Betrayed On The Supposed Wedding Day.

CHAPTER 8

The phone dropped out of Master Vance's hand, hitting the floor with a loud thud.

​His face turned completely white, all the pride and confidence draining out of him in a single second.

He stumbled backward, staring at Alex as if he were looking at a monster.

​"You... who are you really?!" Master Vance stammered; his knees were shaking, and he collapsed onto the floor.

​Alex lowered his phone and looked down at Master Vance with complete indifference.

​"I told you before," Alex said, "Power is not about boasting or showing off. It is about control."

​Two heavy security guards in black suits stepped forward, grabbed Master Vance by his arms, and dragged him away as he begged for mercy.

​The entire ballroom erupted into applause and respectful bows. Every single rich guest and business leader in the room bowed deeply toward Alex, recognizing him as the undisputed king of the city of Boston.

​Alex slowly turned his head and looked at Sophia.

​Sophia stood alone in the crowd, her face covered in pure regret. She took a step forward, her voice trembling. "Alex... I... I was wrong... Please..."

​Alex didn't say a single word. He simply looked straight past her, as if she were a stranger, and walked past her toward the exit with Clara by his side.

​Sophia fell to her knees on the red carpet, sobbing bitterly as she watched the man she had thrown away walk into a world where she could never follow.

​As Alex stepped outside, his phone buzzed one last time.

​It was a text from the former Chairman:

“You handled Boston well, Alex. Now, the true seat of power in the Capital awaits you.”

​Alex looked up at the starry sky, his hand resting on the dark steel Phoenix Ring.

​"The Capital," Alex whispered to himself with a sharp, cold smile. "Let's go."

They entered a train heading towards the capital city, and the high-speed bullet train sliced through the night toward the Capital.

Its quiet motor hummed softly as the train zoomed along the tracks.

​Inside the private VIP cabin, Alex sat by the window, staring at his own reflection in the dark glass.

On his left-hand side, the Phoenix Ring felt ice-cold against his skin.

Beside him on a small table were a glass of water and his mobile phone.

Every few minutes, his phone buzzed with short update messages sent by Clara’s team back in Boston.

​The door of the cabin slid open without a sound. Clara walked inside, holding two warm cups of coffee.

She had changed out of her fancy party dress and was now wearing a simple black sweater.

Clara said softly, putting a warm cup near his hand, ​“You haven’t slept at all. We will reach the Central Station in less than an hour.”

Alex replied, still looking out through the dark window, ​“Sleep can wait. In Boston, my enemies were easy to spot.

They were loud fools like Marcus Vance or scared traitors like Thomas. But at the Capital, it will not be that simple.”

Clara agreed as she sat down across from him.

Her expression grew cold. ​“You are right. My father sent a secret message to my phone before we got on the train.

He told me that when the old Chairman retired, a big power fight started in the Capital.

Right now, four powerful groups are fighting to take over the shadow empire.”

​Alex took a small sip of his coffee. Looking at the ring on his left hand, he asked calmly

​“Who is the leader of the strongest group?”

Clara answered, ​“Lord Victor. He controls all the military supply lines in the north and half of the big banks in the Capital. He was the old Chairman’s right-hand man for fifteen years. Victor believes the Phoenix Ring belongs to him. To him, you are just an unknown nobody who tricked a dying old man inside a prison cell.”

​

Alex took another slow sip of his coffee. “Let him think whatever he wants; I don't care, that's not a problem”

​Suddenly, a sharp sound echoed through the room!

​Alex’s eyes narrowed instantly; he watched the reflection in the dark window glass. The small lights on the train ceiling flickered once and turned into a dark orange warning color.

Alex said softly, putting his cup down without making any noise.​“Clara, slide down onto the floor. Hide behind the big leather seat.”

​Clara did not argue or ask any questions. Her father had trained her well for danger.

She quickly slipped off her chair and squatted down tightly in the dark space behind the heavy seats.

​BOOM!

​The door of their private cabin was not opened normally. It was blown completely off its track with a sudden, loud sound!

​Two big men dressed in dark tactical vests stepped into the doorway.

They held dark pistols with silencers attached to the front.

Their faces were totally covered by black masks.

​Neither of the men said a word. The assassin on the left raised his gun, aiming it straight at Alex’s chest!

​

In less than a second, old memories flashed inside Alex’s mind.

​Two years ago, inside the freezing cell of the private prison.

The old Chairman sat on a thin straw mat, his breath making small white clouds in the cold air.

​“Listen to me carefully, Alex,” the old man’s deep, rough voice echoed in his memory. “Real fighting is not about punching hard with your fists. It is about reading the room.

When a man decides to kill you, his shoulders drop down just three millimeters before his finger pulls the trigger.

Always watch his shoulders, not his gun!”

​

​Alex moved before the assassin could even pull the trigger!

​He did not scream or reach for a weapon.

He launched himself forward off the soft couch like a wild cat, keeping his body very low to the ground.

​

​Two quiet gunshots hissed through the air, punching neat round holes right through the soft leather headrest where Alex had been sitting just a second before! White stuffing blew out into the air.