2025-04-11 18:17:40The moment Mr. Tusk gave the order, the security guards moved.
Jackson didn’t flinch.
Instead, he turned to Mr. Tusk, eyes calm but sharp. “And who exactly are you to order my arrest?”
The audacity.
The lounge went silent. Even the air seemed to pause.
The girls in the reception area exchanged quick glances, their expressions shifting from contempt to shock.
He was being accused of theft. At Evergreen Lounge. And yet—he had the nerve to stand there, unbothered, challenging one of the wealthiest regulars?
Who was this guy?
Mr. Tusk’s gaze darkened. “Are you questioning me?”
Jackson’s lips twitched. Not quite a smirk, but close.
“I don’t recall this lounge being owned by a ‘Mr. Tusk.’ So, yes. I am questioning you.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Even Tricia, the lead receptionist, hesitated.
She had already dismissed Jackson as a nobody—but now, his confidence was making her second-guess.
Mr. Tusk’s date—his ‘exotic’ girlfriend, as she clearly wanted to be perceived—let out an amused laugh, breaking the tension. She clutched onto his arm, looking up at him with mock concern.
“Baby, I thought you said Evergreen Lounge was the most luxurious and exclusive place in Sky Tower.” She glanced at Jackson, nose scrunching. “If that’s true, then… why is someone like him here?”
Jackson had met people like her before. The kind who only valued others based on who they knew and how much they had.
It wasn’t new. It wasn’t surprising.
But it was always disgusting.
Tricia stepped forward, all too eager to fix the ‘situation.’
“Apologies, Mr. Tusk,” she said, voice smooth with practiced customer service. “This won’t take long. I’ll have him removed immediately.”
Mr. Tusk barely spared her a glance. “See that you do. I have foreign guests coming soon, and I don’t want him lurking around. Even our staff are better dressed than this.”
His girlfriend giggled, clearly pleased. “And let’s not forget your relationship with Mr. Webb.”
Carl Webb. The owner of Evergreen Lounge.
Jackson caught the flicker of pride in Mr. Tusk’s expression.
So that was his real power here.
Not wealth. Not status.
Just connections.
Jackson exhaled slowly. He had been here less than an hour, and already, people like Tusk were revealing themselves.
Tricia turned to Jackson, her patience wearing thin. “Sir, I’m asking you one last time—leave. Or security will remove you.”
Jackson met her gaze. Then, without a word, he pulled out his phone.
Tricia’s jaw tensed. “What are you doing?”
“I’m making a call.”
The audacity.
The exotic girlfriend let out another laugh, louder this time. “Who on earth could you possibly call?” She turned to the receptionists. “Do you hear this? He actually thinks he has connections.”
Mr. Tusk smirked, amused. “Alright. Let’s see it then.”
Jackson didn’t respond. He just dialed the number.
Mr. Copper.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
No answer.
Jackson frowned slightly and tried again.
Still no answer.
Tricia folded her arms, clearly impatient.
Mr. Tusk and his girlfriend exchanged knowing glances before bursting into laughter.
“This is embarrassing,” the woman giggled. “Baby, please, show him what real connections look like.”
Mr. Tusk played along, pretending to hesitate. “I don’t know… should I?”
The pressure worked. She kept pushing, and he gave in.
With an exaggerated sigh, he pulled out his own phone. “Fine. Since you insist…”
Jackson watched, curious.
Who was he calling?
“Carl Webb,” Tusk announced. “The man who actually owns this place.”
But his girlfriend wasn’t impressed.
She pouted, shaking her head. “That’s too easy. If you really want to prove a point, you should call Carl Webb’s boss.”
Mr. Tusk froze.
The smirk on his face stiffened for half a second before he quickly recovered.
Jerry Haas.
The real power behind Sky Tower.
Mr. Tusk didn’t have Jerry Haas’ number.
The closest they had ever been was a handshake at the grand opening of Evergreen Lounge.
And even then—Jerry hadn’t even been paying attention.
Still, the pressure was on.
His girlfriend was watching, waiting, expecting him to prove himself.
So he faked confidence.
