Villain Hiring: Help! Author Wants Me Dead-Chapter 69: Do it.

A soft chime rang through the chamber, pulling me from my thoughts.

I glanced at the glowing interface hovering beside me, my personal communication channel displaying an urgent message sealed with the royal crest of the Romero Empire.

[Your grandson has arrived.]

I froze.

Noah?

My gaze lingered on the words, my mind struggling to process them.

He had returned?

Almost 8 years had passed since I was forced to exhile him and Sylvie—since he escaped through the fingers of the Romero clan nobles who sought to control him.

I had known, of course, that he was still alive. The whispers of his survival had started to reach the general public’s ears, but the scattered reports of his sightings were too inconsistent to be trusted.

But now, here he was. Back at the palace.

I should have felt relief.

But instead, an uneasy weight settled in my chest.

Another chime echoed. A second message.

[There has been… an incident in the throne hall.]

My fingers tightened.

An incident?

A thousand possibilities ran through my mind, each one more unsettling than the last.

I had just spent hours discussing the future of the world, the power shifts that would define the new era, and now my own grandson was at the center of something urgent?

Before I could think of it any further, the Sunfire Emperor’s voice pulled me back.

"Venus, what say you?"

I exhaled slowly, schooling my expression. "This discussion is over for now."

"But—"

I stood, my presence alone silencing the chamber. "We will reconvene later. I have more pressing matters to attend to."

Without another word, I ended the conference and turned on my heel, striding towards the throne hall.

For the first time in years, something weird twisted in my stomach.

Without another word, I strode forward. The guards followed, their footsteps echoing behind me.

I had hoped to see my hazel-eyed boy being bullied by the other guards, most of whom were not notified of the kid’s arrival.

A terrifying number of thoughts ran through my mind about what could have happened but what I saw totally stunned me instead.

The moment I stepped into the throne hall, I saw it.

A body dangled limply in Noah’s grasp.

One of my palace guards—dead?

Noah held the man’s body by the neck, his fingers still wrapped around the lifeless flesh of the man.

What shocked me wasn’t the dead man, it wasn’t how someone had dared to attack him, no.

But the fact that even despite all that had happened, the palace guard’s body was untouched, no sign of a wound anywhere. And yet, there was no doubting my senses—he was gone.

Dead.

It wasn’t just the death that sent a chill through me.

No.

It was Noah himself.

He stood at the center of the hall, his hazel eyes locked onto mine.

His usual softness—the warmth I remembered from his childhood, was nowhere to be seen.

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In its place was something colder.

Sharper.

Deadlier.

For a moment, I could only stare at him.

This was my grandson? The sickly, powerless boy I had once known?

The same child I had tried to shield from the world’s cruelty?

My hands clenched. "Noah," I said carefully. "What is the meaning of this?"

Noah tilted his head slightly, as if amused by the question. Then, ever so slowly, he let go of the body.

The corpse crumpled to the floor.

A hush fell over the room.

The guards around me tensed, but none of them moved. No one knew what to do.

Noah exhaled softly, then smiled at me.

But it wasn’t a smile of warmth.

It was cold. Detached.

And then he spoke.

"Remove the seal on Ma, Patriarch Romero."

His voice was calm… and steady.

But the words struck me harder than a blade.

Not a greeting.

Not a wide hug.

Not even the slightest hint of emotion.

All I could hear from my grandson’s voice was a cold and detached… demand?

Every single thing I had prepared for this moment, how I would explain to him that I was forced, that I had no choice but to do it—

And all I wanted in return was to hear a simple word from his mouth.

Grandpa.

Anger subconsciously flared at me, as the hurt from being so bluntly disrespectful in front of my guards and staff burned at my face.

I narrowed my eyes. "You walk into my palace, kill my guard, and then make demands of me? Is that how you’re taught to ask for favours, young man?"

The boy did not bite my bait, making me realise he was smarter than he looked. Noah’s expression didn’t change as he pointed at the dead man once again.

"That man is a member of the Assassins Guild," he said simply. "He was sent here to kill me before I could reach you."

I stilled.

The Assassins Guild?

That made things complicated.

My gaze flickered to the body at his feet.

If Noah was telling the truth, then that meant someone within my own palace had hired an assassin under the guise of a guard.

But more than that—

How did Noah know?

How did he see through the disguise?

And more importantly—how did he kill the man without leaving a single mark of his strike on the dead man’s body?

Noah took a step closer.

I hadn’t noticed it before, but his presence—his aura—was different. Stronger.

It wasn’t just confidence.

It was something darker.

Something that made the air feel heavier.

"I don’t care about the Assassins Guild," he said flatly.

"I’ll deal with them myself. But the seal on my grandma? That’s something only you can remove."

His hazel eyes darkened.

"Do it."

A demand again.

I inhaled slowly. I had expected Noah to seek me out eventually. To ask for protection, guidance—something.

But this?

This was not the same boy I had left behind.

The sickly grandson I had once worried for had vanished.

The Noah standing before me was different.

Stronger.

Colder.

Looking at him made a memory from the past resurface in my mind, making my lips twist just a little more.

"You brat—You’re just like your father!!!"

***