Chapter 4: The First Love Conspiracy

Words : 1990 Updated : Nov 27th, 2025

As the convoy dwindled to specks in the distance, the two women in the car let out long sighs of relief. Blake Cutmore waved him over. "Miller, get in." Megan Scurr added, her voice brisk, "You drove Kane Lyall off. That really helped me out. I hate owing people. I'll take you home." Miller Cutmore didn't argue. He turned and climbed into the car. Blake studied the nephew she had watched grow up, the boy she had spoiled most, and felt suddenly as if he were a stranger. "Aunt Blake, what's wrong?" Miller gave a calm smile. Blake shook her head. "Five years. I knew you'd change, but I never imagined this much. Miller, just now… what on earth was all that?" Miller smiled calmly. "I apprenticed myself to a master in there. He taught me a great deal. The old man you saw earlier is an older disciple of my master. A month ago my master called him and asked him to pick me up today." "You apprenticed yourself in prison?" Megan's lip curled. "Is there even one decent person in there? What could anyone teach you?" Miller's voice dropped, steady and hard. "How to stay alive in that place. And whether someone's good or bad depends on your perspective. Law isn't God, and prison isn't hell. People who insist there are no good men inside are either legal absolutists who worship the letter of the law, or souls too blind to see." "You-" Megan flushed, anger rising, yet words failed her. Blake's hand trembled as she stroked his brow. "Miller… those five years, you suffered, didn't you?" Miller gently clasped her fingers, his expression composed. "The Juggins family will pay it all back." Five years earlier, Miller Cutmore had been the younger heir of Soar Group in Xavon, surrounded by hangers-on, riding high, the golden boy in the spotlight. At his first love's birthday party-Julie Juggins-Miller, who could usually hold his liquor, got drunk. He woke to find Julie naked beside him, the sheet beneath flecked with spots of blood. Even then, it could have been handled. They were dating. Engagement, marriage-simple. Even if they didn't want to go that route, the Cutmore family could have smoothed it over with money. But Julie began to scream and sob, and a crowd surged in. Phones flashed. She told them Miller had assaulted her, showed the bruises on her body. Under the Juggins family's insistence on pressing charges and the crush of public outrage, Miller was sentenced to five years. A case like that should have meant a stint in Xavon's No. 1 Prison at worst. Instead, he was sent to Belton Prison in Zerton, a name that made every criminal in Chiton go cold. Belton held only the heavy hitters, the desperadoes. There were no visitation rights, not even the most basic kind. No one knew how Miller survived that first year. Inside, men sorted themselves into ranks. Men who assaulted women were the lowest of the low. Anyone could climb onto his head and piss, and Miller endured that literal indignity. For nearly a year, the Six Kings and their lackeys shattered his bones more times than he could count. There wasn't a patch of unbroken skin on him. He crawled like a dog across the cell floor, unable to haul himself onto a bunk. He would have died in Belton if not for the old blind man. No one had expected the elderly inmate in Cell No. 6 to be a cultivator. Perhaps because Miller survived wounds that should have finished him, the old blind man took an interest in that stubborn spark of life. Miller became his disciple-he trained in martial arts, advancing year by year-until he himself became a cultivator. Over the next four years, he ground down every man who had stomped him. He personally butchered four of the Six Kings. Inmates long oppressed by those tyrants volunteered to take the fall. Some were already on death row and didn't care about carrying more deaths on their backs; they thanked Miller for getting them vengeance and the sense of relief it gave them. Six months earlier, the old blind man had said his time had come, his cultivation complete, and he was ready to ascend. During yard time that day, a clear sky gathered black clouds; lightning flared. Just as the crowd started for the doors, a bolt struck the old blind man. Crack! He dropped, looking dead to everyone-except Miller. Miller knew he hadn't died. He had shed his flesh and achieved Primordial Spirit Enlightenment. He left his last disciple a purple thumb ring and a warning: "Don't let pure yang run wild-keep yin and yang in balance. Your talent makes you learn fast-that's your strength and your weakness. You need a woman with a special constitution to tame the yang fire inside you. If you can't find her, then find more women-make up for it with numbers-or you will lose yourself to inner demons." Miller shook his head, pushing the prison years out of his mind. It wasn't exaggeration to say he had fought his way through a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood; that was how he had become the king of Belton Prison. Now that he was out, he refused to dwell on it. Better to think about how to take back everything the Cutmore family had lost. He turned to Blake. "Aunt Blake, tell me how my mother and my brother died. Xiaowei worried I'd lose control inside, so she never told me the truth." Blake drew a long breath, reluctant to reopen those scars, but she spoke anyway. "In your second year inside, Cooper Juggins, Soar Group's legal counsel at the time, produced a stash of secret recordings he'd been hoarding and hauled your brother Dax into court on a slew of charges." "During the arrest, Dax panicked and ran. A passing car hit him. He hung on in the hospital for three months, but he didn't make it." "Your mother… the shock was too much. She had a mental breakdown. When no one was looking, she jumped from the company's rooftop." "Your sister Lingyun and I went to the police to handle the paperwork to officially record your mother's and Dax's deaths. On the way back, a group of masked men dragged us under a bridge to assault us. We jumped into the river to escape. I was pulled out. Lingyun… to this day she-" Blake covered her face and sobbed. Miller's face went dark. He reached out and drew her in, gently. He breathed in her intoxicating scent, and his mind roiled. He shut his eyes, forcing down the restless heat burning under his skin. "Miller, I'm sorry." Blake leaned into his chest-broad, solid, something she could finally lean on-and cried. "I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't protect the Cutmore family's business." "The Juggins family used every dirty trick to force me to sell our shares in Soar Group at rock-bottom prices." "They even seized the villa on Hertz Street. All that's left to you is the old house in Cinville Bay." Miller brushed the tears from her smooth, pretty face. "Don't worry, Aunt Blake. Whatever the Juggins took from the Cutmores, I'll make them spit it out-with interest." Megan snorted. "Big talk is cheap. Taking on the Juggins family takes muscle and brains. You just got out-you've got no base. Keep your head down. Make money. At the very least, get your net worth over a million dollars before you even think about arm-wrestling them." Miller gave a cold snort. A chill rolled off him, prickling the skin like needles. "You'll find out soon enough whether I've got more than a sharp tongue."

Chapter 4: The First Love Conspiracy

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