2025-04-11 18:18:11As Mr. Webb entered, a wave of submission swept through the lounge. Every head bowed. Employees straightened their backs, hostesses folded their hands, and the music lowered as if the walls themselves knew better than to offend him.
Carl Webb owned this place. Evergreen Lounge was his kingdom, and in his eyes, only the worthy deserved to be in his presence. His gaze was sharp, his stance unwavering—a man accustomed to power, to having the world bend to his will.
Raymond’s girlfriend was enthralled.
This was the kind of power she craved—the command, the respect, the fear. But a part of her wished this was Jerry Haas instead. If Carl Webb commanded this level of submission, she could only imagine what it would be like when Jerry walked into a room.
Carl walked up to Raymond, greeting him with a firm handshake, the kind exchanged between men who knew their places in the hierarchy. But his eyes barely lingered before shifting to the unwelcome presence standing nearby.
Jackson.
Carl’s face darkened.
How had this nobody even made it past the door?
Tricia and the other hostesses stiffened. They knew Carl’s type—men who saw themselves as kings, who despised anything that reminded them of peasants and paupers. Jackson was a stain on the room, a mockery of everything Evergreen Lounge represented.
It was a shame they had let him in at all.
Carl didn’t hesitate.
He closed the distance between himself and Jackson, scanning him from head to toe as if assessing a cockroach on his pristine floor.
Then—a slap.
The second slap of the night.
Jackson’s head snapped to the side, the sharp sting echoing in the suffocating silence of the room.
A barrage of insults followed.
"Miserable fool. Polluting my establishment with your presence."
"You should be licking the floor beneath my feet."
"Who gave you the audacity to confront a VIP? To even breathe the same air as my esteemed guests?"
Carl’s voice dripped with disgust, his words slicing through the room like a blade.
Raymond’s girlfriend was ecstatic.
She laughed, clapped, practically jumped with excitement. This was power. Raw, unfiltered dominance. She loved every second of it. But she couldn't help but imagine—what if it was Jerry instead?
Jackson held his cheek but didn’t flinch.
He simply smiled.
He had done nothing wrong. His entire life, he had asked for just one thing—to be treated like a human being. Yet men like Tyler, Linda, Jonah, Raymond, and Carl always found ways to remind him that, in their eyes, he was nothing.
He swallowed the pain.
He said nothing.
He would wait for Jerry Haas to arrive and finish what he came for.
But Carl wasn’t done yet.
He saw the way Raymond’s girlfriend was looking at him—like a god. And it fueled his pride.
Why stop now?
"Crawl," Carl commanded, his voice thick with arrogance.
The room stilled.
Carl smirked, turning to the exotic woman who was practically wrapped around his arm now.
"Apologize to the lady," he ordered Jackson. "On your knees."
The woman beamed.
This? This was a real man. Someone who could demand submission and get it. She held onto Carl’s arm, forgetting Raymond entirely, waiting for the moment Jackson would bow before her.
But Jackson didn’t move.
He didn’t even blink.
He simply scoffed.
Carl’s smirk disappeared.
This wasn’t just defiance—it was an insult.
His face twisted with rage. "Get him on the ground," he barked at the security team.
Immediately, the head of security and his men seized Jackson, their grips tight and unforgiving. They were just about to force him down when—
DING.
The elevator opened.
And everything stopped.
The music cut out. Conversations died mid-sentence. Glasses were placed down carefully.
A collective chill ran through the room.
Carl’s heart skipped.
He already knew.
Only one man could command this kind of silence.
Jerry Haas.
Jerry rushed out of the elevator, which was unusual, as he always walked majestically. His move this time could only mean one thing to everyone who saw him—there was trouble.
Jerry Haas is the head of management at Sky Tower; he was two hundred million dollars shy from a billionaire. He was powerful and highly connected, especially since everyone knows he worked for the subordinate of the owner of Sky Tower.
Also, he was highly respected by everyone.
Carl’s face tightened. He quickly signaled the security to keep things quiet. If Mr. Haas saw this mess, he’d be humiliated. Worse—he could lose everything.
The woman’s grip on Carl loosened.
Her eyes widened as she adjusted herself, hoping to look as irresistible as possible. This was her moment.
But Jerry wasn’t looking at her.
He wasn’t looking at Carl.
He was looking at Jackson.
Then, to the horror of everyone in the room—
He bowed.
A full 90-degree bow.
"Mr. Hart, I am deeply sorry for my lateness. Please forgive your humble servant!"
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