Scarring His Lover Is Just the First Step

Caleb Larson used to be the most insignificant member among my subordinates.

That was, until he blocked a stab meant for me. That blade was 0.4 inches away from plunging right into his heart.

After that, I insisted on marrying Caleb regardless of my family's objections.

Since then, everyone thinks that I, the spoiled and wilful heiress to a gang, have gotten married out of love.

Two years later, however, a woman seeks me out.

"Are you Quinn Stewart?" she asks.

She waves the gold bracelet that has the initials "CS" engraved on it.

"Cal no longer loves you. He tells me that he feels nauseous whenever he sees your face. You'd better pack up and leave the Stewart family if you still have any sense left in you."

I blow the steam away from my coffee cup. Not even the woman's pained screams are capable of making me frown in the slightest.

But when Caleb personally rushes over and demands to know why I've chosen to beat Selene up to the point her face gets disfigured, my expression changes instantly.

"Everything is over between us, Caleb!"

"Stop deflecting, Quinn Stewart."

Caleb Larson stopped me from getting into the car to leave. His fleet of cars had surrounded mine. I looked on coldly as he questioned me for the sake of another woman.

"Selene Gardner has been rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment. The doctors said her face might be completely disfigured. You just can't let her be, can you?"

Caleb's handsome features were twisted into a frown.

Indeed, I'd ruined Selene's face by splashing hot coffee across her face and instructing my lackeys to slap her multiple times.

"So? Are you here to avenge her?"

I looked up at him, intrigued.

"Are you going to torture me to an inch of my life, or destroy my face as an apology to her?"

Caleb glared at me as though he wanted to kill me.

"Let me ask you again. Why did you do such a horrible thing to Selene?"

"She deserved it," I answered simply.

This response set Caleb off.

"Get out of there!"

As soon as he spoke, a lackey desperate to score points with Caleb rushed forward to yank at my car door.

The door was forced open within a few seconds.

Before he could touch me, my driver, Jason Green, reached out to dislocate his arm. The sound of his bones snapping out of place was followed by an anguished wail.

I massaged my temple, annoyed.

"It's too noisy."

The wailing stopped instantly.

Caleb pursed his lips. Then, he hissed through his teeth, "Quinn Stewart, are you going to beat up everyone around me today? Don't forget that Ashville's my turf. Have you asked for my permission before hurting my people?"

I couldn't help but chuckle.

It was true. The whole of Ashville knew that Caleb was part of the Stewart gang. My father, Mark Stewart, had handed him control over Ashville.

But Caleb was forgetting