Rebirth of the Fallen Heir : Shadow of Revenge

Chapter 8 : The Crimson Gala

The ballroom of the Grand Hyatt was a shark tank, and tonight, Eryndra Maheswara was the one holding the spear. The air was thick with the scent of lilies, expensive cologne, and the palpable dread of men who realized their empires were built on sand.

"Look at them, Eryndra," Livia whispered, her arm looped firmly through his. She wore a dress of shimmering silver that looked like liquid moonlight, clinging to every curve. "They’re staring at us like we’re the ones who brought the plague, not the cure."

"Let them stare," Eryndra replied, adjusting his cufflinks. his gaze swept the room until it landed on the head table. "Hendra looks like he’s already rehearsing my eulogy."

"He’s old school, Ery. He thinks a loud voice and a few frozen accounts can stop a tidal wave," Livia said, her lips brushing his ear. "He doesn't realize the water is already over his head."

"Is your father ready?"

"The Arundhati reserves are positioned. The moment you drop the hammer, we start the buyback of the Maheswara debt Hendra tried to weaponize. By midnight, your family will own more of this city than they did before the '98 crash."

Eryndra squeezed her hand. "You’re a dangerous woman, Livia."

"And you're a butcher who finally learned how to use a knife. Now, go. Make them bleed."

Eryndra stepped away from her, the crowd parting like the Red Sea as he walked toward the stage. At the center table, Hendra Daneswara sat like a king on a crumbling throne, flanked by a dozen lawyers and the remaining board members of the Port Authority.

"Eryndra," Hendra boomed, not bothering to stand. "I’m surprised you had the nerve to show up. I thought you’d be at the bank, begging for a loan to keep the lights on in your father’s office."

"I don't need a loan, Hendra," Eryndra said, stepping up to the microphone. The room went deathly silent. "I’m here to offer you a graceful exit. Though, knowing your family’s track record, I doubt you’ll take it."

Hendra laughed, a dry, grating sound. "You’re a child. You think a few scandals and a police report on Raka can take me down? I’ve survived three changes in government. You’re just a temporary glitch."

"Is that what I am?" Eryndra tapped a button on his tablet, and the massive holographic display behind him flickered to life. "Then let’s talk about 'Black Sands.' It’s a lovely name for a maritime insurance shell company, wouldn't you agree?"

Hendra’s face didn't change, but his grip on his wine glass tightened until his knuckles turned white. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

"Of course not," Eryndra continued, his voice calm, echoing through the ballroom. "Which is why it’s so strange that the Nexus engine—the one you tried so hard to steal—found thirty-two million dollars in kickbacks funneled from the Port Merger project into Black Sands. All authorized by your personal digital signature, Hendra. Not Raka’s. Yours."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. The Minister of Transportation, seated three seats down, leaned away from Hendra as if the man were radioactive.

"That’s a fabrication!" one of Hendra’s lawyers shouted. "That data is unverified!"

"It’s verified by the Arundhati Group’s internal audit team," Livia’s voice rang out from the floor, sharp and clear. She stood there, a vision of absolute confidence. "And it’s already been submitted to the Anti-Corruption Commission. Check your phones, gentlemen. The warrants for the Daneswara Group’s server seizure were signed ten minutes ago."

Hendra finally stood up, his face a mottled shade of red. "You... you think this is a game? You’re destroying the economy for a vendetta!"

"I’m cleaning the house, Hendra," Eryndra said, looking him dead in the eye. "As of this moment, the board has voted to strip the Daneswara family of all seats in the Port Authority. You’re not just out of the merger. You’re out of the industry."

The room erupted. Reporters surged forward, cameras flashing. Eryndra stepped off the stage, ignoring the chaos, his eyes searching for Livia. He saw her near the back exit, giving him a small, triumphant nod before she slipped toward the hallway.

He caught up to her in the secluded corridor leading to the private suites. The noise of the gala was a distant hum here.

"You did it," Livia said, her back against the door of a darkened conference room. She looked breathless, her eyes dark with a mixture of victory and something far more primal. "You actually killed the giant."

"We killed him," Eryndra corrected, closing the distance between them. He pinned her against the door, his hands finding her waist. "I couldn't have done it without the Arundhati fire."

"Then show me how much you appreciate the heat," she whispered, her hands sliding into his hair, pulling him down.

The kiss was frantic, fueled by the adrenaline of the last hour. It wasn't the measured, strategic affection they showed the world. It was raw. Eryndra’s hands moved with a possessive urgency, pulling her silver dress up until his palms met the velvet skin of her thighs.

"Eryndra... right here?" she gasped, her legs wrapping around his waist as he lifted her.

