My Invincible Husband Has Returned

Chapter 73

Qemal kept taunting, “You broke my arm, and all I’m asking is for you to lose one of yours! Better do it before I change my mind, and fast! Or else, it’ll be more than an arm you’ll be losing!”

Liam snapped his head up, his face stormy as he locked eyes with Qemal. The murderous intent was plain to see, and it felt like the air itself grew heavier with his fury.

“Don’t try to take advantage of me!” Liam’s voice was icy as he glared, his eyes practically shooting daggers.

That single look sent Qemal stumbling back in fear! It was downright chilling.

Locking eyes with Liam was like staring down the grim reaper

himself, and Qemal thought he was a goner. Could Liam really be a nobody? How could someone dismissed as a nobody have such a fearsome look and such an intense presence? All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

Yafe realized that Liam was no ordinary man. It would be foolish to make a move without knowing what Liam was capable of. Liam, who had been missing for seven years, had come back transformed, his former timidity replaced by a menacing presence.

As Qemal kept pushing buttons, Yafe cut in urgently, “Qemal, stop wasting time. You need to get to the hospital. Your hand can’t wait!”

After that, Yafe turned his attention to Liam. “Fine, you guys can just hang out over here in this corner. By the time this party’s over, I better not see you around. Keep out of trouble, got it?”

With that, Yafe, Sherah, and their group strode into the banquet’s grand hall, completely ignoring Celena.

Liam gently lifted Celena, who was sobbing uncontrollably, and

entered the grand hall. Celena leaned on Liam, glancing back at Yafe’s fading figure with a flicker of sorrow in her eyes. Her face was a portrait of dejection.

The banquet hall was decorated like an ancient palace, filled to the brim with guests. Reginald was the center of attention at the head table, with a steady stream of well-wishers bringing gifts and good

cheer.

“Grandpa, I brought you this tea set!”

Cheryl, wearing a flowing water-blue gown with her hair elegantly swept up, seemed unfazed by her recent split from the Hughes family. She approached with a finely decorated box in hand, offering it with reverence to Reginald.

“Excellent, excellent!” Reginald beamed, accepting the box from

Cheryl. As he lifted the lid, the crowd caught sight of a beautiful sky- blue tea set. Its glaze was webbed with delicate cracks. A murmur of awe rippled through the guests.

“Wow, this tea set is something else!”

“Absolutely, it’s a masterpiece from a renowned artist, Mr. Redfern. I heard it fetched one million dollars at the last auction!”

The buzz of conversation grew, but so did Reginald’s grin. He laughed heartily and said, “Cheryl, you’ve outdone yourself. No wonder you’re my favorite granddaughter.”

Reginald, resplendent in his traditional black and red garb, sat proudly at the head of the table, cradling the tea set Cheryl had gifted him. He had a look of pure delight on his face.

Just behind Cheryl, a dashing young man in a burgundy suit in his early twenties stepped forward. He held an ornate box and, with a

respectful bow and a warm smile, said, “Reginald, may your fortune be as vast as the Eastern Sea and your life as long as the Southern Mountains. I am Wasyl Abbott, the heir to the Abbott Group.”