Between Secrets and Promises

Chapter 1

"Elena, that punk Edgar Young is around here somewhere."

At the entrance of the bar street, a stern man in his sixties, hair white as snow and features twisted with rage, confronted a young girl beside him who wore an expression of shame and frustration.

"Dad... I... let’s just go home... This is... It’s not worth it..."

Elena Swanson kept her head down, fury bubbling beneath her surface. The thought of her dad confronting that bast—Edgar—made her want to crawl into a hole and never come out. What an embarrassing mess. She would've preferred to just choke and start over in another life.

It all spiraled out of control on her eighteenth birthday—one reckless night, fueled by her friends’ nudging. The girl who’d never dared to step foot in a bar found herself sloshed for the first time. To top it off, she’d spent the night with a guy named George. But the real kicker? Edgar was the bartender. A part-time drink slinger who probably didn’t even finish high school.

She was Elena Swanson—top of her class at Ravenshire University, daughter to the richest man in Westfall County. She should be living a life full of opportunities and sparkling under the limelight.

But just one stupid mistake flipped her life on its head. Since that wild night, she hadn’t stopped retching, the nausea relentless.

When does a girl start throwing up non-stop? Only when she’s pregnant.

Pregnancy? For an eighteen-year-old who’d never been intimate with anyone? This felt like the world was crashing down around her. And before she could figure out a plan, her dad had sniffed something out. Under pressure from his questioning, she had to confess.

Now, here was her father, Robert Swanson, chairman of Swanson Enterprises, storming through the bar district flanked by a small army of bodyguards, vowing to make that punk Edgar Young pay.

But just then, Caleb’s furious shout shattered the tense air. It sent a jolt through Elena and her dad, along with the entire entourage trailing behind them, all eyes darting toward a scene unfolding along the stretch of bars.

A group of tattooed, hairy-chested guys were hot on the heels of a scrappy kid who couldn’t have been older than nineteen. They were yelling, their anger palpable.

“Edgar! You better run faster! I’m going to chop you into pieces!”

“You think I’m dumb enough to stick around? Blackthorn, you’re the local badass—why are you going after a lowly bartender?”

As Edgar sprinted away, he couldn’t resist throwing a snide remark over his shoulder, fingers wrapped around a pendant the master had given him—an object of solace that felt increasingly useless as tensions boiled over.

"Damn that psycho Caleb. He wants me to be a righteous man but here I am, stuck under this ridiculous no-fight clause for three years. I’m not allowed to hit back or even throw a punch. What kind of justice is this? Trying to enjoy life just brought all this drama, and it's my fault?!"

Edgar’s simmering frustration was lost on Caleb, his face a thundercloud. Every muscle in his body quaked with rage, the tiger inked on his chest seeming to writhe as if it wanted to tear free.

“Damn you! You have the audacity to say anything! I’ve been chasing Isabella for six months, playing the gentleman, and you—you sleep with her? I’m going to kill you today!”

The thought of his dream girl getting snagged by someone else ignited Caleb’s fury.

“Seriously?! Can we talk about logic for a second? That wasn’t ‘sleeping together.’ It was, uh, a philosophical discussion on life! I mean, throwing knives is on the table and it could hurt someone innocent!” Edgar shouted over his shoulder, clearly underestimating the gravity of the situation.

Caleb fumed, his fists clenching tight, as if they could morph into deadly weapons at any moment.

“What did you say?! Boys, catch up! Cut him down! You sleep with my girl, I’m taking your life!”

“Caleb, quit playing big shot! Don’t think I fear you! We all see each other around here—let's not ruin everything by burning bridges!”

If it weren’t for the ridiculous fighting ban laid down by his master, Edgar would’ve already thrown hands. It was clearly a losing battle, but after being raised under his master’s stern guidance, he had no choice but to obey, even when it stung like hell.

Chapter 2

Elena Swanson stood at the mouth of The Tavern Row, her heart racing at the mere mention of Edgar Young’s name. Anger coursed through her veins, sending waves of heat and cold across her expressive face. Her delicate frame trembled, an involuntary reaction that only added fuel to the fire of her rage, her fingers twitching as though she might tear at her clothing.

As fate would have it, Edgar Young was sprinting toward The Tavern Row, barreling down the alley that led straight to where she stood. Blocking his path were none other than her father, Robert Swanson, and the ever-vigilant Harold Guard.

“Get out of the way! Move!” Caleb shouted, but the small group wasn’t budging. He’d been ordered not to intervene, yet the frustration of being stuck was rising inside him like a volcano ready to erupt.

