The Day I Walked Away My Empire Began novel Chapter 223

On the other side of the hallway, Steven stormed back into the waiting room like a thundercloud ready to burst. His mood was so dark, people instinctively kept their distance. Inside, he was boiling with a mix of jealousy and anger.

Fine.

Just great.

She actually had the nerve to mess with him, to treat him like some clueless idiot. Well, she was about to learn what happened when you played games with Steven.

Shannon spotted him first and rushed over, relief and worry written all over her face. “Steven, you’re back! Aunt Bria should be out any minute…”

As she got closer, her eyes went wide. There was blood on his hand, smeared across his face and neck.

Panic hit her hard. “Oh my god, what happened? Why are you bleeding like this?”

Steven’s expression was stone-cold. “It’s nothing. Don’t make a scene.”

Shannon’s eyes filled up in an instant. “But you’re hurt! Your hand and your face... Doesn’t it hurt? Shouldn’t we find a doctor or something?” Her voice was trembling, tears already slipping down her cheeks.

Steven’s patience was razor-thin. He snapped, “Quiet. Don’t bother me.”

“I just… I just hate seeing you like this,” Shannon said, sobbing. “Who did this to you?”

Her crying only made his headache worse. He had zero energy to comfort her. His voice was sharp as ice. “Did you not hear what I said?”

Shannon flinched, choking back her tears, her big wet eyes fixed on him.

Steven didn’t even look back. He headed straight for the bathroom.

Inside, he turned on the tap and rinsed the blood from his face and hands, letting the icy water run until the sting numbed his skin. He leaned over and shoved his head under the cold stream for a couple of minutes, letting it jolt him awake.

He was brutal with other people, but sometimes he was even harsher on himself. He could be downright self-destructive.

His hand was still bleeding, but he just let the water wash over it, letting himself feel the pain.

Ten minutes later, he shook the water from his hair and grabbed a thick wad of paper towels, roughly drying off his face and head.

He caught his own reflection in the mirror—hair dripping, eyes stormy, face set like stone. He looked like hell.

Without thinking, he slammed his fist into the glass.

The mirror cracked, splintering into a spiderweb. Fresh blood seeped from his knuckles.

“Steven, when did you get so pathetic? So childish?” he muttered at his own reflection.

He thought about the last few days, how he’d been waiting for her texts like some lovesick idiot. Every time she messaged, he’d smile like a fool.

Just thinking about it made him furious.

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