With a lazy chuckle, he said, “Calling Mr. Haas over something so small? That’s beneath him. He’s an important man—he wouldn’t waste his time on this.”
His girlfriend, however, wasn’t letting it go.
She tilted her head, unimpressed. “Then try. Call him now.”
The words hit like a challenge.
Now, everyone was watching.
Tricia looked nervous. The other receptionists were struggling to hide their curiosity.
Jackson… simply waited.
Mr. Tusk hesitated for a fraction of a second before pressing a few buttons on his phone. Then, with all the arrogance he could muster, he held it up to his ear.
The call rang once.
Twice.
Then—busy tone.
His heart pounded.
He already knew why it was busy.
Jerry Haas didn’t answer calls from unknown numbers.
Mr. Tusk’s number was unknown.
And just like that, his entire act crumbled.
But he wasn’t about to admit it.
He lowered his phone with a fake amused chuckle. “Ah. Must be the network.”
His girlfriend frowned. “Try again.”
Tusk wiped his palms on his trousers, forcing a smile. “No need for that. I’ll just call Carl Webb instead.”
Before he could dial, a low chuckle came from beside him.
Jackson.
The sound wasn’t loud, but in that moment—it felt deafening.
Tusk snapped his head toward him.
Jackson wasn’t mocking him outright.
He was just smiling.
And somehow—that was worse.
Tusk’s face burned.
He felt exposed, humiliated, played.
“What’s so funny?” he snapped.
Jackson simply shook his head, tucking his phone back into his pocket.
He didn’t even have to answer.
The damage was done.
Fuming, Tusk dialed Carl Webb’s number.
This time, the call was picked up immediately.
Within minutes, Carl Webb himself appeared at the scene, his sharp eyes scanning the room.
At the same time—Jackson’s phone buzzed.
He answered calmly.
“Mr. Copper.”
The older man’s voice came through instantly, sounding apologetic.
“Jackson, my deepest apologies. I missed your calls—I was in the shower.”
Jackson’s voice remained neutral. “It’s fine.”
“What’s going on?”
Jackson glanced at the scene in front of him.
Then, casually, he said:
“I’m at Evergreen Lounge. Some people here seem to think I don’t belong.”
Silence.
Then—Mr. Copper’s tone shifted.
Sharp. Cold.
“Give me two minutes. I’m calling Jerry.”
Jackson smiled.
This night was about to get very interesting.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 440: He Has Returned!
"It's nothing," Ella said, her voice too light, too airy for the weight in the room. "Just... a weird dream I had. About fancy parties and babies. Forget I said anything."She turned her back, her movements jerky as she rescued the charring toast, scraping the blackened edges into the sink with a sound like grating bones. She could feel Irene's gaze on her, a laser of terrified love, boring into her shoulder blades."Ella..." Irene began again, her voice trembling with the effort of holding back the flood."I said it's nothing, Mom!" The words came out sharper than Ella intended, a lash of frustration born of fear. She winced at her own tone, but didn't turn around. "The toast is ruined. I'll make more."The next few minutes passed in a stilted, horrible parody of a normal morning. They ate in a silence thick enough to choke on. Irene picked at her eggs, her eyes constantly flicking to Ella's face, searching for cracks. Ella kept her gaze fixed on her plate, the food tasting like ash
Chapter 439: Victor Vaughan's Return!
The outer space where forgotten things pooled and echoes sounded like roars, began to take shape. It was a bridge woven from silence and regret, spanning the chasm between what was and what might have been.Here, the air didn’t move. It crystallized, forming intricate, despairing fractals of frost in the void. In the center of this non-place, Victor Vaughan took form. And then, with the grace of a maestro acknowledging a silent audience, he took a slow, deep bow.The silence that followed was not empty. It was a listening silence.“Do not fail this time.”The Voice did not come from anywhere. It was the vacuum, the cold certainty at the heart of the entropy Victor worshipped. It was neither male nor female, but ancient, patient, and utterly devoid of mercy.Victor did not straighten abruptly. He rose with deliberate reverence, as if lifting a great weight. “I will not disappoint,” he said, his own voice a smooth, cultured contrast to the formless chill of the Voice. It held a fervent,
Chapter 438: The Convergence Born!