“Damn it, they won’t move. I’m running through!” he yelled, but just as he charged forward, Edgar Young skidded to a halt in front of Elena, an oddly charming grin plastered on his face.

“Hey there, gorgeous! Didn’t see you standing here. You really ought to watch where you’re lo—” His flirtation cut off abruptly as he recognized her. “Elena! What are you doing here?”

Elena had no time for his easy charm; the memory of their last encounter—scandalous and infuriating—was still fresh. In a flash, she slapped him, the sound of skin against skin slicing through the tension in the air.

“Why the hell did you hit me?” Edgar yelped, dodging her next swipe with a bewildered expression.

“I hit you because you’re a damn pervert!” Elena fired back, her cheeks flushed with indignation and distress.

At that moment, Brutus Blackthorn stormed into view, his knife glinting threateningly in the narrowing alleyway. “Young! You bastard! I’m going to take you down for what you did to My Lil—”

Edgar barely caught half of the threats flying at him before panic kicked in. “Did I offend her? I honestly didn’t mean to! I don’t keep track of all the women I offend—there are too many!” With a quick glance back at the growing mob, he bolted towards the dark, familiar entrance of The Tavern Row.

Elena, still overwhelmed by rage, saw him slipping away and threw caution to the wind. “Stop! Get back here, you jerk!” If she thought about it, running after him in those heels was ridiculous, but her hurt pride wouldn’t allow her to think rationally.

“Edgar Young! He’s the jerk who pushed Elena around! That’s him! We need to drag him back here!” Robert Swanson, still grappling with the chaos unfolding, felt a surge of disbelief across his features. His daughter was fighting someone? His mind raced as his body erupted into action, barking orders to Harold Guard.

His command sent twenty well-trained figures clad in black lunging toward the path Edgar had taken.

“This is madness!” Edgar swore under his breath, realizing the seriousness of his situation. “And Caleb will kill me if he finds out I’m fighting after the weapons ban.” Dodging the oncoming chaos, he zigzagged, moving dangerously close to getting caught.

With the mob on his tail, Edgar spun around, ready to stand his ground. Brutus lunged, blade glinting menacingly. But in that instant, Elena caught up to him and, without thinking, slapped him again.

“Move!”

Edgar, spun around and shoved her behind him just as Brutus swung his knife. His grip locked onto the larger man’s wrist in a moment of instinct, diverting the steel just in time, but not before it spiraled toward Elena and connected with her pendant.

The purple jewel shattered like glass, sending shards flying. Rage ignited within Edgar. All logic flew out the window as he transformed, fists hammering down on Brutus and his men.

“Get the hell away from me!” Edgar roared, unleashing a fury that took everyone by surprise. Whenever the dust settled from a blow, blood painted the ground and silence followed, echoing the aftermath of his violent retribution.

As his breathing calmed, the thugs lay sprawled on the floor—defeated and a mess of broken pride. Behind him, the guards exchanged tense glances, the earlier bravado evaporating in the face of Edgar’s wrath. Not one dared to step forward.

“I’ll give you three seconds to disappear,” he hissed, meeting Brutus’s burning gaze. “Or we’ll see who goes to the emergency room first.”

With a scramble, the remnants of Brutus’s gang fled in a flurry, leaving behind their wounded leader shaking with rage.

But before Edgar could turn to Elena, a sharp pain shot through his head. An ancient voice echoed ominously in his mind. “Congratulations, kid. You’ve finally breached your blood seal. You’re ready for Eternal Shade…”

With that, the world spun, and he collapsed.

When he came to, he found himself in a lavish villa, surrounded by a group of burly men, their eyes alight with a mix of awe and confusion. Edgar shivered, looking down at the muscular arms encasing him. “Uh, guys? What the hell is going on here? This isn’t my scene!”

The chill of realization settled in; he definitely wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

Chapter 3

“Your name’s Edgar Young, right?” The man lounging on the couch in front of him spoke up, his voice steady but laced with authority.

Edgar took a good look at the middle-aged guy, his graying hair contrasting with the hard look in his eyes. “Yeah, that’s me. Who the hell are you, and what’s with the rope? I don’t remember crossing any lines with you.”

“Crossing lines?” The man, Robert Swanson, smirked darkly, his jaw tightening. “My daughter, Isabella, claims you tarnished her reputation. You don’t think we have a problem?”

