15 Million Reasons For Revenge

Any offenses made against Mr Cole will not be tolerated

Donovan kept talking, but Clara didn’t even spare him a glance. Her sharp eyes scanned the crowd as if she was searching for someone important.

The murmur among the guests swelled up.

“Did you hear that? He said Cole Group!” someone gasped.

“Wait—the Cole Group?!” another voice echoed in disbelief.

“No wonder Mr. Donovan’s acting so respectful! It all makes sense now—she’s from the Cole Group!”

“That’s insane! I’ve only ever heard their name on the news!”

Within seconds, the whispers grew louder, people elbowing one another, craning their necks just to catch a glimpse of Clara. Even those who had no idea what was happening started connecting the dots from the murmurs around them.

I stood there, speechless.

I’d always heard about the Cole Group, the way their reach extended across every major industry in finance, tech, real estate, energy—you name it. People spoke about them like they were gods of the business world, untouchable and ruthless. But to me, it had always been just talking… something far away from the life of a broke college student like me.

But seeing the crowd’s reaction at just the mention of the Cole Group—made me understand.

This was the world my supposed father ruled.

It hit me: if what Clara said on the phone was true, then I wasn’t just some poor kid anymore.

I was the son of a man who could make the entire city bow with a word. And the woman standing there was just his assistant.

At the entrance, Clara continued scanning the crowd, her expression was calm but focused. Her eyes swept past rows of stunned faces, but when she didn’t find who she was looking for, her brows furrowed ever so slightly.

That was my cue.

I got to my feet, ready to step forward when a hand suddenly shot out in front of me.

“Stop right there,” Damian snarled, stepping into my path like a guard dog. “Who the fuck told you to move?”

I stared at him coldly, but he didn’t stop.

“I don’t give a damn where you think you’re going,” he continued, his voice loud enough for people nearby to hear. “But Mr. Donovan cleared this place out for a reason. You walk over there, and you’re gonna piss him off—and that woman too.”

Alina was quick to jump in, her voice sharp and mocking. “Yeah, even Damian has to show her respect,” she said, crossing her arms, her lips curling into that same nasty smirk I once thought was cute. “Why would you, of all people, try to go near her? You wanna get us all killed?”

She tilted her head and added with venomous delight, “You’re a fucking loser, Ethan. Go home and jerk off—you’re an embarrassment to humanity.”

I stared at her for a long moment. How the hell did I ever fall for an idiot like her?

Every word she spat, every sneer Damian threw at me, only made the fire inside me burn hotter. From the moment I’d walked into that club, all I’d faced was humiliation. My pride had been trampled and my dignity was shredded.

I could feel my anger rising, begging to explode. But deep inside, another voice whispered to me to calm. I took a slow breath, steadying myself.

They worshipped money. They measured worth in power and wealth. Fine. Then I’d show them what real money could do.

I raised my head, meeting Damian’s glare head-on, and said evenly, “She’s looking for me.”

The laughter, the mocking smiles all froze midair. A few people in front of me turned, their eyes were wide in disbelief.

Damian’s mocking voice cut through the air like a whip.

“What did you just say?” he sneered, his finger pointing toward me. “That woman from the Cole Group is here to see you? Ahaha, Oh, give me a damn break, man! At least make up a lie that makes sense. You’re killing me here, Ethan.”

Laughter rippled through the people standing nearby. Alina’s voice came out next, it was filled with disgust.

“How could you even say something that stupid?” she hissed, her eyes were narrowing. “I thought you were just a broke nobody, but no—you’re a broke, brain-damaged liar. God, you make me want to vomit.”

Her words cuts deeper, but I said nothing. Damian strutted closer, his smirk widening with every step he takes.

“What’s wrong, huh? Did my bodyguards hit you too hard earlier?” he mocked.

Then, pulling a wad of cash from his pocket, he flicked it at my face. The bills scattered across the floor.

“Here,” he said, laughing. “My gift to you. Go fix your damn brain. And try being an honest loser for once. I’ve got faith in you, buddy. Just—” he chuckled, “—don’t go scaring people with your delusions next time.”

The laughter that followed was cruel and infectious.

“What a loser.”

“He actually thinks he’s someone important.”

“He’s not even worthy to breathe the same air as her.”

“Probably just another broke lunatic chasing money.”

“You sure he’s not brain damaged? Someone better stop him before he offends those Cole Group people. We’ll all get dragged down with him.”

Each word of the people around landed like a stone in my chest. It all flooded my ears until my heart grew cold.

