Chapter 137: Derrick’s Decision

Chapter 137: Chapter 137: Derrick’s Decision

Several minutes later, right at the same spot he disappeared from, Derrick reappeared in a blur.

The external security cameras hummed softly before shutting down, their red power lights dying out one by one.

Derrick stepped through the shattered doorway and walked inside the villa.

Inside the dimly lit room, Beth was pacing back and forth across the floor like a trapped animal.

Her hands were clutched tightly against her chest, and her face was deathly pale.

Her chest rose and fell in fast, frantic gasps as her eyes darted toward every little shadow in the house.

The fear of not knowing if Derrick was alive had completely overwhelmed her.

Then, her eyes caught his silhouette.

"Derrick!" Beth cried out, her voice breaking with raw emotion.

She threw herself across the room and slammed straight into his arms.

Her fingers dug desperately into his jacket as if trying to convince herself he was real.

She was trembling from head to toe, her heart hammering wildly against his chest.

Derrick wrapped his arms around her, letting his warm energy seep into her body to calm her shaking frame.

"Who was that man?" Beth sobbed, pulling back slightly to look up into his eyes.

Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes wide with terror and relief.

"What happened out there? Is he... is it over?"

Derrick looked down at Beth, her tear-stained face looking up at him in absolute terror.

His mind flashed back to the dark forest just moments ago.

"So I was right," Derrick had told the man coldly, gazing at his bloodied face. "You are Beth’s father. But you are twenty years too late to worry about her."

He remembered what Beth had confessed to him during one of their quiet nights. Her father had walked out on her mother the exact moment he found out about the pregnancy. He had abandoned them without a second thought.

The hitman had slowly reached up and pulled off his cracked mask, revealing a harsh, battle-worn face. His eyes were burning with pure, desperate rage.

"I won’t ask again," the man had snarled, his voice trembling with fury. "Why did you take my wife and child?"

Derrick finally understood.

The man had it all wrong. He actually believed Derrick had abducted Ruth and Beth against their will, forcing them to serve him.

Derrick sneered down at the man, his gaze cold and full of disdain.

"They are no longer your wife and child," Derrick said quietly. "They stopped being that the day you left them."

The assassin’s jaw worked, his eyes flaring as he prepared to speak, but Derrick cut him off without letting him utter a single word.

"Before you try to give me any of your pathetic justifications, don’t bother," Derrick continued, his tone cutting through the night air like ice. "I don’t care about any of that."

He took a slow step closer to the bloodied hitman.

"When you weren’t there to take care of them, I gave Beth and her mother a way out," Derrick told him flatly. "Now, Beth is working hard every single day to create a great future for herself and take care of her mother. She doesn’t need a ghost from the past coming back to ruin it."

Hearing those words, the hitman froze. The rage in his eyes slowly dimmed, replaced by a sudden, heavy confusion as he began to realize he might have rushed his judgment. He looked up at Derrick, his rough voice faltering for the first time.

"Ruth... how is—"

Before he could even finish the sentence, Derrick’s aura exploded.

BOOM!

A wave of dense, terrifying pressure erupted from Derrick, crushing the surrounding grass and forcing the hitman back an inch against the dirt.

"Leave," Derrick growled, his voice vibrating with absolute authority. "Before I call the authorities."

Derrick leaned down slightly, his dark eyes locking onto the man’s face with a murderous intensity that made the veteran hitman’s blood run cold.

"Don’t ever come near me or my family again," Derrick warned him, each word heavy with lethal promise. "If you so much as raise another gun—no, if you even raise an eye in their direction... I will personally kill you."

The raw killing intent rolling off Derrick left zero room for doubt. He meant every single word.

A bitter taste lingered in his mouth as he stared at the father who had abandoned Beth, anger coiling like a tight spring inside his chest.

"I really hope you come at me right now," Derrick said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, deadly register. "Because I will not hold back anymore, and I’ll gladly show you exactly what I am feeling right now."

Byron, the assassin, felt a cold knot tighten in his stomach. Listening to the fierce protectiveness in Derrick’s voice, a sudden wave of heavy understanding crashed over him.

He’s not angry because I tried to kill him, Byron realized, his chest heavy with a bitter mix of guilt and shame. He’s furious because of what I did to his family and my own flesh and blood... because I abandoned Beth.

A bitter mix of guilt and shame weighed heavily on Byron’s chest.

"I... I apologize," Byron rasped out, his rough voice scraping painfully against his throat.

He slowly forced himself up from the dirt, his bloodied face solemn behind his cracked mask.

"I did not know what intentions you had for my daughter," Byron added, looking at Derrick with a mix of silent gratitude and lingering suspicion. "But I will keep an eye on you."

Whoosh!

A sudden gust of wind swept through the clearing. Byron’s body blurred into the dark foliage, and he vanished completely into the night.

The memory faded, bringing Derrick back to the brightly lit, ruined living room.

Beth was still clutching his jacket, her face buried against his chest as her whole body trembled violently.

"Derrick?" She called out again, seeing him lost in thought.

’Should I tell her about him?’ After feeling deeply conflicted about what to do with the information he had, Derrick reached a conclusion.

He took a deep breath and said, "You deserve to know..."