Edgar blinked, stunned. “What? Tarnished her reputation? Look, I don’t even know your daughter. You look like you’ve got a good thirty years on me, and she’s got to be nearly forty. Why would I be interested? This is ridiculous.”

Before he could finish, a sharp voice cut through. “Excuse me? Who’s forty? Who are you calling old?”

“Wait, Elena? What’s going on here?” Edgar turned, puzzled.

“What’s going on? You tell me what’s going on!” Elena shot back, her anger palpable.

Robert held up a calming hand. “Alright, Elena, let your dad handle this. I promise you, I won’t let him get away with anything.”

He swung back to Edgar, his cold stare razor sharp. “How are you going to weasel out of this one?”

“Elena is your daughter? Listen, I think there’s a misunderstanding here…” Edgar stumbled over his words, surprised.

“Misunderstanding? My daughter is sweet and docile. The only man she’s ever been with is you, and now she’s pregnant. You call that a misunderstanding? Let me make it clear: I’m not going to kill you. But you will pay for this.”

Robert’s lip twitched with barely contained rage as he turned to his bodyguard. “William, have the two Welsh corgis been fed?”

“Sir, it’s just about feeding time. Henry is preparing the meat,” William respectfully replied.

“Tell him to hold off. We have something fresh right here, over a hundred pounds.”

“Seriously? Just because she said something, you’re throwing accusations at me?” Edgar pushed back, shoving the guards aside. He glanced at Elena, his voice rising. “I want to know, Elena, what actually happened that night? Do you remember how you got to that hotel? Who used a Social Security number to check in? Do you even remember?”

“I… I can’t remember all the details. All I know is that you’re the one who played me for a fool.” Elena insisted, eyes blazing even though she clearly didn’t have all the facts.

To be fair, Edgar thought he could take on the bodyguards if it got physical, but this wasn’t about muscles. It was about a girl’s reputation, and he needed to clarify things. Plus, dealing with someone like Robert Swanson was dangerous.

With a resigned sigh, Edgar looked at Robert’s cold, cruel face and took a deep breath. He told the story exactly as it happened.

“I work at a bar doing drink promotions, so, yeah, I had a few drinks. That night was Elena's birthday, and she was celebrating with her friends who were all getting trashed. I ended up drinking more than I planned, but I was making good tips.”

“When the party ended, the other girls had rides waiting for them, but Elena was completely wasted, and her phone had vanished, probably taken by some friend. So, what could I do? I just helped her to the nearby Swift Inn and paid for a room.”

“I got her settled in bed, checked that she was good, and figured I’d leave. But just as I turned to go, she reached out, grabbing my hand and said, ‘Don’t leave… stay and drink with me, please.’”

Edgar chuckled, almost ruefully. “I tripped over my own feet and crashed into the nightstand, busting my forehead open.”

“I don’t even remember what happened after that. I must've passed out half on the bed, woke up in the middle of the night, saw Elena sleeping peacefully, and slipped out. Didn’t think twice about it.”

“Next thing I know, I’m being dragged into this. Just because there was a bit of blood on the sheets, they thought it was something else.” He pointed to the scab on his forehead, frustration clear in his tone. “If the only reason you think I’m guilty is because of some blood on the sheets, you’re barking up the wrong tree. That’s mine. You can check the cut; it’s still healing.”

As logical as Edgar’s explanation sounded, Robert wasn’t buying it. “You really think I’m going to believe that? My daughter is beautiful, and any guy would jump at the chance. You’re just a young punk in your twenties, and you expected me to swallow that? No way.”

Chapter 4

“Listen up, the cut on your forehead—who's to say you didn’t get that during a bar fight? You claim you're not pregnant, but what about the morning sickness? I swear, my daughter is not going to be bullied by anyone, not on my watch,” Robert Swanson bellowed, slamming his fist down on the table.

Edgar Young sat across from him, his hands cradling his head in desperation. “For crying out loud, it’s just a stomach cramp! This is basic medical knowledge! You really think I’m the father here?”

At the mention of stomach cramps, Robert’s face twisted into an angry grimace. “Nonsense! Morning sickness is morning sickness; cramps are cramps. I know my daughter’s body better than you do. You might as well just admit you’re a coward for trying to mess with Robert Swanson.”

“Oh, so now I’m a coward?” Edgar's voice cracked, the irritation boiling over. “You think bringing out a mastiff intimidates me? Seriously? Bring it on! A single dog isn’t going to scare me into silence. If I blink, I’ll change my name to Edgar Young!”

