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The bodyguard king of the female CEO

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Eight years ago, Remy Beaumont was imprisoned on charges of r*p*; eight years later, he emerged as a warrior god from the military, returning to the city. Upon learning that the girl who had been harmed by him had given birth to a daughter for him and was living a miserable life of being bullied by others, the fiery wrath of the warrior god engulfed the city.

Return of the Warrior King

Within the spacious confines of an office, a middle-aged military officer bearing the weight of three stars sat upright in his chair. He extinguished the cigarette butt in the ashtray, his resolute countenance gazing at the young officer standing rigidly opposite.

The young officer stood tall and robust, with a wheat-toned complexion that accentuated his strikingly handsome and chiseled features.

"Remy Beaumont, this mission is formidable. Will you not refuse?" the general's tone carried a subtle tranquility.

Remy Beaumont remained expressionless, his posture erect and his voice thunderous as he replied, "May I inquire, Sir, do I possess the right to refuse?"

Upon hearing this, the general's initially stern demeanor gave way to a cursing smile. "Spare me the pretense, what do you wish to accomplish?" he retorted.

In response, Remy Beaumont chuckled indifferently, a touch of inscrutable sadness glinting in his eyes. He reached for the half-empty pack of premium cigarettes on the general's desk, casually lit one, and then placed the pack in his pocket.

After taking a deep drag, Remy Beaumont inquired, "Why choose me?"

The general sighed, "You are the sole young general in our ranks at the age of twenty-six, and the only instructor in our Blood Wolf Special Forces. If not for the arduous mission, you would not have been allowed to return to society."

Pausing momentarily, the general furrowed his brow. "Remy Beaumont, you should be aware of your past identity. This return to society marks not your former title as a decorated military god, but once again as the convict of r*p*."

Unfazed, Remy Beaumont retorted, "It matters not. I am an outcast, subjected to ridicule and humiliation since childhood. Poverty at home, insults from neighbors and classmates did not inspire me to excel but rather twisted my psyche. Brawls, extortion, I am adept at all. Therefore, becoming that person again is second nature to me."


Here, a hint of sorrow clouded Remy Beaumont's gaze, as he continued, "This led me to commit an act at eighteen that has haunted me ever since."

That year, unable to enter high school at sixteen, he had descended into lawlessness alongside thugs. At eighteen, driven by alcohol, he committed an act that went against his principles, raping a young girl.

One month after his imprisonment, he was unexpectedly taken away and gradually rose to become the most outstanding warrior king on the continent.

Yet, the events of that year remained a burden on his heart, unable even to recall the face of the girl he had harmed.

Exhaling a smoke ring, Remy Beaumont turned to the general and expressed gratitude, "Hawthorne, I appreciate the opportunity you have given me. Without your intervention, this rogue would still be languishing in prison."

Addressing a commanding officer with the title of Hawthorne, only Remy Beaumont in the entire military camp dared to do so, holding the authority to do so.

Hawthorne, also known as Sebastian Hawthorne, hailed from the distinguished Tiger Gate family on the continent. As the supreme commander of the Blood Wolf Special Forces, he oversaw the highest-ranking special forces unit on the continent.

At Hawthorne's words, the general's countenance suddenly darkened. He continued, "In truth, someone else rescued you from prison and brought you to the camp."

"Oh..." Remy Beaumont furrowed his brow, a hint of perplexity in his eyes.

For eight years, he had believed it was Hawthorne's discernment that saved him, propelling him toward a future as a warrior god. Could there be another behind this intervention?

Sebastian Hawthorne elucidated, "Remy Beaumont, your true lineage has always been a mystery. You claim to be an orphan, but an orphan lacks the ability to secure a place in the Blood Wolf Special Forces."

Upon hearing this, Remy Beaumont's furrowed brow deepened. Could another be involved with his origins?

Observing Remy Beaumont's perplexed expression, Sebastian Hawthorne continued, "I have researched extensively, and your lineage remains an enigma. Perhaps you are truly a fortunate orphan. I cannot assist you in this matter, but I can alleviate the guilt weighing on your conscience."

Brightening at this offer, Remy Beaumont's eyes sparkled.

Sebastian Hawthorne added, "The girl you harmed is now in Celestia City. Her name is Lillian Thorne. She was drugged, leading to your unfortunate encounter. If my suspicions are correct, you too were likely drugged that day."

"Lillian Thorne..." Remy Beaumont whispered, "No wonder her demeanor was so peculiar that day. No wonder my restraint was lacking. However, it is regrettable; I couldn't even discern her appearance."

"She was once a renowned jewel in the public eye, but now, she is a hapless woman who has suffered much injustice over the years. Currently, she is an executive in the family enterprise with a daughter by her side," Sebastian Hawthorne added.

Upon hearing of Lillian Thorne's hardships, Remy Beaumont felt a pang of self-reproach. Upon learning of her daughter, a sense of relief washed over him, and he remarked, "She has married; I hope her life is filled with happiness."

