Ring of Power: The Billionaire's Secret

7 - The Confrontation

For a split second, her face went blank. Like her brain had short-circuited trying to process what she was seeing.

Then recognition hit. Her expression shifted. Surprise. Confusion. Then something cold and calculating.

She grabbed Derek's arm. Whispered something in his ear.

Derek's head whipped around. His eyes found Jake. His face twisted into something ugly.

"Oh, this is perfect," Derek said. Loud enough that people nearby turned to look. "Look who decided to show up. Maya's little charity project."

Jake had just stepped out of Sora's car. She'd dropped him at the main entrance before going to park in the executive garage. He was alone now. Standing on the steps of Titan Enterprises with Derek and Maya blocking his path.

"Derek," Jake said. His voice was calm. Even. "Maya."

Maya's eyes were doing that scanning thing. Looking at his suit. At the building behind him. Trying to figure out the angle. What game he was playing.

"Jake." Her voice had that fake sweetness she used when she wanted something. "What a surprise. I didn't expect to see you here."

"Why wouldn't I be here?" Jake stopped a few feet away from them. "It's a business event, right?"

"Exactly." Derek stepped forward. Got in Jake's space. "A business event. For business people. Not dishwashers who got fired."

"I didn't get fired," Jake said. "I quit."

"Same difference." Derek's smile was nasty. "You're unemployed. Broke. Probably came here hoping to beg Maya for money." His eyes looked around. "Where's your sugar mommy from last night? She dump you already?"

Jake felt the ring pulse. Heat spreading up his arm. The urge to wipe that smirk off Derek's face was almost overwhelming.

'Not yet,' he told himself. 'Not here. Not like this.'

"What are you even doing here?" Maya asked. She crossed her arms. "This event is invitation only. Very exclusive. Did you follow us?"

"I have an invitation," Jake said.

Derek burst out laughing. Actually laughing. "Right. Sure you do. And I'm the Pope."

"You should leave," Maya said. Her voice got harder. "Before you embarrass yourself more than you already have. Security here doesn't mess around."

"I'm not leaving."

"Yes you are." Derek pulled out his phone. "I'm calling security right now. They'll drag you out if they have to."

"Go ahead," Jake said. "Call them."

Derek's finger hovered over his phone. Something about Jake's tone made him pause. Made him uncertain.

Then he shook it off. Dialed. Put the phone to his ear.

"Yeah, this is Derek Mitchell. We have an intruder at the main entrance. Some guy without an invitation trying to crash the event. Can you send someone down?"

He hung up. Smiled at Jake. "You've got about two minutes before you're thrown out on your ass. I'd start walking if I were you."

"I'll wait," Jake said.

The crowd around them was growing. People arriving for the event. Sensing drama. Slowing down to watch. Phones coming out.

Maya looked uncomfortable. "Jake, seriously. Just go. You're making a scene."

"I'm making a scene?" Jake raised an eyebrow. "I'm just standing here. Derek's the one who called security."

"Because you don't belong here!" Derek's voice got louder. "You're a nobody! A loser! The only reason you even met Maya was because she needed a bone marrow donor and you were pathetic enough to say yes!"

The crowd went quiet. Someone gasped.

Jake's jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists. The ring burned against his skin.

'He knows,' Jake thought. 'Maya told him. Told him everything.'

"That's cold, man," someone in the crowd muttered.

"Real classy," someone else added.

Derek didn't care. He was on a roll now. "She used you. We both did. And it was hilarious how easy you were. All she had to do was smile at you and you came running. Like a little puppy."

Maya touched Derek's arm. "Derek, maybe—"

"No." Derek shrugged her off. "He needs to hear this. He needs to understand his place. You're nothing, Morrison. You've always been nothing. Your parents didn't want you. Maya didn't want you. Nobody wants you."

The ring pulsed. Hard. Energy surged through Jake's body. His vision sharpened. He could see Derek's jugular pulsing. Could calculate exactly how much force it would take to—

"Security's here," someone in the crowd said.