But then…

The murmurs faltered as the sound of heels echoed across the club floor.

Click. Click. Click.

I looked up. Clara was walking straight toward us, her black-suited bodyguards flanking her like shadows. Her presence alone was enough to silence the entire room. Even Donovan, the arrogant club owner, trailed behind her.

“Shit… she’s coming this way.”

“Did we… say something wrong?”

“Quiet, quiet—don’t piss her off!”

The crowd quickly backed away, splitting down the middle like the Red Sea as Clara approached. The crisp sound of her heels striking the floor made every heartbeat in the room stutter.

Damian’s smirk melted. His eyes widened and looked disbelief.

And then she stopped—right in front of me.

For a heartbeat, all I could do was stare. She looked even more striking up close— so calm and confident.

I was about to speak when Damian stumbled forward, desperate to salvage his pride.

“Miss,” he began, his voice was trembling. “I’m Damian Cross. How may I help you?”

Clara’s brows knit together. Her gaze turned sharp enough to cut through steel. She said just two words.

“Fuck off.”

Damian froze. The color drained from his face. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Then, Clara turned to me.

The ice in her eyes softened, and to my utter shock, she smiled and spoke with respect, “Mr. Cole, I hope I’m not late.”

Her words hit like thunder.

I heard Damian’s breath hitch. His eyes bulged, and his body began to shake as if he’d just seen a ghost.

“How… how’s that possible?” he whispered. “She’s here for him? No way… no fucking way…”

Alina looked like she’d been struck by lightning. Her face turned pale, her jaw trembling as her eyes darted between me and Clara. She wanted to speak, but not a single word came out.

Clara ignored them entirely. She stepped closer, her perfume brushing against my skin, it was so intoxicating. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pristine white handkerchief and gently brushed my cheeks..

The entire club froze.

Not a breath. Not a whisper.

Every single person stood rooted in place.

No one had anticipated this could have predicted that this beautiful, picturesque woman had come here for me.

In their eyes, Clara and I looked… intimate. The air between us was charged, thick enough to choke on. I could practically feel the questions boiling in their minds: Who was he really? What kind of connection did he have to this woman from the Cole Group?

I caught a fleeting glimpse of Donovan’s face—his surprise was brief but telling. His brows tightened, and his expression turned solemn, respectful even.

It was the kind of look reserved for people who mattered.

And in that instant, I knew he’d just attached a new level of importance to me.

Damian, on the other hand, looked like a man whose world had just crumbled. His mouth hung open, his eyes full of disbelief and… jealousy.

Pure, unfiltered jealousy.

Meanwhile, Alina had both hands clamped over her mouth. Her eyes were wide and empty, as if she couldn’t reconcile what she was seeing with the man she used to mock.

Clara was so close. The distance between us could be measured in centimeters. From here, I could see the graceful curve of her neck, the soft shimmer of her earrings. Her scent electrifying.

She leaned in, her breath grazing my ear.

“Sir,” she whispered softly, “for safety reasons, I can only address you as Mr. Cole in public.”

Then, lowering her voice further, she continued, “Are those two…”

Her gaze flicked to Damian and Alina.

“…the ones responsible?”

I realized something then. To confirm who I was, Clara and the Cole Group must have investigated everything about me. My relationships, my habits, the people closest to me. Alina, as my ex-girlfriend, would have naturally come up in their reports. And now, seeing her draped around Damian’s arm, Clara needed no explanation.

She had already pieced it all together.

I gave a single, quiet nod.

Clara’s expression didn’t change. She curved her lips slightly, “Understood,” she said softly.

“Leave this to me.”

She gently wiped the blood from my face with the same white handkerchief. When she stepped back, her light fragrance drifted away with her. A strange, unexpected disappointment build up in my chest.

Her gaze fell on the bloodstained fabric, and something in her eyes shifted. When Clara lifted her head again, her entire aura had changed calm, yes, but deadly calm. She locked her eyes locked on Damian and Alina; it was so sharp and cold enough to make their skin crawl.

“Life is short,” she said evenly, “Bear with it. It’ll be over quickly.”

The color drained from Damian’s face. His mouth twitched into a forced smile, his voice trembling as he tried to laugh it off.

“Miss, I—uh—is there some kind of misunderstanding here?” he stammered, his confidence from earlier melting into panic.

“No.”

She tilted her head slightly, her tone turning colder, “Any offence made against Mr. Cole will not be tolerated.”