The Woman From Hell

"Afleeting Moment of Joy and Sorrow"

In the early summer, Harmony Hall.

The applause thundered as the song Crimson Dust concluded, the final note hanging in the air.

On stage, the woman in a sheer red dress with a touch of makeup, her voice like a murmuring stream, as heavenly as it was enchanting, had unknowingly stirred the fancies of many a man. Yet, there was one who remained utterly unmoved, not even sparing her a glance.

But it was for this very person that Chloe Summers longed to sing the most.

The theater owner approached with a bowed body and a forced smile, asking, "Young Master Shaw, are you satisfied with todays performance?"

The sweat dripping from his forehead was a testament to his anxiety. It was no wonder; Ethan Shaw was the ruler of Rivertown, and offending him could lead to more than just a lost head.

"How many songs has she sung?" Ethan lifted his eyes slightly, yet not towards the graceful performer on stage.

"Reporting to Young Master, including the last one, its exactly ten songs."

Ethan nodded as if he knew, his indifferent expression taking on a slightly eerie cast.

"Ten songs, and yet her voice hasnt gone hoarse?"

The implication was not lost on the owner, who immediately called out to the stage, "What are you waiting for? Keep singing!"

From the moment Chloe saw him seated in the audience, she had anticipated this.

She should have known there would be a day like this when she fled the Shaw household two years ago.

Ethans temperament was unknown to others, but Chloe knew it all too well; he was using this public humiliation as a declaration that old debts were now being settled.

Several more exquisite tunes echoed around, the reverberations growing more and more hoarse.

It wasnt until she could no longer sing a complete melody that he finally rose with a satisfied look.

Ethan straightened his military attire and strode onto the stage, his cold gaze fixed on Chloe. "Arent you fond of performing? Cant take it anymore? Or are you pretending to have lost your voice, unwilling to sing for me? Hmm?"

"If Young Master Shaw doesnt mind my poor singing, Ill sing until youre tired of listening. How about that?" Chloes voice was hoarse, her speech weak and faltering, indistinct, yet easily mistaken for impatience.

Ethans half-narrowed eyes betrayed a dangerous chill.

"Young Master Shaw?!"

When had she ever called him like that?

So distant, so cold, so heartless?!

This address ignited a fire in Ethans chest, "Tomorrow, I will come again. If you still cant sing, the people of this troupe will pay the price for you!"

He was a man of his word, and Chloe knew it, but a voice gone hoarse couldnt be healed just like that. Not tomorrow, not even in three or four days could it possibly return to an unaffected state; he was clearly making things difficult.

After Ethan left, the owner exploded, "Youve offended Young Master Shaw, dont drag us into it! Get out! Out! My small troupe cant accommodate you!"

Chloe didnt say a word, not even an explanation.

Her unpacked luggage was thrown out untouched, and she herself was shown no courtesy.

She stood alone at the side of the road in the dusk, looking at this vast place that couldnt accommodate a single person, overwhelmed by helplessness and desolation.

Suddenly, a car screeched to a halt less than an inch from her, blocking her way in a menacing display.

Through the car window, Ethans sharply defined face was flawlessly outlined by the warm sunlight, yet that intentional or unintentional cold smile on the corner of his lips dropped the temperature around them by several degrees.

"Trying to run away again?" His eyes shifted, "If you want to repeat your mistakes, I wont stop you. But if I dont hear you sing tomorrow, they will die, and they will die much more horribly."

Chloe clutched her box, her knuckles turning white: "Young Master Shaw, what will it take for you to spare them?"

"Come here and kneel down."