Free Web NovelChapter 20: Chapter 20: Madelyn’s Manipulation
When Madelyn pushed open the door to Homelander’s room, he was sitting on the sofa.
The moment Homelander saw her come in, he said coldly, "Get out."
"You haven’t come to see me these past two days. You haven’t even looked at me."
Madelyn’s voice came from the doorway, carrying just the right trace of hurt.
She closed the door behind her. Her high heels tapped against the marble floor at a steady, unhurried pace, just like always. Always in control, always composed.
But tonight, there was something else in her eyes. Unease, calculation, and anxiety carefully disguised as tenderness.
Homelander looked up, his expression a little complicated.
He opened his mouth, but did not know what to say.
Madelyn. His nanny.
The woman in his life who came closest to the word "mother."
Now Madelyn stood in front of him, wearing a finely tailored dark blue suit with a wide neckline that revealed a deep line of cleavage.
Homelander’s gaze drifted there involuntarily. He opened his mouth slightly, his thoughts unreadable.
"Homelander?"
Madelyn sat down beside him, leaning close, then reached out as if to touch his face. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
"What’s wrong, Homelander?"
Homelander shifted half an inch to the side, avoiding her hand.
It was a tiny movement, but Madelyn’s fingers froze in midair, as if they had struck an invisible wall.
"You and Edgar."
Homelander’s voice was much lower than usual.
"And Vought. You hurt Soldier Boy."
"No, no, my baby."
Madelyn shook her head, her eyes sincere to the point of innocence.
"At the time, I only thought Soldier Boy was a supervillain. I didn’t know he was your father. I really didn’t. What happened to him, all those things, I knew nothing about them."
"But when I tried to look into his file before,"
Homelander stared into her eyes.
"you stopped me."
Homelander’s gaze was full of anger. He was no longer looking at Madelyn’s chest.
The room fell silent. The low hum of the air vent suddenly became especially clear.
Madelyn looked at him, then suddenly did something he had not expected at all.
She leaned over, opened her arms, and hugged him.
A solid embrace that wrapped Homelander completely in her arms.
Madelyn was actually very nervous. She did not know whether Homelander could still be controlled now, but she knew this was the only thing she could do.
For Vought.
Then Madelyn moved behind Homelander, resting her chin against his head and letting him lean against that part of her.
Homelander froze.
His hands hung at his sides, and he did not know where to put them.
"It was all my fault."
Madelyn’s voice was very low, her breath brushing past his ear with a barely noticeable tremor.
"I didn’t know anything back then, baby. If I had known he was your father, I never would have done that. Forgive me, all right? My baby."
Homelander’s Adam’s apple bobbed once, and he glanced upward again.
He wanted to say something, but the anger and grievance that had been building in his chest for days suddenly had nowhere to go inside Madelyn’s embrace.
Her hand began to pat his back gently.
"You haven’t come to see me for two days. Are you going to stop coming to me from now on?"
As Homelander leaned closer, Madelyn pulled back a little, cupped his face in both hands, and gently rubbed his cheeks with her thumbs.
"I wait for you every day. Do you know that? Every day, baby."
Homelander looked into her eyes, his lips moving slightly.
Madelyn pressed on.
"Trust me."
Madelyn’s fingers slid from the corner of his eye to his cheek. "I have never lied to you, baby. Those things were all Edgar’s decisions. I was only carrying them out for him. As for your father, I really didn’t know at the time."
She leaned even closer, her forehead almost touching his.
"Let me make it up to you, all right? Just like before. You can have Soldier Boy’s love, and you can have my love too, can’t you?"
Homelander’s breathing grew uneven.
He knew Madelyn might be lying.
But he could barely stop himself.
His Super Hearing clearly picked up Madelyn’s heartbeat. It was abnormally fast.
Madelyn had explained before that it was because she was moved and excited, but there was another possibility. Madelyn might be afraid.
But right now, was she moved, or was she afraid?
Homelander did not know.
Everything that had happened over the past few days, his father’s return, the blocked file, Black Noir’s death, the conversations in the office that were half true and half false, all of it had tangled together until the string in his mind felt ready to snap.
And at this moment, Madelyn’s warmth was real. Her breathing was real. That familiar scent on her was real too.
"Don’t go."
Madelyn whispered, her fingers sliding to the back of his neck as she gently pressed his head toward her shoulder.
Homelander’s eyelids lowered, and the resistance inside him was crumbling bit by bit.
But in the next moment, Homelander remembered what his father had called him.
"Wimp."
He did not want to be a wimp.
He did not want to be controlled by anyone anymore. He did not want to be anyone’s tool again.
He was Homelander, the strongest Supe in the world.
Yet Madelyn’s arms were still around his neck.
Homelander clenched his fists.
The next instant, there was a bang.
The door was kicked open.
When the door flew open, the heavy metal panel tore off its hinges and smashed into the opposite wall with a deafening crash.
Madelyn screamed and let go of Homelander.
Homelander shot to his feet, his pupils shrinking sharply.
A tall, silent figure stood in the doorway, dressed in a deep green Supersuit. His shield was not in his hand, but hanging at the side of his left arm, its metal edge reflecting a cold gleam under the hallway lights.
Benjamin, Soldier Boy, stood in the doorway, looking at the scene on the sofa.
There was no anger in his movements, no roar, no questioning. He did not even step inside.
He simply stood there, watching Homelander with an extremely calm gaze.
Benjamin had already noticed something was wrong with Madelyn. When he had passed by earlier, she was dressed like one of those aging old prostitutes. Utterly disgusting.
