Chapter 198
Barrett and Declan exchanged a stunned glance, utterly speechless.
It was two in the morning p>
The Sterling Manor was deathly silent in the dead of night.
But the sleeping household was violently startled awake by a sudden, aggressive pounding on the doors.
Security alarms blared like thunder. Maids and staff scrambled out of bed in pure panic, hurriedly throwing on uniforms as they rushed to the halls.
The head butler, rubbing sleep from his eyes, hurried to the main living room, only to find Jarred sitting on the sofa, his expression terrifyingly cold.
A squad of towering bodyguards, led by Declan, was marching upstairs, aggressively pounding on bedroom doors.
“What is all this screaming about?! The matriarch just went to sleep. She cannot handle this kind of shock p>
Millie was a veteran servant at the Manor and the matriarch’s personal maid. She always acted as if she were above everyone else.
Seeing Declan’s imposing squad, she barked, “Banging on doors at this hour? Are you trying to give someone a heart attack p>
Declan didn’t even blink. “You’re the one who needs to keep her voice down, unless you want to wake the West Wing p>
That single sentence instantly silenced Millie. The West Wing was where Grandpa Sterling slept.
He had just endured a grueling international flight, his health still fragile, and had gone straight to bed.
Declan threw out a final warning before turning away. “The Boss is waiting in the living room. Anyone who isn’t down there in exactly sixty seconds will face the consequences p>
Among the three grandsons of the Sterling family, Maloney had taken over the grandfather’s position, so everyone addressed him respectfully as the young CEO.
Marcus had followed their father into the military and was the youngest Major General in the Capital, always addressed by his military rank.
Only the third son, Jarred, was universally referred to as ‘Boss’ or ‘Mr. Sterling’ by the staff.
“Mr. Sterling… is back?” The realization instantly extinguished any remaining arrogance Millie had.
The entire Manor knew that Jarred and his wife were getting a divorce.
Ever since the mess started, Jarred practically never set foot in the Manor.
So for him to return at this hour… what did it mean?
Millie didn’t dare speculate. She rushed inside to wake the matriarch.
When his grandmother finally emerged, supported by two maids, her footsteps were weak and erratic.
Her health was already failing, and being startled awake left her face ashen, her breathing laced with a terrified tremor.
Helena followed closely in her wheelchair, still wearing her silk nightgown, her eyes darting around in raw panic.
A few minutes later, Celeste was also wheeled down by a servant.
Aside from the grandfather, Marcus and his father stationed at the military base, and Maloney who was away on business, every remaining family member was present.
Jarred sat in the center of the sprawling sofa. The cuffs of his black dress shirt were casually rolled up, revealing his muscular forearms.
As the three women entered the living room, their eyes locked onto him instantly.
The suffocating, icy aura radiating from him seemed to plunge the entire room into a freezer.
His posture reeked of such lethal, unbridled fury that the three women’s hearts plummeted, overwhelmed by an intense wave of dread.
Helena wheeled herself forward slightly, tentatively breaking the silence. “Jarred, what is so urgent that you had to come back in the middle of the night?
You know perfectly well we just got off a long flight. We’re all exhausted. Whatever it is, can’t it wait until morning to p>
“Bring them in p>
Before she could finish, Jarred cut her off with a voice like cracked ice. The sheer viciousness in his tone made the three women jolt in terror, the color draining entirely from their faces.
A second later, the heavy oak doors to the side parlor were shoved open.
Bodyguards marched in, violently dragging a group of panicked men and women in tailored suits into the living room.
It was the elite legal team exclusively employed by his grandmother and Helena.
The bodyguards forced them into a straight line, pressing down on their shoulders and making them stand dead center in the room, facing the matriarch and Helena.
The air in the living room instantly solidified.
The elderly woman’s wrinkled face went rigid. Staring at Jarred, she demanded darkly, “What is the meaning of this p>
Jarred slowly lifted his gaze. Under the dim amber lighting, his pitch-black eyes looked like bottomless, frozen abysses.