Two security guards pushed through the gathering people. Big guys. Ex-military probably. Wearing the Titan Enterprises uniform.

"What's the problem?" the first guard asked. His eyes swept over the group. Landed on Derek. "Mr. Mitchell?"

"This guy." Derek pointed at Jake. "He doesn't have an invitation. He's trespassing. I want him removed."

The guard looked at Jake. Sized him up. His expression was neutral but not friendly.

"Sir," he said to Jake. His tone was professional but cold. "Do you have an invitation to this event?"

"Yes," Jake said.

"He's lying," Maya cut in. "He's just some ex-boyfriend trying to crash the party. He's obsessed with me. It's pathetic."

The second guard stepped closer to Jake. "Sir, we're going to need to see proof of invitation. If you can't provide it, I'll have to escort you out."

Jake reached into his jacket pocket. Pulled out a black card. Different from the credit card. This one had the Titan Enterprises logo embossed in silver. His name underneath. "Jake Vale."

He held it up for the guards to see.

Derek leaned over. Squinted at it. Then laughed. "That's fake. Obviously fake. Look at it. The printing is off. And who the hell is Jake Vale? His name is Jake Morrison."

"It does look suspicious," Maya agreed. She turned to the guards. "You can tell it's a knockoff, right? He probably made it on his computer or something."

The first guard took the card from Jake. Examined it. His brow furrowed.

"This is..." He looked at Derek. At Maya. "Mr. Mitchell, ma'am, these cards are specially manufactured. They have—"

"It's fake," Derek interrupted. His voice was firm. Certain. "I'm telling you right now, that card is fake. This guy is a fraud. He's trying to scam his way into the event."

The guard hesitated. He looked at his partner. Some unspoken communication passed between them.

'They know Derek,' Jake realized. 'They know his family. They're going to believe him over me.'

"Sir," the first guard said, handing the card back to Jake. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave the premises. Immediately."

"What?" Jake's grip tightened on the card. "I just showed you—"

"The card appears counterfeit," the guard said. His tone had gone cold. Official. "Attempting to gain unauthorized access to a private event is a criminal offense. You need to leave now."

"This is ridiculous," Jake said. The ring was getting hotter. Energy building in his chest. "That card is real. Call your supervisor. Call whoever issued these cards. They'll confirm—"

"Sir, I'm not going to ask again." The second guard moved closer. Reached for Jake's arm. "Let's not make this difficult."

"Don't touch me," Jake said. His voice dropped low. Dangerous. "I'm warning you. You'll regret it."

The guard paused. Something in Jake's tone made him hesitate. But then he looked at Derek. At the crowd watching. At his partner nodding for him to proceed.

His hand closed around Jake's bicep. "Sir, you're coming with—"

Jake moved.

Not fast. Not visibly aggressive. Just a simple twist of his arm. The guard's grip broke. Before anyone could process what happened, Jake's hand came up.

The slap connected with the guard's face. Open palm. Controlled force.

But the guard flew backward anyway.

Actually flew. His feet left the ground. His body sailed through the air like he'd been hit by a car. He crashed into the wall beside the entrance with a sickening thud. The impact left a crack in the stone.

Then he dropped. Hit the ground hard. Didn't move.

Silence.

Total. Complete. Silence.

Everyone stared. Phones were up. Recording. Nobody said anything. Nobody moved.

The guard groaned. Rolled onto his side. Coughed. Blood splattered onto the pavement. Bright red against gray.

"What the hell," someone whispered.

The second guard's hand went to his radio. To his taser. His face had gone pale.

The first guard struggled to his feet. His face was already swelling. His lip was split. More blood dripped from his mouth.

He spat. A tooth hit the ground with a tiny click.

"You're dead," the guard said. His voice was thick. Slurred. "You're fucking dead."

He gestured to his partner. To the other security personnel who were pushing through the crowd now. Four more guards. All big. All armed with tasers and batons.

"Take him down," the injured guard said. "Break his arms. Break his legs. I don't care. Just make sure he can't walk out of here."