The tension hung in the air like a live wire. Each man was brimming with rage, marching toward the back yard like they were heading to war.

Elena Swanson, watching from the sidelines, felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Yes, she was furious with Edgar, but she only wanted to give him a piece of her mind, not unleash a beast like a mastiff. “Dad… what if something goes wrong?” she whispered, clutching his sleeve in concern. “What if it attacks someone?”

Robert, fueled by anger but still level-headed enough to listen to his daughter, turned to her with a reassuring smile. “No need to worry, sweetie. William and the guys have tranquilizers, just in case things get out of hand.”

“Okay… that’s a relief…”

In the yard, a couple of burly bodyguards hefted a thick iron chain, one end tethered to a massive mastiff that stood nearly three feet tall. Its massive head and square jaw were a terrifying sight. The sheer size and strength of the beast were enough to intimidate anyone; it could easily crush bones in a single snap.

Edgar took a deep breath, steeling himself, gathering his energy. If he didn’t show Robert that he meant business, this battle would never end. With a baleful glare directed at the mastiff, he stripped off his coat, revealing a toned physique. “Bring it on.”

Robert, suddenly noticing the intricate dragon tattoo coiling across Edgar's back, felt a jolt of recognition. This was the mark of the son of his old benefactor, the man who saved his family when they were on the brink of disaster. Panic surged through him, realizing he had underestimated the situation.

Before he could intervene, the mastiff lunged, jaws wide and ready to snap at Edgar's neck. In a split second, Edgar channeled his energy, leaping onto the thick neck of the beast. He wrapped his legs around, gripping tightly as it thrashed beneath him. The animal howled in fury, shaking its head violently, and Edgar felt himself slip.

But in that moment of chaos, he summoned all his power. With a burst of speed, he twisted sharply, vaulting to safety just as the mastiff’s jaws clamped down where he had been a second earlier. The creature, fueled by rage, soared into the air, panting violently, determined to make contact before he could land.

Time seemed to slow for Edgar. He hit the ground and sprang into action, his instincts guiding him as he rolled and launched himself back into the fray, seizing the opportunity. He clambered onto its broad back once more, arms ready to rain down blows.

With a flurry of punches, Edgar struck the mastiff's head, his muscles pumping as the beast transformed from ferocity to confusion. The first angry growls turned to whimpers, and soon, it was begging for mercy.

The spectacle shocked everyone watching from the sidelines. Robert’s heart raced like he had just finished a marathon. He quickly grabbed the tranquilizer gun from William’s hands and shot the mastiff, who finally slumped down, defeated.

“Thank God Edgar’s okay,” Robert thought, as relief washed over him. An injury to the son of his benefactor? That would be a betrayal he couldn't live with.

As the bodyguards moved to carry the beast away, Robert approached Edgar, his worry morphing into genuine admiration. “Damn, kid. That was impressive. You’re quite the fighter,” he chuckled, a hint of pride slicking his voice.

“Doesn't change the fact that you’re just a bully. Bring your mastiff if you want; I’ll still be standing here,” Edgar retorted, glaring at Robert defiantly.

“Hey, let’s not forget, you’re practically family now! You’re engaged to Elena for crying out loud—remember that,” Robert said, gesturing wildly.

The words hit Edgar like a brick. “What?” he exclaimed, eyes wide, turning toward Elena who mirrored his shock.

“What?” she echoed, disbelief etched across her face.

The revelation hung in the air, the intensity of their previous confrontation melting away, replaced by the uncertainty of unexpected family ties.

Chapter 5

The sudden twist left both men gasping.

But Robert Swanson’s expression was anything but playful. He fixed his serious gaze on Edgar Young and asked, “Edgar, you’re twenty this year, right? Is your father named Leonard Young?”

“Yeah. How do you know my dad’s name? Have you met them? Where are they now?” Edgar’s heart raced. The revelation that Robert could speak so directly about his father struck him as impossible. It had only been six months since he’d come down from the mountains, and hardly anyone knew his history.

“From the sound of it, you haven’t seen them in a while.”

“No, I haven’t seen them since I can remember. I only know my father’s name from my master,” Edgar replied, his voice thick with sadness. “I don’t even know if they’re still alive…”

“Who would’ve thought? Eighteen years have passed since that farewell, and the son of my benefactor has grown up.” With that, Robert recounted the story of how, eighteen years ago, he and his family had faced hardships during a business venture on the Southreach Frontier, only to be rescued by Edgar's parents.

