2025-06-19 22:23:15Clap!
A fiery sting lit up Seth’s cheek. He cracked his eyes open, annoyed, and saw a half-naked woman standing over him—curves on full display.
Guess he was paying for last night’s sins.
"You asshole! What did you do to me?" The woman in front snapped, fury blazing in her eyes.
“Well, calm down, lady. Wasn’t last night… unforgettable?” Seth’s eyes gleamed as they lingered on the curve of her body.
“You took advantage of me while I was drunk, didn’t you?!"
"You fucking rapist! How dare you do this to me?!” Rose’s furious glare held a trace of disbelief.
She was the sole heir to the Tyrel family — a queen in the business world, commanding storms with a word.
Men lined up for a chance to speak to her. No one had ever dared to defy her like this… let alone humiliate her.
"Well, sweetheart, let's not jump to conclusions." Seth shrugged.
“Just a quick question: Where exactly were you last night?" he asked.
"Where I am is none of your damn business! You shameless jerk—"
She froze mid-rant as flashes of last night hit her. The nightclub. Whiskey. The haze before everything went dark. She’d knocked on his door herself.
She was the one who made the first move. A flicker of embarrassment rose to her surface.
"So?" he prompted.
"What do you want?" she hissed, averting her gaze with an awkward expression.
"You don't remember, do you?" Seth sighed.
"You were drugged." He paused. "How? Why? I don't care."
"You came to me. Begging. Pleading for me to rescue you."
"And you promised a reward: a night with the city's most beautiful woman."
"I didn't think it was you... until you took off your top... Amazing."
Seth winked, eyes straying to her clothed chest one last time.
“Stop it!” Rose muttered, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks.
“Even if—even if I came to you for help, that doesn’t mean you had the right to take advantage of me!”
Rose looked away, refusing to meet his eyes—clearly bluffing, guilt written all over her face.
Seth shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Hey, lady, even if it happened again", Seth eyed her body once more "I would have done the same thing, darling! Opportunity knocks but once."
"Just take the money and go," Rose said, not wanting to get further entangled. This was already far too embarrassing.
She shoved a stack of bills toward Seth.
Seth looked at the money with disdain. "What's this for?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Your silence! Not a word about this must ever leave your lips, much less this room! Do you understand?" She stared at Seth, her eyes narrowed to slits.
As the heir to the Tyrel family, she couldn't let a single word of this scandal leak out—not one.
“I think you’ve misunderstood me,” Seth sighed.
"I’m not the kind of man who squeezes women for cash over personal shit."
He didn’t know what gave Rose the wrong impression, but he owed her an explanation.
“The truth is—I’m rich. Probably richer than anyone you’ve ever met.”
“You? Rich?” Rose raised a brow, her gaze flickering to the plain, almost embarrassingly humble items beside his bed. For a second, she was convinced he was lying.
Then her instincts kicked in—no man would bluff this hard unless his pride was on the line.
Ah, male ego.
“I get it,” she exhaled. “We can be honest with each other.”
Rose pressed her fingers to her temple, choosing her words carefully so as not to bruise his ego.
“Look, I don’t judge people based on money. I just...” she hesitated, “I need to make sure you don’t tell anyone what happened between us. As the heir to the Tyrel family, I can’t afford even a whisper of scandal.”
Seth covered his face with a hand. She really thought he was some gold-digging pretty boy. After everything he’d accomplished, after holding power for so many years, he was now being bought off by a woman who looked ten years younger.
God, this was humiliating.
“Hey,” he said, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t want your money. Honestly. If I had to choose between cash and...” He paused, then smirked.
“If you're really that worried, how about you spend another night with me instead?”
His eyes locked onto hers, bold and unflinching, as he watched the disbelief flash across her face, followed by anger and a deepening flush. She was about to explode.
“Okay, okay, relax!” Seth laughed, stepping back quickly. “I was joking—just a joke!”
But the slap, the screaming, the storm he expected… never came.
Behind him was only silence—and the sound of strained, trembling breaths, like brittle branches shivering in the wind.
Seth spun around.
The woman who just moments ago was all charm and allure now lay collapsed on the bed, pale as a ghost. Her eyes were bloodshot, her neck veins bulging. She was gasping for air, each breath more desperate than the last.
Seth froze. "Ventricular Tachycardia…" he whispered, his eyes widening in alarm.
He quickly rushed to her side and, without a second thought, pulled down her top, revealing her chest.
It was indeed Ventricular Tachycardia, unmistakable in its gruesome display.
Before he could make a move, Rose slapped him across the face with such force that it echoed through the room, leaving a red welt blooming on his cheek.
