Obsidian Heir

CHAPTER 6: PARASITE

‘That little parasite,’ she thought. ‘He thinks he can just move on and forget about me? He thinks he can replace me with some other woman? He's wrong. He's going to regret this. I'll make sure of it.’

Outwardly, she kept a cool facade as she spoke to her mother. "Don't worry, Mother. We have everything under control. After I attend the Prism Dragon Group's anniversary celebration with Bennett tomorrow, I'll make sure to find Zachary and teach him a lesson he won't soon forget."

"But I’m telling you, Elise! He was very different," Martha argued. "He was arrogant. And that Knowles woman... She treated him like he was some god. It was disturbing."

"It’s pathetic, That’s what it is," Elise countered, her voice smooth as silk. "Zachary was always a good dog. He probably found some lonely executive who likes a project. But a stray is still a stray, no matter who holds the leash."

After a few more assurances from her mother, she hung up and turned to Bennett, who was nursing a glass of scotch by the window, his eyes fixed on the city skyline.

"Zachary is alive," she said simply.

Bennett didn't flinch, but his grip on the glass tightened. "I heard. You and your mother were very loud.”

“So the blood bag has a protector now? Some woman from The Prism Dragon Group?"

"Hmn. Mother says she looked like she had a lot of power but couldn't really remember her name. But it doesn't matter," Elise said, walking over to wrap her arms around his waist. "After tomorrow, it won't matter if he has the Queen of England backing him. Once you sign that partnership with the new Chairman of the Prism Dragon Group, the Sterlings will be the law in Silverwood. Zachary will be a footnote. A bug you can crush under your boot."

Bennett turned, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. "My father already has the inside track. His project proposal is sitting on the top of the pile. All we need is the new Chairman’s signature at the anniversary gala. Once that’s done, we move from the third-tier to the second. We’ll be royalty, Elise."

He pulled her close, his eyes dark. "If the maggot shows up tomorrow, let him. I want him to watch. I want him to see me take the world while he stands in the corner with his new 'mummy.' It’ll be the best entertainment of the night."

***

Meanwhile, back at "Gems of the Orient," Mr. Vena was groveling before Seraphina, his face slick with sweat. "CEO Knowles, I can't express how sorry I am for the disrespect the Young Lord has endured. Please, allow me to offer the Celestial Harmony Crystal as a token of my sincere apology."

Seraphina regarded him with a cold, indifferent gaze. "The decision rests with the Young Lord."

Zachary, who had been observing the scene with detached amusement, nodded slowly. "I accept your apology."

Mr. Vena breathed a sigh of relief, practically collapsing with gratitude. 

He quickly retrieved the Celestial Harmony Crystal, carefully placing it in Zachary's hands.

Zachary didn't refuse the gift. He knew that refusing would only prolong the situation and further agitate Seraphina. 

He accepted the crystal with a polite nod, then turned to leave the store, Seraphina following closely behind.

Later that night, after they had returned to the villa, Zachary secluded himself in the master suite.

Zachary sat in the center of the cold marble floor, the Celestial Harmony Crystal clutched between his palms. 

The violet stone wasn't just glowing; it was vibrating, humming a low-frequency tune that resonated with the ring on his finger.

The heat in his veins was no longer a riot—it was a river. 

The crystal acted as a dam, catching the raw, violent energy of the Dragon Clan’s legacy and filtering it into his marrow.

Crack. Snap.

The sound of his own bones shifting echoed off the walls. 

The brittle, hollow feeling left by the leukemia donation was being incinerated. 

In its place, a new density was forming, a strength that felt less like muscle and more like forged iron. 

He felt the scars on his side fade, the skin knitting together with a perfection that defied human biology.

By the time the first light of dawn hit the glass walls, the crystal in his hands had crumbled into fine, grey ash.

Zachary stood up. He didn't feel the usual ache in his joints or the shortness of breath that had plagued him for months. 

He felt good.

More than good. Great even.

"Ms Knowles?" he called out.

The door glided open. Seraphina stood there, her eyes widening just a fraction as she took in the change in his posture. 

The sickly boy who had crawled out of a dog pit was gone.

Standing before her was a man with a sharp, defined jawline and shoulders that filled out his frame with a new, imposing breadth. 

His skin, once sallow and translucent, now had the healthy sheen of someone who had never known a day of illness. 

But it was his eyes that held the most change: the almond-grey irises were clear, deep, and held a terrifying intensity that they lacked before.

"The gala begins shortly, Young Lord," she said, her voice formal but tinged with a certain softness. "Your attire is ready. The world is waiting."

***

The air outside the Prism Dragon Group’s headquarters was a heavy cocktail of expensive exhaust fumes and cloying perfumes. 

A river of black town cars stretched back for blocks, each one vomiting out the city’s self-proclaimed royalty. Above them, the glass skyscraper glowed like a jagged shard of ice, cutting into the night sky.

Zachary stood at the foot of the marble steps, his presence a dark, still point in the middle of the frantic movement. The charcoal suit Seraphina had provided fit him with a level of detail he wasn't used to, the fabric moving with him like a second skin. 

He adjusted his silver cuffs, his gaze fixed on the gold-leafed double doors.

"Zachary?"

The voice was like a needle to the ear. 

He didn't have to turn to know who it was. 

Elise stood a few feet away, her mouth hanging open in a brief moment of genuine shock. 

She was draped in a gown of shimmering gold, but the sight of her didn't stir a single spark of the old warmth in his chest.

 It only made him feel a cold, hollow sense of disinterest.