Rewriting My Billions: Boss of the Hidden realm

Chapter 3: Bloodstains Are Not Tax Deductible

Gideon stopped walking. He held up his sleeve, inspecting a tiny, almost invisible speck of dust on his oversized trench coat. He let out a dramatic sigh. 

"You said I get a corporate expense account," the vampire muttered, brushing at the fabric. "Does that cover dry cleaning? Because if I have to throw humans into dumpsters, my wardrobe is going to suffer.”

I stopped and looked back at him. My new Chief of Security, a creature that had probably survived the Black Plague, was pouting over a dirty sleeve. 

"Gideon," I said flatly. "You are wearing a thrift-store coat that smells like wet dog. But yes, once the company is officially incorporated, uniform maintenance is a business expense."

His silver eyes lit up. "What about blood?"

"What about it?"

"If a hostile entity ruins my shirt with their blood, is the replacement tax deductible?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "No, Gideon. Bloodstains are not tax deductible. The IRS tends to frown on murder. We are a clean, legitimate enterprise."

"Legitimate," Gideon repeated, testing the word on his tongue. He looked back at the three thugs currently snoring in a pile of garbage. "Right. Clean. I can do clean. Mostly."

"Come on," I chuckled, turning back toward the street. "Let's get out of here before they wake up."

We didn't take three steps before a pair of blinding LED headlights flooded the narrow alleyway. 

A sleek, black Mercedes S-Class pulled up, blocking the only exit. The tires splashed through the puddles, coming to a smooth, silent halt. The engine purred like a caged tiger. 

I stopped. Gideon stepped up beside me, his posture instantly shifting from "annoyed accountant" to "apex predator." The air around him seemed to drop ten degrees. 

The back door of the Mercedes popped open. A man stepped out, holding a black umbrella to block the light drizzle. 

He was wearing a custom-tailored navy suit that cost more than my entire apartment building. His shoes were polished to a mirror shine. He had perfectly styled blond hair and a smug, arrogant smile that made my stomach churn. 

Richard Sterling. 

The heir to the Sterling Group. The man who would go on to steal my first company in my past life. The man whose father killed my parents. 

"Well, well," Richard said, his voice dripping with condescension as he casually closed his umbrella. "It seems my employees are taking a nap on the job."

He looked past me, his eyes landing on the three unconscious thugs in the dirt. Then, he looked at me. His gaze swept over my cheap jeans and scuffed sneakers, dismissing me instantly as trash. 

"You," Richard snapped, snapping his fingers at me like I was a dog. "Skinny kid. What happened to my men?"

My jaw tightened. Ten years of hatred boiled up in the back of my throat. In my past life, I spent years trying to impress this guy before realizing he was a snake. 

I took a step forward, my fists clenching. 

Gideon let out a low, vibrating growl from deep in his chest. "Say the word, Boss. I’ll make him fit inside his own glove compartment."

*DING!*

The System screen exploded in front of my face, flashing a bright, angry red. 

[WARNING: Karma Debt Active.]

[Target: Richard Sterling. Status: Civilian / Competitor.]

[System Directive: You cannot let your Vampire eat the CEO's son. Unprovoked murder will result in a 100% Karma Penalty. Assets will be frozen.]

[Quest Updated: Outsmart him. Humiliate him. Do it legally.]

I stared at the red warning text. The anger in my chest slowly dissolved, replaced by a cold, calculating calm. 

The System was right. Killing Richard now was the easy way out. It was a thug's move. I wasn't a thug anymore. I was a tycoon. I was going to take everything he loved, and I was going to do it with a smile on my face. 

I held up a hand, stopping Gideon. "Down, boy. I've got this."

I shoved my hands into my pockets, put on my best, most arrogant billionaire smirk, and walked right up to the front bumper of the Mercedes. 

"Your men tripped, Richard," I said casually, using his first name to disrespect him. "The pavement around here is really uneven. You should tell the city to fix it."

Richard’s smug smile vanished. His eyes narrowed. He clearly wasn't used to poor people in alleyways talking back to him. 

"Do you know who I am, you little rat?" Richard hissed, stepping closer. "I am Richard Sterling. I own this block. I am about to bulldoze this entire pathetic slum to build a luxury mall. Now, tell me who knocked out my collectors, or I'll have my driver break your jaw."

The driver’s side door opened. A massive guy in a suit stepped out, cracking his knuckles. 

Behind me, Gideon sighed. "Is the driver tax deductible?"

"No," I replied over my shoulder. 

I turned my attention back to Richard. I looked at the floating blue stat box hovering over his perfectly styled hair. 

[Target: Richard Sterling]

[Business IQ: C-Tier]

[Hidden Flaw: Over-leveraged. He secretly borrowed $5 Million from his father's company to buy this slum, but he hasn't secured the zoning permits yet.]

My grin widened. It was almost too easy. 

"You don't own this block, Richard," I said smoothly, leaning against the hood of his precious Mercedes. "You just hold the preliminary deeds. And you're sweating because you used your daddy's money to buy them, but the city council denied your commercial zoning permits yesterday."

Richard froze. The color drained from his face. "How... how do you know that?"

"I know that if you don't start construction by next month, you default on the loan," I continued, my voice low and sharp. "Daddy finds out you're a failure. You lose your inheritance. You're standing in a puddle, Richard, pretending it's an ocean."

He stared at me, his mouth opening and closing like a suffocating fish. The arrogant prince of the city was completely paralyzed by a broke college kid in a dirty alley. 

I pushed myself off his car and stepped right into his personal space, looking down at him. 

"Now," I whispered. "Let's talk about my new office."