LOSER IS THE BILLIONAIRE HEIR

Abuse?

The Sterling Industries tower pierced the night sky like a crystalline spear, its surface alive with swirling magical energies that painted rainbow patterns across the glass. New Year's Eve had transformed the building's top floors into a glittering wonderland of supernatural excess. Floating chandeliers dripped liquid starlight while enchanted ice sculptures moved and danced of their own accord.

Marcus stepped through the main entrance, his simple black jeans and plain white shirt a stark contrast to the sea of designer gowns and tailored tuxedos surrounding him. Lamborghinis with phoenix-fire exhaust and Bentleys that hovered six inches off the ground lined the circular drive, their supernatural modifications gleaming under the mystical streetlights.

The security guards—two hulking werewolves in expensive suits—barely glanced at him as he walked past. These days, even the most powerful supernatural beings often masqueraded as ordinary humans.

Good, Marcus thought, surveying the opulent ballroom. The less attention, the better.

His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since leaving the hidden realm. The buffet table stretched along the far wall like an altar to culinary excess—lobster tails the size of small dragons, caviar that sparkled with actual diamonds, and fruits that glowed with inner light.

Marcus loaded his plate without ceremony, grabbed two crystal flutes of champagne that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent, and found a quiet corner to eat. The food was exceptional, though he barely tasted it.

"Look at that guy," a woman in a silver gown whispered loudly enough for half the room to hear. "Did he just walk in off the street?"

Her companion, a man with obviously enhanced supernatural features, snickered. "Probably some has-been trying to relive his glory days. Pathetic."

"I heard he's been wandering around the supernatural district like some kind of drifter," added another voice. "Someone should call security before he steals the silverware."

Marcus continued eating, unbothered by their commentary.

"Seriously, who let this nobody crash our celebration?" A young woman with vampire fangs clicked her tongue in disgust. "He looks like he bought his clothes at a thrift store."

If only they knew, Marcus mused, taking another sip of champagne. Though I suppose even gods can shop for bargains.

The whispers grew louder, more vicious.

"Is that ketchup on his shirt? At a Sterling Industries gala?"

"I bet he doesn't even have supernatural blood. Probably just some delusional human."

"Someone should throw him out before he embarrasses himself further."

Thomas Sterling materialized through the crowd like a predator scenting weakness. The head of Sterling family security stood six-foot-four with the build of someone who settled disputes with violence. His supernatural aura crackled with barely contained aggression.

"Excuse me," Thomas's voice cut through the party chatter like a blade. "Do you have an invitation to this event?"

Marcus looked up from his plate, chewing thoughtfully. "No."

The crowd around them went silent, sensing drama.

Thomas's jaw tightened. "Then I'm afraid you'll need to leave. This is a private function."

"I'm not invited," Marcus said calmly, setting down his champagne. "I'm Diana's fiancé. I came because of our family contract."

The silence stretched for exactly three seconds before the laughter erupted.

"Did he just say fiancé?" someone gasped between fits of giggling.

"Diana Sterling's fiancé? Oh my god, this is rich!"

"Lady, you hear that? This street rat thinks he's engaged to the most powerful woman in supernatural Manhattan!"

Thomas's face flushed red with anger and embarrassment. "You delusional piece of trash! Diana Sterling is the CEO of Sterling Industries. She's got more class in her pinky finger than you've got in your entire worthless existence!"

More laughter rippled through the gathering crowd.

"This is the best entertainment we've had all night!" a woman shrieked. "He actually believes it!"

"Someone get this on video. Diana's going to die laughing when she sees this fool."

"What's next? Is he going to claim he's the lost prince of some fairy kingdom?"

Marcus stood slowly, his movements fluid and controlled. "Take me to my fiancée."

The laughter grew even louder.

"Take him to Diana!" someone shouted mockingly. "Oh please, someone get Diana down here to meet her 'beloved'!"

"I'm sure she's been waiting her whole life for Prince Charming here!"

Thomas's supernatural energy flared, his eyes glowing with rage. "You worthless nobody! You think you can waltz in here and mock the Sterling family?"

Without warning, Thomas threw a punch enhanced with supernatural force that could have shattered concrete. The air itself seemed to crack from the impact.

Marcus caught the fist in his palm without even shifting his weight.

Thomas's eyes went wide as his enhanced strength met an immovable wall. He pulled back, stumbling, his face pale with shock.

That power, Marcus thought as another memory fragment pierced his consciousness. Standing before legions of supernatural warriors, his voice booming across battlefield dimensions, reality itself bending to his will as he led the charge against cosmic threats.

"Impossible," Thomas whispered.

"Security!" someone screamed. "Get security!"

Eight guards rushed in, their enchanted weapons glowing with deadly energy. Swords that could cut through dimensional barriers, staffs crackling with binding spells, nets woven with silver starlight.

Marcus moved.

What happened next defied comprehension. One moment the guards were charging with supernatural speed and magical weapons. The next, all eight were unconscious on the marble floor, their weapons scattered like toys.

No one had seen him move. No one had seen the strikes. It was as if time itself had skipped.

"What the hell..." Thomas backed away, his face white with terror.

Marcus dusted off his hands dismissively. "Is that really the best Sterling security has to offer? I've seen children with more fight in them."

The crowd stood frozen in absolute silence, their mockery replaced by raw fear.

"Pathetic," Marcus continued, his voice carrying casual contempt. "No wonder supernatural crime runs rampant in this city if these weaklings are supposed to be protecting it."

Who is this man? The thought echoed through every mind in the room.

More security poured in from the corridors, alerted by the commotion. Dozens of guards with advanced magical weapons, their faces grim with purpose.

Marcus sighed, cracking his knuckles. "More toys to break?"

"ENOUGH!"