"The world is ending for the Daneswaras," he rasped against her throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin above her collarbone. "I want to feel alive while they burn."

He pushed the door open, the room a blur of mahogany and shadows. He laid her across the large conference table, the cool surface a sharp contrast to the heat radiating between them. He didn't waste time. The clothes were a nuisance, discarded with a focused energy. When he entered her, Livia let out a sharp, jagged cry that was lost in the silence of the room.

"You're mine," he groaned, his eyes locked on hers. "Everything we took tonight... it’s all for this."

"I don't care about the money," Livia panted, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her back arching as he moved within her with a rhythmic, demanding force. "I want the man who took it. I want you, Eryndra."

They moved together in a desperate, beautiful friction, the power struggle of the boardroom replaced by a different kind of dominance. In the dark, under the flickering light of the city through the blinds, they weren't icons or heirs. They were just two people who had cheated death and intended to live every second of the aftermath.

*

An hour later, the sweat had cooled on their skin. Eryndra was buttoning his shirt, looking at his reflection in the glass. He felt invincible.

"I should go back out," Livia said, adjusting her dress and smoothing her hair. "My father will be looking for me to finalize the press release. You should stay here for a few minutes. Let the reporters focus on Hendra’s meltdown before you make your 'triumphant' exit."

"Livia," Eryndra called out as she reached the door.

She turned, a soft smile on her face. "Yes?"

"Be careful. Hendra is down, but a cornered animal is still dangerous."

"I’m an Arundhati, Ery. We don't get bitten. We bite back."

She blew him a kiss and vanished into the hallway.

Eryndra sat on the edge of the table, exhaling a long breath. He checked his phone. The stock prices were exactly where he wanted them. The Maheswara name was restored. He had won.

Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen.

He felt a strange, nagging tug in his gut. It was the same feeling he’d had in his past life, seconds before the car hit him. A sense of something being... wrong.

He stood up and walked into the hallway. "Livia?"

The corridor was empty. He walked toward the main ballroom, but the gala was already thinning out. He didn't see her silver dress anywhere. He pulled out his phone and dialed her number.

It rang. Once. Twice. Then it cut to a muffled, scraping sound.

"Livia? Livia, where are you?"

No answer. Only the sound of heavy breathing on the other end, followed by the call disconnecting.

Eryndra’s blood turned to ice. He began to run. He headed toward the private valet entrance, his mind racing through every possibility. He turned the corner into the service hallway near the kitchens—a shortcut Livia often took.

He stopped.

There, lying on the polished tile floor, was her phone. The screen was shattered, the light flickering weakly. Next to it was a single, dark drop of blood, stark against the white marble.

"No," Eryndra whispered, his heart hammering against his ribs. "No, no, no."

His phone vibrated in his hand. It was an incoming video call from an unknown number.

He swiped to answer.

The screen flickered to life, showing a dimly lit, concrete room. Livia was there. She was tied to a wooden chair, a strip of heavy duct tape across her mouth. Her eyes were wide, filled with a terror he had never seen in her. Behind her, a digital timer was mounted on the wall, glowing red.

09:59... 09:58...

"Hey there, Ery," a voice laughed from off-camera. It was a voice he knew—a voice that sounded like it had been shredded by glass and soaked in cheap liquor.

Raka.

Raka stepped into the frame, looking like a man who had completely lost his mind. His suit was torn, his eyes bloodshot and bulging. He held a jagged piece of glass in one hand and his phone in the other.

"Did you enjoy the party, Ery?" Raka sneered, leaning down to stroke the glass against Livia’s cheek. She flinched, a muffled sob escaping her throat. "You thought you could just take everything? My money? My name? My future?"

"Raka, listen to me," Eryndra said, his voice trembling with a deadly, quiet rage. "If you touch her, I will spend every second of my life making sure you suffer. Let her go, and we can talk."

"Talk? We’re done talking, 'King'!" Raka screamed at the camera. "You wanted to play for blood? Well, look at the clock, Eryndra! You have ten minutes to find us before this whole place goes up. I didn't just hire a cleaner this time. I bought enough C4 to level a city block."

"Where are you?" Eryndra roared.

"I’m in the one place you’ll never look," Raka grinned, a sick, twisted expression. "The basement of the Maheswara Plaza. Where it all started. Where you were supposed to die the first time."

Raka leaned in close to the camera, his breath visible in the cold air of the basement.

"Hurry up, Eryndra. I’d hate for the Ice Queen to melt before you get here."

The screen went black.

Eryndra stood in the empty hallway, the silence of the Hyatt suddenly feeling like a tomb. He looked at the shattered phone on the floor, then at the time.

9 minutes, 12 seconds.

"I’m coming for you," he whispered to the shadows. "And God help anyone who gets in my way."