After sharing the tale, Robert patted Edgar’s shoulder, a grin of apology spreading across his face. “I’m really sorry for the misunderstanding, Edgar. Now that I know who you are, it seems you and Elena are destined for each other. What are the odds, right? Amidst so many people, you’re going to give me a grandkid? Ha!”

“Wait, hold on. What’s all this about destiny and a grandkid?” Edgar felt a mix of confusion and disbelief. Learning about his parents was uplifting, but Robert’s words made no sense.

“Ah, let me explain. Back then…” Robert went on, detailing how Edgar’s parents had saved his family, how gratitude was offered but rejected—only for Robert to propose a sort of pact. If he had a son, the two boys would be brothers. If a daughter, they would marry.

Leonard Young had hesitated but eventually acquiesced. Although the children were young then, Robert had seen Edgar’s unique spiral dragon tattoo, and now, encountering it in person, he understood Edgar’s lineage.

Being a man of his word, Robert insisted on binding this agreement. No matter Edgar’s misgivings or Elena’s protests, he was resolute in making it happen.

“Alright, enough chatter. From today onward, this engagement is official. When the baby’s born, you two will get married immediately.”

“Wait, what? She’s not even pregnant…”

“Nonsense! I’ve been around long enough to know when someone’s expecting. You two are clearly fated to meet, and although this is a bit unorthodox, you’ll take that step sooner or later.” Robert teased.

“Dad. No way. I’m not marrying this jerk. Not happening.” Elena shot back, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Then let me see you die first,” Robert declared, his tone brooking no argument.

“Seriously? You’re doing this for some outsider?” Stunned into silence, Elena turned away, exasperated.

“You’ve been spoiled over the years, acting so entitled. What does Edgar’s family value most? Their promises—integrity is everything. Without his parents’ kindness, you wouldn’t even be here.” Robert’s voice turned stern.

He turned to Edgar then, a warmer smile replacing his earlier intensity. “I get that this decision isn’t easy for you, but you wouldn’t want to disappoint your parents, right? Just think: if you achieve something great, you might reunite with them someday.”

“You think they’re alive?” Edgar’s heart raced at the thought. After years of searching, the mere possibility sent a jolt through him.

“Definitely. They were the strongest people I’ve ever met—their speed and skill was unmatched. I believe they’re out there somewhere, maybe forced into hiding to protect you from enemies. If you want to find them, you’ll need to become powerful. Swanson Group will provide you with every opportunity.”

Enemies? What enemies? The idea gripped him. Swift movement—was it Eternal Shade? What happened before he could remember? His mind was filled with questions, and memories of his collapse earlier surfaced.

Eternal Shade was said to vastly enhance agility, granting immense speed, with nearly no one matching it. Edgar had caught a glimpse of that power during his earlier confrontation. This martial art seemed formidable.

Yet, mastering it required immense resources. Beyond daily training, it demanded expensive ingredients for medicinal baths to transform his physique. Each component was costly, and with his current finances, he couldn’t keep it up for long.

He needed to elevate his strength, and that meant money—money he lacked, as did any leads or clues to finding his parents. His master, Caleb, had long drifted away to pursue his own path. Edgar’s thoughts spiraled back to the challenges ahead.

After a moment’s silence, Edgar finally looked up at Robert, determination gleaming in his eyes. “Thanks for telling me this, Uncle Robert. If my parents are as strong as you say, I’d just embarrass them without my own accomplishments.”

Robert grinned, pleased with Edgar’s response. “Let’s do this: for now, we’ll just set an engagement, no wedding until we find your parents. We’ll do it right when both families are together. Starting tomorrow, you’re officially part of Swanson Group—don’t worry, I’ll set that up.”

With that, Robert turned back to his work, leaving Edgar and Elena staring at each other.

“Oh, don’t think for a second that just because my dad is on your side, I’m letting you off easy. Just wait and see,” Elena huffed, storming away.

Watching her go, Edgar smirked. “Well, even if you’re not my type and you’re all bad attitude, I guess I’ll have to settle…" He sighed, shaking his head as he left the Swanson house behind.

After an exhausting day filled with drama, Edgar headed to The Tavern Row for his last shift. But as he reached the street corner, a pretty girl with a radiant smile stopped him in his tracks.

“Edgar!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flushing bright red. “You jerk! You said you’d help me grow my… you know. You’ve ruined my chances!”

The playful banter hung in the air, a fitting closure to his wild day, as Edgar prepared to navigate the new realities he’d just stepped into.

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