Jackson’s consciousness, unmoored from his physical shell, was a compass needle spun free. In the vast, silent theatre of his fugue, there was no grey fog, only a brilliant, straining focus. And at the heart of that focus was a pull that led him straight to Ella who was in her small bedroom above the quiet mill.And just as though, she had sensed the presence of someone in her room, Ella jolted upright in bed. The room was dark, the digital clock reading 3:17 a.m. And just when she was trying to understand the reason behind the strange feeling that had enveloped her room, she saw Jackson standing in the center of the room. He was translucent, shimmering like a mirage, but his features were sharp. He looked gaunt, haunted, but his eyes burned with a recognition that stole her breath. She knew that face. She’d seen it in it severally in the news and even recently when she was digging into the Hart's archives.However, the man she was looking t right now, was looking at her as if she
Chapter 437: In Less Than A Week!
Dr. Evans arrived swiftly, his face a mask of professional intrigue as he reviewed the neural scans and vitals. After several minutes of silent analysis, he turned to Bella, who stood rigidly by the wall, arms wrapped around herself.“He’s conscious,” Dr. Evans said, his voice low with a kind of awe. “But it’s a self-induced fugue state. His higher brain functions are hyper-focused, lit up like a city at night, but they’ve completely disengaged from his motor cortex and somatic senses. It’s a deliberate, profound inward focus. I’ve never seen anything like it.”Before Bella could process this, the door swung open.Ruth rushed in, her face pale and streaked with tears she’d clearly been shedding since Bella’s frantic, emotional phone call with Gilbert following close behind.“Jackson!” Ruth gasped, rushing to the bedside. She reached for his still hand, but hesitated, seeing his closed eyes. She looked frantically from her son to Bella. “What happened? Bella, you said he was awake!”“H
Chapter 436: Jackson, can you hear me?!
“Why me?” Jackson asked, his dream-voice choked with a grief that was both old and new. “Why has this always been my fight?”Philip’s eyes, already fading into the consuming grey, held a deep and ancient sorrow. “Because you were there when the breach first opened, when you stood against Victor. You didn’t just fight him, son. You wounded him. Your spirit, your will, became a shard embedded in his essence. A flaw in his perfect, frozen design. Your very existence is an affront to him.”The last of the porch was gone. Philip was now only a faint silhouette of light, but his words were iron.“That’s why he will come for her, the Convergence-Born. To use her power as the final key to his global winter. But he will come for you first. Not just to remove an obstacle, but to erase the proof that he can be hurt. You are the man who once stood in his way. You are the living memory of his failure. To achieve his ‘Gilded Frost,’ he must first extinguish your spark.”The finality of it settled o
Chapter 435: The Dreamscape!
Jackson’s consciousness drifted in a formless grey fog space of his coma as sounds from the hospital became distorted echoes.Suddenly, the fog before him shimmered like a heat haze. It didn’t part so much as reconfigured, pixels of memory assembling with painful, perfect clarity. The grey bled into the rich grain of weathered cedar planks and the sterile silence shattered into the chorus of a summer afternoon accompanied by a sweet scent of pipe tobacco.“You’ve lingered here long enough, son.”Philip’s voice was both gentle and urgent, a tone Jackson remembered from boyhood scraped knees and, later, from the first terrifying Watcher briefings. It brooked no argument, yet was woven through with an undeniable love.Jackson tried to speak, to ask the thousand questions that had dissolved in the fog. All that emerged was a wave of feeling—overwhelming grief for time lost, confusion at this impossible place, and a childlike relief so potent it was agony.“The anchor’s frayed,” Philip co
You may also like
My Aloof Sisters Asked for My Forgiveness
Autumn Rain242.4K viewsGod of War, Returned For His Wife
DoAj43280.0K viewsThe Return Of The God of War
Esther Writes374.8K viewsThe Unexpected Heir
Estherace86.0K viewsThe Truculent Davien Ghys
Zuxian570 viewsThe Loser Is the War Commander
Allahamdullilah books5.0K viewsRise Of The Billionaire Son-in-law
Dark Knight 602 viewsTHE FORGOTTEN HEIR
OZOMATA458 views