The Illegitimate Flame: Bride of Ashes-Chapter 51- You touch her

But when Derrick heard Charles’s unapologetic tone—so calm, so resolute—his face turned a livid shade of green.

He could concede to Charles on many things.

But not when it came to Philip.

Because deep down, no matter how much he denied it, Derrick was still biased. freewёbnoνel.com

The scales in his heart had long since tipped—just not toward Charles.

"I want to see if the so-called head of this family can’t even deal with your woman," Derrick said coldly, eyes flashing with dangerous authority.

His gaze flicked to Janet.

She was barely standing, her body swaying like a fragile reed in a storm.

The sprint down the hall had taken too much out of her—she felt the sharp burn of something hot flooding through her lower abdomen, searing against her skin.

She didn’t need a doctor to know something was wrong.

She just wanted to close her eyes and block out the nightmare.

"Dad—don’t push me," Charles warned, voice low and tight. "Don’t touch her. I’ll do whatever you want. Just... don’t hurt Janet."

And for Charles to say those words, to willingly yield—that was the depth of what she meant to him.

She was the one person worth defying the world for.

Derrick narrowed his eyes.

"Even if you’re my son, you do not get to betray Philip."

That wasn’t a father speaking.

It was a cold-blooded ruler, passing judgment.

Charles shifted, instinctively turning to shield Janet behind him.

He knew what was coming.

If Derrick truly lost control, there was no telling what might happen. And right now, Charles couldn’t guarantee her safety.

For twenty-eight years, Charles had walked alone.

From the moment he could remember, Derrick had treated him with nothing but harsh discipline.

He never received a father’s warmth, never heard words of pride or kindness.

After Philip’s accident, whatever fragile thread remained between them had finally snapped.

What was left behind was nothing but duty—and distance.

"Get Lord Charles out of my way!" Derrick barked.

Like shadows, two bodyguards appeared from behind and lunged toward Charles, blocking his escape.

The moment they moved, something dark and dormant inside Charles finally snapped.

A long-buried side of him—dangerous, lethal—erupted like a dormant volcano coming to life.

His expression turned cold.

In a blur of motion, he sidestepped the attack with ease, dodging as if he’d been born for it.

Even with Janet in his arms, his movements were precise and fluid.

Derrick stared in stunned silence. He’d never seen this side of Charles before.

He didn’t know—couldn’t have known—that Charles had trained in the shadows for years.

He wasn’t just a businessman. He was something far deadlier.

And he would kill to protect her.

But Derrick still refused to back down. He didn’t believe Charles would truly go against the family for a woman.

Even if it meant betraying Philip.

At Derrick’s signal, Dr. Fred moved again—syringe in hand, eyes locked on Janet’s back.

He saw a fleeting opening.

He lunged.

But Charles was faster.

With a deadly precision, Charles seized Fred’s wrist mid-air.

His fingers clamped down, and his eyes—cold as death—locked on the trembling doctor.

"You touch her again," Charles said softly, dangerously, "and I’ll break every bone in your body."

Fred screamed as Charles twisted his arm savagely.

It wasn’t just pain. It was fear—raw, primal fear radiating from a man who had just realized:

Charles Elwin wasn’t the heir to a family empire.

He was a monster in a suit.

And he was done playing nice.

He finally understood—compared to Derrick, this man before him was far more dangerous.

"Charles, watch out!" Janet’s sudden shout pierced the chaos.

She saw the two men who had fallen just moments ago stubbornly rising again, fists clenched, aiming straight at Charles to distract him.

Instinctively, Janet threw her body forward to shield him.

But Charles pushed her away.

In that moment, he used too much force and didn’t pull back in time. Janet stumbled from the shove, losing balance unexpectedly and began to fall sideways.

Only then did Charles see where she was falling—it was right at the edge of the staircase.

"Janet—!" Charles screamed hysterically, reaching out desperately to catch her drifting, fragile form.

But it was too late.

A sharp, clear groan echoed from downstairs, and the chaotic scene suddenly fell eerily still.

Janet’s body rolled down the stairs in a curling wave.

Her mind was too overwhelmed to think; she could only instinctively protect her belly.

When she finally hit the bottom, the sharp pain in her abdomen exploded into something unbearable—like a knife twisting deep inside her.

The warm blood pooling inside her suddenly burst forth uncontrollably.

Her consciousness blurred.

She tried to grab hold of something—anything—but found only empty air.

The bright red stain spreading from her body stabbed painfully at Charles’s eyes.

Derrick, watching the thick pool of blood with his hands behind his back, gave a faint, cruel smile...

"Janet, Janet..." Charles rushed down the stairs, kneeling to catch the limp, unconscious woman in his arms.

The terror he felt was the same as that day when he had saved Janet from drowning.

But now, seeing the growing pool of blood beneath her, his fear had morphed into something deeper—utter, hopeless despair.

Had he been too late after all?

Charles carried Janet horizontally in his arms, his whole body like a wild stallion running free, his heart overwhelmed with boundless coldness and confusion.

Just moments ago, he had still been dreaming of the warmth of home. But now, seeing his own flesh and blood reduced to a pool of blood, he—who was no stranger to scenes of rivers of blood—loathed himself deeply.

In just a few short days, from learning of the little one’s existence to now losing them, Charles had experienced despair that plummeted from heaven to hell.

The vivid red stained his white shirt; his hands were soaked in the bloody mess. He couldn’t tell if the blood was Janet’s or the child’s...

The sharp sound of hurried footsteps and the pungent smell of disinfectant filled the air.

When Giles arrived at the hospital, Charles’s proud figure was leaning against the wall outside the operating room, his gaze fixed intently at the door at a forty-five-degree angle.

Giles knew everything about Charles and Janet’s situation. Having followed Charles for so long, he was familiar with every bit of his temper and personality. Now, seeing him so drained, Giles felt bitter inside.

Waiting was an agonizing ordeal.

When the operating room doors finally opened, Charles took a step back. Though he had already guessed the outcome, when the doctor announced the news, his heart clenched in unbearable pain.

"The lady is fine... but the child is lost."

Charles was a man who usually held others’ lives in his hands. One business decision from him could bankrupt someone or drive them to despair. Yet now, he could only helplessly watch as his own child quietly slipped away before him.

For someone as cold as Charles, this was cruel beyond words.

"Boss!" Giles’s voice broke through the silence.

Charles’s calm was unsettling. The hands that usually signed documents were crusted with dried blood—but he hadn’t washed away the stain of bloodshed.

"Got a cigarette?" Charles’s lips twitched slightly. When he looked up at Giles, the cold sharpness in his eyes made even Giles feel a bit intimidated.

Without hesitation, Giles quickly pulled a cigarette from his suit pocket and handed it to Charles. Charles held it between his index and middle fingers and brought it to his lips. Giles then instinctively took out a lighter from his pocket, flicked it on, and lit the cigarette for Charles.