Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!
Chapter 273: Threaten

Chapter 273: Threaten

"You... Ungrateful wretch," the old man muttered, coughing violently. "You—my own son—"

"No," Riven cut in, voice sharp as a blade. "Don’t you dare use that word. Son? You don’t get to call me that. You never treated me like one."

The man sneered, "It was worth a shot..." He murmured under his breath. Even when he was suffering, he would never regret it or even admit to regretting it.

"You ruined me," Riven said, voice softer now, but not kinder. "Or, you tried to. How did that work out for you?"

He leaned in close to the bars, eyes gleaming with an expression that seemed so unlike him.

"You think I came down here to kill you?" he whispered. "That would be too easy. Death is merciful. You don’t deserve mercy."

He stepped back.

"I want you to live, Father. I want you to rot in this cell. I want you to remember that the boy you despised is the one you couldn’t destroy."

"I’ve regretted a lot of things in my life. And you have become one of those regrets..." Lucien finally raised his head. His eyes were full of anger, but also some amount of helplessness.

Riven waited to see what excuses his father would give or if he would suddenly pretend like he cared about him.

"I regret that I didn’t kill you the moment you were born. I regret that I let you live, or that I showed you mercy. Hahaha, you thought I would say sorry? Never."

He took a slow step forward, letting each word land like thunder.

"You took all of her love for yourself and then mercilessly killed her."

A pause. Lucien’s posture stiffened, his expression twitching between outrage and fear.

"You might not remember it," Riven continued with quiet menace, "but I do."

Riven narrowed his eyes but did not say a word. Lucien thought he was getting under Riven’s skin and continued.

Lucien’s gaze flickered to his shackled hands, then back to Riven. His voice, though hoarse, rattled with intensity.

"You really are your mother’s son," Lucien sang, his voice breaking with some deranged pride. "The only difference is... You do not deserve any of this."

A manic glint crossed Lucien’s eyes as he looked between them. Expectation swelled in him, this would trigger a response. He believed the manipulation would work.

Riven looked down almost sympathetically. Almost, but not quite.

"Is that all you wanted to say?" Lucien pressed, dripping sarcasm and venom. "I know you miss her."

Finally, Riven spoke, the words slicing through the stale dungeon air.

"You should start saving your energy. I just passed the order — starve you for a week." He paused, the echo of authority ringing in each syllable. "Maybe if I feel merciful... Nah, I’m not merciful. Enjoy your stay."

With that, Riven turned his heel to leave, and Troy awkwardly followed him. Riven offhandedly mentioned something loud enough for Lucien to hear.

"Oh, don’t you think I should’ve told him what happened to his proud noble clan. Hahaha..." His words were casual, but they carried explosive implications. He opened the door, stepping outside as it shut with a thundering boom, sealing Lucien’s fate for the near future.

Lucien thundered forward, slamming his palms against the bars.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!" He roared. The sound bounced unnaturally off the stone, long, hollow.

Lucien’s scream rang through the dungeon, swallowed by damp stone and silence. But no answer came.

He was alone now. Left with nothing but the weight of his own thoughts.

And for a man like Lucien, that was the cruellest punishment of all.

He staggered back from the bars, his breath heaving, chest tight. The chains around his wrists clinked as he fell to his knees, mind racing. What had Riven done?

Lucien’s pride had always been his armour. His clan was one of the oldest and most respected noble houses—an unbroken lineage of power and prestige. Wealth, name, influence... Those weren’t just assets, they were identity. He had worn them like a crown long before he ever touched real power.

And now?

A chill settled in his bones.

No, no, no. That couldn’t be true.

His mind raced through all the connections he still had. Surely, someone would have protested if his household had fallen, Riven wouldn’t allow himself to be from a fallen house, would he? As the Alpha’s mate, he wouldn’t allow himself to suffer such an insult. Surely, his wife, no, that cowardly woman, would have preserved the family name. She owed him that much.

The great patriarch of the house, brought to his knees by the very thing he called a stain on his legacy.

Lucien’s chest burned with shame.

Deep down he knew, he knew that Riven did not care, nor did his wife... What about that stepson of his?

Lucien had always assumed that if he were to fall, his name would live on. That his stepson, however unworthy, would carry the family crest. Would wield the power to eventually free him.

Lucien’s mind spun. Did they strip the house of its nobility? Was the estate seized? Were the assets drained? The land handed off to the wolves? The thought made bile rise in his throat.

His noble name- worthless?

He clutched the chains around his wrists, suddenly aware of how cold the metal had become

He should have killed Riven the moment he was born... It was his mistake... No, it was her mistake. She protected him. He wanted the baby gone when it was in the womb, but she refused to give in. She even brought the others to fight him...

He started laughing manically again, losing any semblance of sanity. Those men who helped her were abandoned by her, too. And they must be holding the same amount of hatred for Riven.

So what if he was imprisoned? Riven had even more enemies on the outside. He would be hunted down and killed once they knew of his existence. Lucien coped knowing that his hatred would carry on.