Ex-Convict To Mysterious Power

Chapter 3

Cole walked into the luxurious mall beside Amanda like a man dragged to his own makeover. The workers at the entrance greeted her with warm smiles, a few stealing curious glances at him. Amanda flashed her card and kept walking.

“I need some clothes for him,” she told one of the attendants.

“I’ll get—” the lady began, but Amanda cut in politely.

“I’ll do it myself.”

The worker nodded and led them to the men's section.

Cole stood stiffly by the racks, watching Amanda sift through clothes like she was solving a complex puzzle. She held a shirt up, eyed him for a second, then shook her head and moved on.

Another shirt. Same verdict. Repeat.

Then came the screech.

“Oh. My. God!”

Cole didn’t need to turn. That voice could haunt a man in his dreams.

Tiffany.

Amanda’s younger cousin. The kind of girl who wouldn’t notice you unless your last name was Ferrari or your fingers jingled with black cards.

“The rapist is out of prison!” she announced like it was the evening news.

Heads turned immediately. A few shoppers outright stopped browsing to get a better look. Amanda gave a small, awkward smile.

“Hey, Tiffany. Been a while,” she said quickly, hoping to cut off the scene before it exploded.

Tiffany tightened her grip on the man beside her, all smugness and glittering pride. “Babe,” she said sweetly, “meet Cole. Ex-convict. Did three years for rape. Look at him—still pale from prison walls.”

She said it with a childlike innocence, but every word was dipped in venom.

Her boyfriend gave Cole a brief glance, then turned to Amanda—and his eyes lingered. Hard.

He’d seen pictures of her before, plenty of them. No one ever told him she was this breathtaking.

“Hi, Amanda,” he said smoothly, stepping forward and gently slipping his arm from Tiffany’s. His voice was low and full of practiced charm.

“I’m Derek. Derek Stone. CEO of the DGSGS Group. We just got awarded best subsidiary in New York last week.”

Tiffany was quick to jump in. “Not just New York—his company has branches in London, and we’re expanding to Indonesia soon,” she said proudly, eyes darting to Cole. “Babe, didn’t you say we’d be moving there? We’re already learning the language—”

“Tiffany,” Derek cut in, gentle but firm. His voice dropped just enough to let her know he wasn’t impressed.

“This is my business card.” Derek pulled a sleek black card from his wallet and handed it to Amanda. “Personally, I think you deserve a man who treats you like the queen you are. Someone who can actually match your potential.”

Tiffany immediately looped her arm tighter around his. “It’s karma, babe,” she said, forcing a smile. “She turned down all the good men for a guy who turned out to be a rapist.”

“There’s always a second chance, though,” Derek said, flashing a grin. “Amanda, if you ever need anything—company matters or otherwise—just call me. I’ll come running.”

Tiffany’s eyes went red. How this bitch dared to steal her spotlight!

“Security!” she shrieked, spinning to the nearest staff like she was in a K-drama. “Throw this rapist out!”

Her voice cut through the store like a whip. Heads turned. Cameras came out. Some customers in the background were already adjusting their phone angles—this was content.

“Stop playing the victim! You dragged a rapist in here—who the hell’s supposed to keep us safe now?!” Tiffany hissed, practically foaming.

“Get this man out!” she snapped at a clerk who had scurried over.

“He’s a rapist!” she repeated to anyone within earshot, which, by now, was nearly the whole store.

"Oh God, I don’t wanna be in the same store as a fucking rapist! Can someone kick them out already?"

"Yeah! Anyone hanging out with a rapist has to be trash too!"

Disgusted stares circled Cole and Amanda like vultures. A surge of fury shot through Cole’s chest. Three years ago, no one would’ve dared speak to Amanda like this—let alone look at her like she was something filthy stuck to the bottom of their shoe.

Some things had really changed.

“Please go,” one of the staff said to Cole—not politely, despite the “please” in the sentence.

“You don’t have the right to tell me to leave,” Cole replied, throwing a frosty look at the clerk. “I need to see the manager.”

Tiffany burst into laughter like someone had tickled her with a feather.

“Amanda, your husband’s actually gone insane!” She clutched her stomach like she couldn’t take it. “What did they feed you in prison, Cole? Is that what’s frying your brain now?”

She flipped her hair back with full drama. “You think a guy like you can walk into a place like this and ask to see the manager?”

She tilted her head, exaggerated like she was in a soap opera. “Or what? You think you matter now? After rotting for years in jail?”

Amanda started forward, furious but Cole calmly reached for her hand.

His touch wasn’t forceful. Just… steady. His eyes said everything. ‘I’ve got this’.

Then he turned that condescending look straight on Tiffany—cold, ruthless, like he was watching a dying animal struggling for breath. There was even a hint of pity in his eyes, the kind that didn’t know it had no right to be there.

What the hell?!

Why the fuck was he looking at her like that?!

Shouldn’t he be dragging that bitch Amanda out of here and getting lost?

The more Tiffany thought about it, the more it burned.

“Throw him out now before he does something worse!” Tiffany shrieked, voice rising in panic. “Why are you all just standing there?!”

But none of the staff moved.

Then came the sound of shoes against the floor. Crisp, fast-paced steps heading their way.

The manager of the store had arrived.

He looked over the gathering crowd with a scowl, then turned sharply to Cole.

“Who is making all this noise?”