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Chapter 206: Structural Weakness.
Alex's POV Alex returned to the executive layers the way a ghost returns to a house that’s been renovated in his absence, the shape is familiar, the corridors still curve the same way, the access points still breathe open when he approaches, but the furniture has moved and the air smells like other people’s decisions.He had not been here since before the war ended.Not truly.Back then the place had been frantic, reactive, command rooms blooming like infections across the administrative floors, people running on caffeine and threat projections, emergency authority being stamped onto anything that could carry ink, now it was different, quieter, smoother, the panic had fossilized into protocol, every hallway padded with procedure, every door protected by three layers of justification before you ever reached a lock.This was where wars went when they were finished.Not to peace.To paperwork.Alex didn’t go to his old office.He went lower.To the infrastructural decks, where budgets w
Chapter 205: What Noel Sees.
Noel's POV Noel had followed convoys before.Government ones with polished armor and predictable escorts, corporate ones wrapped in false branding and private security, underground ones that pretended to be waste management while hauling sealed lives in reinforced containers, he knew the rhythms, the feints, the habits of men who believed movement itself was secrecy.This convoy was different, they had no insignia, no visible escort, no routes that made sense.Three vehicles, matte gray, unmarked, not armored enough to be military, not civilian enough to be ignored, they left a distribution depot that had been condemned eight years ago, one of those urban corpses that cities keep around because tearing them down costs more than pretending they’re dead, the depot sat at the edge of a reclaimed district where glass towers rose out of what used to be tenements, where parks were layered over old slums like green apologies.Noel had been tracking a minor evolved intake lead when the movem
Chapter 204: The Aide’s Office.
Seth's POVThe summons did not arrive through command channels.It did not pass through Alex, it did not appear on his operational board, it did not carry the formatting of military priority or executive urgency, it came quietly, threaded into a system notification that had nothing to do with meetings, a maintenance acknowledgment, a routine authorization update, a single embedded line that didn’t blink or escalate or demand attention, it simply stated that the President’s aide would see him at sixteen hundred, location attached, attendance expected.Seth read it once, then again, then closed the display without responding, already feeling the shift it created in the air around him, the faint sense that something had stepped closer without moving, he had ended a war, dismantled a revolutionary army, been elevated to a position most people never even saw from the outside, and yet this message carried mor
Chapter 203: The Weight of Old Men.
Seth's POVThe decision to go to General Cane did not arrive like inspiration, it arrived like pressure, subtle, constant, the kind that did not hurt at first but slowly reshaped whatever it rested against, Seth had spent the night after the confrontation with Virek pacing rooms that were designed to keep people seated, reviewing structures that were meant to be trusted, watching feeds that only showed what they were allowed to show, and through all of it ran the same awareness, power without anchoring corrodes into spectacle, momentum without counterweight becomes noise, and if he intended to take a country apart without letting it collapse inward, he would need someone who had already watched empires pretend they were permanent.Cane was not part of the new machine.That was exactly why he mattered.Arranging the meeting required layers of misdirection that would have once amused Seth, logist
Chapter 202: White Rooms and Quiet Wars.
Seth's POVThe room Seth chose was not underground.That mattered.Most of the spaces he used now were buried beneath layers of reinforced earth and dead signal zones, rooms designed for secrecy, for containment, for things that were not meant to be found again, but after leaving Virek, after feeling steel fade back into skin and the echo of that man’s pulse still lingering in his palm, Seth did not want another bunker, he wanted height, glass, distance from the illusion that depth meant safety.The conference room sat near the top of a private government tower, not one of the public ones, not the kind tourists took pictures of, but one built for people who preferred the city to look small, its walls wide and curved, windows stretching from floor to ceiling, sunlight pouring in without asking permission.He stood near the glass when the summons went out.
Chapter 201: Two Architects.
Seth's POV The invitation arrived disguised as protocol.Not marked urgent, not flagged hostile, not even routed through any of the newly militarized channels that had begun shadowing Seth’s movements over the past weeks, it came the way institutional traps always came, polite, reasonable, wearing the language of necessity instead of threat, a request for strategic consultation from a senior oversight director whose name carried just enough historical weight to make refusal noticeable.Virek.Seth read it once, then again, not because he needed clarity, but because he wanted to appreciate the audacity, the assumption still threaded through the phrasing that this was a conversation between administrators, not adversaries, that the world was still made of offices instead of fault lines.He accepted without modification.The room they gave him was not a briefing chamber, not a council hall, not one of the sealed operational theaters buried beneath the capital, it was smaller, circular,
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