Warrior’s Promise - Chapter 3289

“I already have a child with another man.”

It was a lie made in order to refuse the proposal of the leader of the most feared mercenary company in the entire country. But his response was unexpected.

“It doesn’t matter who the child is. Just birth it.”

She couldn’t understand.

What could this man possibly want with the princess of a failing nation?

Knowing she married a wrong guy, what would she do to deal with the subsequent marriage lives?

In order to pay for her brother’s medical expenses, she had to replace her own sister to marry the rich family's elder son . She always thought she was married to the elder one, but she did not know her husband was nominally the younger son He Yi Ning.

He Yi Ning, the real heir of the rich family, the ruthless business emperor, the ruthless workplace tyrant, and her sister’s dreaming husband. When she found out that the person who married her was He Yi Ning, she stunned and asked, “Shouldn’t i be your sister-in-law?” He smiled charmingly: “Are you unhappy with your husband?”

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”