Shaking his head in disagreement, Sebastian Hawthorne continued, "The year after you harmed her, she gave birth to a daughter. Consequently, she was almost driven out of the family and endured immense humiliation and disgrace. You shattered her life!"

"What..." Remy Beaumont stood up abruptly, his tone heightened, utterly blindsided by the magnitude of the harm he had caused the girl.

One can only imagine the immense pain a girl endures after being r*p*d. Unwed motherhood would undoubtedly have subjected her to ridicule and shame by countless others.

Gradually, Remy Beaumont's expression turned exceedingly solemn, as he declared in a grave tone, "From this day forth, my life... is intertwined with the lives of both mother and daughter."

Sebastian Hawthorne advised, "Hurry, Remy Beaumont, Lillian Thorne appears to be facing trouble. Delay stands to be your lifelong regret."

With a resounding crash, a hole was blasted through the sturdy wooden table.

Two days later, at seven o'clock in the evening, a luxurious hotel in the bustling district of Celestia City was brimming with opulent banquets. Outside the hotel, a lavish Hummer was parked, engulfed in a haze of smoke, with a driver, a co-pilot, and two men in the back seats – all with wheat-toned complexions and exceptional strength. Remy Beaumont sat in the rear, flicking away his cigarette butt.

"Inform me of all the Thorne family's dealings," Remy Beaumont, his countenance somber, directed with ice-cold eyes lacking any emotion.

The co-pilot respectfully interjected, "Instructor, the Thorne family is one of the few family businesses in Celestia City. While not at the top echelon, they do wield some influence."

"The current head of the Thorne family is Alexander Thorne, celebrating his seventieth birthday today. He intends to marry his granddaughter, Lillian Thorne, to a man named Nathaniel Everhart. Nathaniel Everhart's father is a chairman of a prominent corporation, not as powerful as the Thorne family but boasting a net worth in the billions."

"However, this Nathaniel Everhart is a dissipated scion, carousing without regard for consequence. He is of questionable character."

The man next to Remy Beaumont added, "Instructor, it is rumored that Lillian Thorne has endured much hardship in recent years; the entire Thorne family treats her as subhuman, constantly oppressing her entire family."

Upon hearing this, Remy Beaumont's countenance turned cold and daunting, as he uttered in a chilling tone, "From this day forth, no one shall be allowed to mistreat my woman." With that, Remy Beaumont pushed open the door and stepped out.

"Commander, allow us to accompany you and maintain the dignity for you," the driver urgently exclaimed.

The driver, by the name of Gabriel Westwood, the co-driver named Lucien Sinclair, and the man in the backseat known as Tristan Lockhart, all three were elite members of the Blood Wolf Special Forces, holding the rank of Colonel. Despite their young age, they held immense power, with the ability to mobilize local troops, showcasing the formidable strength of the Blood Wolf Special Forces.

Each of these three individuals was a warrior in their own right, yet they held Remy Beaumont in the highest regard, treating him as if he were a deity.

Their presence in the city of Celestia was solely to aid Remy Beaumont and provide any necessary assistance he might require.

After closing the car door, Remy Beaumont remarked, "There is no need. Your identities must remain concealed. Should the need arise, I will seek you out." With that statement, Remy Beaumont proceeded towards the entrance of the hotel.

Inside the hotel, the atmosphere of the various banquets was lively and exuberant. Alexander Thorne, donned in a designer suit, exuded a radiant smile, with guests constantly raising their glasses in congratulatory toasts towards him.

Yet in the farthest corner of a dozen or so banquet tables, there sat a seemingly inconspicuous small table, occupied by just four individuals, or one could say three and a half.

This quartet consisted of a young girl, barely six or seven years old, possessed of striking features and enchanting, luminous eyes that held an indescribable allure. Her two small pigtails at the nape of her neck added to her irresistible charm.

Sitting beside the young girl was a striking woman who appeared to be in her early twenties. Her long, cascading hair and casual attire failed to overshadow her captivating beauty, exuding a sense of ethereal grace in every movement. There was an irresistible urge to embrace her tenderly.

From time to time, the woman would cast a gentle glance towards the young girl beside her, her eyes emanating an indescribable tenderness, yet tinged with a hint of profound melancholy.

Forced Marriage

On the sidelines, a man and a woman in their forties appeared visibly despondent.

"Lillian, listen to your mother. I cannot bear to part with Seraphina either. As long as we can find a good home for her, you can marry the son of the Everhart Group without any worries. Your life...would be better." Arabella Sinclair gazed at Lillian Thorne, her words filled with deep concern and maternal advice.

Arabella Sinclair, wife of Alexander Thorne's second son Cormac Thorne, had endured much suffering and humiliation over the years for the sake of Lillian Thorne. Her daughter had been a victim of assault, giving birth to the assailant's daughter amidst the jeers and insults of others.

Arabella Sinclair not only harbored a deep hatred towards the rapist but also directed her animosity towards the granddaughter who should never have come into this world. At times, she even entertained thoughts of abandoning the child discreetly.

Lillian Thorne helped


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