like Herman. He was new money, a man who’d stumbled into fortune by luck rather than legacy. Flush with success, he’d become arrogant, playing the boss among his friends and chasing women to show off. He craved attention and respect, but his money was new, and his sense of power shallow.

Money never stayed with people like him. Men like these were scum to those like Herman.

Lately, the nouveau riche man’s arrogance had swelled, fueled by the endless praise and flattery of his friends. But the instant Draven drove the umbrella into his shoulder, all that bravado evaporated. Draven’s hand was still bound in gauze, and as he pressed down, fresh blood seeped through the fabric-yet his face was cold and impassive, betraying no hint of pain.

It was chilling to witness. Draven looked entirely at ease, as if inflicting pain were something he’d done a thousand times before, as if violence was simply part of his nature.

Terror overtook the man in an instant. The pain in his shoulder was sharp and overwhelming.

“I-I-I don’t know! I didn’t do anything! Please, let me go! Help! I’m sorry, I swear I’m sorry!”

Draven didn’t relent. He only knit his brow, a flicker of irritation crossing his face, as if the man’s desperate pleas were nothing but an unwelcome noise.

Now, wounded, terrified, he could only beg and plead, but Draven was unmoved by his desperate sobs. The man’s tears and snot mixed as he shook, crying out for mercy, unable to understand what he’d done to deserve this.

Draven, disgusted by the spectacle, finally gave Herman his orders. “Check his taxes. Have him sent away.”

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3:35 pm

Chapter 684 Edge at the Throat

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With that, Draven tossed aside the umbrella and climbed into the car, never looking back. A few words and a single gesture were all it took to strike fear into the man’s soul.

The nouveau riche was left trembling, still unable to fathom how, despite his wealth, he could never get the beautiful women he wanted. Maybe it was his looks, he thought, but with money, shouldn’t that not matter? He wasn’t handsome, but not hideous either-yet’next to Draven, even he felt like a toad beside a prince.

He’d always imagined that if he just had a bit more power, no woman would ever be out of reach. But tonight, he’d finally seen what true power looked like.

What did it mean that a single sentence-“Check his taxes”-could destroy him? Was it really so easy to bring a man down? Did Draven’s people truly have the ability to make his life unravel with just a word?

Stunned, he watched Draven’s tall figure disappear, overwhelmed by the difference between them. Draven’s refined air was something he could never hope to touch. He was someone who came from real elitehood.

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