Rise of The Abandoned Husband (Liam Knight) novel Chapter 42

42 Chapter 42 – A Chilling Premonition and a Daring

Claim

Gideon Blackwood stared at me, his face frozen in shock as I leaned into his now doorless luxury car.

“Listen carefully,” I said, my voice deceptively calm. “I don’t have time for your childish games. Move your car now, or I’ll move it for you.”

When he didn’t respond, still gaping at his ruined door lying on the pavement, I sighed and reached in. The slap I delivered was precise–just hard enough to leave a mark without causing serious injury.

Gideon’s hand flew to his reddening cheek. “You… you…” he sputtered.

“That’s your only warning,” I said. “Next time, I won’t be so gentle.”

Finally finding his senses, Gideon fumbled with his gearshift and jerked his car forward, tires squealing as he sped away. I turned to see Damian staring at me through the windshield, his mouth hanging open.

I walked back and slid into the passenger seat. “We should get going. Your father needs help.”

Damian blinked repeatedly before starting the car. “That was… How did you…

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, cutting him off. “Tell me more about your father’s condition.”

As we drove through Havenwood City’s winding streets, Damian explained that his father, Alistair Prescott, had been deteriorating for weeks. What started as fatigue had progressed to weakness, night sweats, and an unexplainable chill that no amount of heating could cure.

“The doctors found nothing” Damian said, frustration evident in his voice. “Perfect bloodwork, clear scans. They’re calling it stress–induced, but I’ve seen my father handle business crises before. This is different.”

I nodded, absorbing the information. “When did it start?”

“About a month ago, right after we renovated the east wing of our house.”

42 Chapter 42 A Chilling Promonition and a Daring Claim

That detail caught my attention. “Renovations? What kind?”

“Nothing major–just modernizing some old rooms, replacing antique fixtures. Why?”

I didn’t answer immediately. There were certain principles in ancient medicine that modern science dismissed–the flow of energies, the balance of elements, the importance of positioning. My father’s knowledge included extensive information on these topics, information that had been downloaded into my mind that fateful night.

“Just curious,” I replied.

The Prescott estate was impressive–not as grand as the Ashworth manor but substantial nonetheless. A sprawling two–story home with manicured gardens and a circular driveway, it spoke of old money and established power.

Yet the moment I stepped out of the car, I felt it–a bone–deep chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. Something was wrong here. Terribly wrong.

“Do you feel that?” I asked Damian, who was leading me toward the front entrance.

“Feel what?”

I frowned. “The cold. It’s… unnatural.”

Damian looked puzzled. “The entire house has been like an icebox lately. We’ve had heating specialists here three times, but they can’t find any issues with the system.”

the

Inside, the house was elegantly furnished but had an unmistakable atmosphere of neglect. Not physical neglect–everything was spotless–but a spiritual emptiness, as if the very soul of the home had been wounded.

Damian led me to a sitting room where two men waited. The older one, whom I assumed was Alistair Prescott, sat bundled in blankets despite the room being noticeably overheated. His face was gaunt, his eyes sunken, his skin pale with an almost grayish tint.

The second man was middle–aged, dressed in traditional Chinese attire, with a thin beard and calculating eyes. He assessed me with obvious displeasure.

“Father,” Damian said, “this is Liam Knight, the healer I told

you about.”

42 Chapter 42 A Chilling Premonition and a Daring Claim

Alistair Prescott barely had the strength to nod. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Knight, though I don’t know what you can do that specialists haven’t already tried.:

“And this,” Damian continued, gesturing to the other man, “is Mr. Nolan, a feng shui master we consulted.”

Mr. Nolan gave me a tight smile. “I’ve already diagnosed the problem. During renovations, they broke a Ming dynasty vase that had been protecting this house for generations. It was positioned at a critical energy junction. Without it, negative qi has been flooding in.”

I walked around the room slowly, ignoring Mr. Nolan’s explanation. The cold sensation was stronger here, almost palpable. It wasn’t just temperature–it was something

predatory, something feeding.

“It’s not the vase,” I said quietly.

Mr. Nolan’s face reddened. “Excuse me? I’ve been practicing the ancient arts for thirty years, young man. This family is suffering from a severe feng shui imbalance that-

“It’s not the vase,” I repeated more firmly. “That’s treating a symptom, not the cause.” Alistair shifted in his chair, his watery eyes studying me. “What makes you so certain, Mr. Knight?”

I approached him, kneeling to examine his face more closely. His pupils were dilated despite the bright room. His breathing was shallow. Most telling was a barely perceptible tremor in his left hand–not the shake of age or illness, but something rhythmic, almost like it was responding to an external pulse.

“May I see the garden?” I asked suddenly.

Damian looked confused but nodded. “Of course.

We moved through the house, the chill intensifying as we approached the back of the property. The garden was beautiful–stone pathways winding through carefully maintained flower beds, a small ornamental pond with koi fish, and several ancient trees providing shade.

Mr. Nolan followed, clearly irritated. “Mr. Prescott has already paid a substantial consultation fee. My recommendation is clear–they need to commission a replacement vase with specific properties to-”

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42 Chapter 42–A Chilling Premonition and a Daring Claim

“It’s here,” I interrupted, stopping abruptly in the center of the courtyard.

Something was buried beneath us. I could feel it–a malevolent presence, something disturbed during the renovations, something awakened.

“What’s here?” Alistair asked weakly, having followed us despite his condition.

I turned to face them. “Mr. Prescott, I know you don’t know me, and what I’m about to say will sound strange. But there’s something under your home that shouldn’t be there.”

Mr. Nolan scoffed. “This is absurd. The problems in this house are purely related to energy flow disruption from the broken artifact. Even a novice would understand- “Quiet,” Alistair commanded with surprising strength, his eyes locked on mine. “Continue, Mr. Knight.”

I pointed to a spot near an old cherry tree. “There. You need to dig there.”

“Dig?” Damian repeated incredulously. “Why would we-”

“Because something was disturbed during your renovations,” I explained. “Not broken, but awakened. I can feel it. It’s… feeding on your father’s energy.”

Alistair studied me intently. “You speak with remarkable confidence for someone who just arrived. How do you know these things?”

I met his gaze directly. “I know the arcane arts, Mr. Prescott. Not feng shui, something much older.”

Mr. Nolan stepped between us. “This is preposterous! Mr. Prescott, I cannot stand by while this… this charlatan undermines centuries of established practice with baseless claims!”

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