2025-09-19 20:17:50The night was heavy with silence. Clouds smothered the stars, and the moon hung pale over the city. Ethan’s footsteps echoed against the empty pavement as he crossed the street toward the waiting black limousine parked beneath a streetlamp.
The tinted window lowered a fraction, and the driver’s sharp eyes met his. “You’re late,” the man said flatly.
“I came as fast as I could,” Ethan replied, sliding into the back seat.
The door shut with a soft thud. The city lights blurred as the limousine pulled away, gliding into the night like a phantom. Ethan leaned back against the leather seat, his pulse racing.
For years, he had waited for this moment. For years, he had been the poor boy scraping by on part-time jobs, the invisible shadow hiding his true bloodline. Tonight, that shadow was being shed.
The driver spoke again, his voice clipped. “The Grand Patriarch is waiting. No delays. No excuses.”
Ethan’s fingers tightened around his knees. “I understand.”
Silence stretched until they reached the outskirts of the city. Then, out of the dark hills, the Cole Estate rose like something carved from another world.
A sprawling fortress of black stone and silver steel, its towers stabbed into the sky, lights burning in patterns only the family would understand.
The gates creaked open as the limousine approached, revealing manicured gardens lit by faint blue flames that never went out. The air itself seemed heavier here, carrying a weight of generations.
Ethan’s chest tightened as he stepped out of the car. The driver bowed slightly. “Good luck, young master.”
Ethan froze. It was the first time in years anyone had called him that. Inside, the grand hall loomed, lit by chandeliers dripping with diamonds, the air thick with incense and authority.
At the far end of the hall sat an old man in a high-backed chair, his white hair flowing, his cane resting against his knees.
His eyes, sharp and alive despite his age, locked onto Ethan with terrifying clarity. The Grand Patriarch. “Ethan,” the old man’s voice thundered softly, carrying without effort. “You came.”
Ethan bowed low, his heart pounding. “Grandfather.”
The Patriarch studied him in silence, his gaze sweeping over the graduation gown still draped across Ethan’s shoulders. “I heard what happened today.”
Ethan’s throat tightened. “…You did?”
The Patriarch’s lips curved into something between amusement and disapproval. “The girl humiliated you in front of the world. And you endured it without breaking. Good. Pain is a forge. The world must see you at your lowest before it learns to fear you at your highest.”
Ethan’s fists clenched. He wanted to deny the sting of Vanessa’s words, the cruel laughter of the crowd. But his grandfather’s eyes saw too much.
The old man leaned forward. “Do you think she is the last person who will betray you? The last who will laugh at you? No. This is only the beginning. If you are not prepared to carry the weight of betrayal, then you are not prepared to carry this family’s name.”
Ethan raised his head slowly. “I am prepared.”
The Patriarch’s eyes glinted. “We will see.”
A servant stepped forward, carrying a silver tray. On it lay a small black seal, carved with intricate sigils. The Patriarch gestured. “Take it.”
Ethan’s hand hovered before he closed his fingers around the seal. It was colder than ice, heavier than stone. The weight of empires pressed into his palm.
“That seal,” the Patriarch said, “is the key to everything. Every company, every bank, every army, every shadow this family commands, it will obey only the one who carries it.”
Ethan’s breath caught. “This… is the inheritance?”
The Patriarch’s smile was razor-thin. “No. This is only the door. Behind it lies the battlefield. And you, Ethan, must prove you deserve to cross it.”
Before Ethan could respond, the torches along the hall flared blue. The air grew colder. Shadows shifted along the walls. From the far corners of the room, figures stepped forward, men and women in suits, their faces sharp, their eyes colder than knives.
“The Council,” the Patriarch said. “Your uncles, aunts, cousins, and rivals. Every one of them would rather see you destroyed than crowned. Tonight, they will decide if you are worthy to be named heir.”
Ethan’s stomach dropped. One of the men sneered. “This boy? He couldn’t even keep a woman loyal to him. And you want him to inherit everything?”
Another voice hissed, “He has no scars, no victories. He’s soft. Weak.”
A woman laughed cruelly. “The world would devour him within a year.”
Their voices overlapped, sharp and venomous, each accusation cutting deeper. Ethan stood frozen in the middle of their circle, the seal burning in his hand.
The Patriarch’s cane struck the floor with a deafening crack. The hall fell silent.
“Enough,” the old man growled. His gaze locked onto Ethan, piercing, unrelenting. “Ethan Cole. Tomorrow, the world will know your name. But tonight, you must survive the Council. If you falter, if you fail, if you show weakness”
His voice dropped, heavy with finality. “they will tear you apart.”
The torches flickered violently. The Council closed in, their eyes hungry. And Ethan realized, Vanessa’s betrayal had been nothing. This was the true beginning.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 17 – Fallout of the Broken Rule
The silence after the emissary vanished was deafening. No hum of air conditioning. No city traffic bleeding through the glass. Just the shallow, ragged breaths of Ethan and the man sprawled on the carpet.The survivor’s eyes rolled wildly in their sockets, darting from the door to the shattered curtains to Ethan himself.He was pale, sweat pouring down his forehead, blood soaking the sleeve where the dagger’s phantom cut had opened flesh. Ethan crouched beside him, the coins burning still in his grip.“Hey,” Ethan said, forcing his voice low, steady. “You’re alive. You’re safe.”The man recoiled as if struck, scrambling backward on his elbows until his shoulders slammed into the wall. “Safe? SAFE?!” He jabbed a trembling finger at Ethan. “That thing dragged me into this room, out of nothing! You called it!”“I didn’t call it,” Ethan said sharply. “It came for me. You were part of its game.”“Game?” the man spat, hysteria bubbling under his words. “You think that was a game?!”Ethan’s
Chapter 16 – The Emissary’s Test
The knock had stopped. Ethan’s fingers tightened around the coins in his pocket as the door eased open on its own, swinging wider without a sound. A figure stepped across the threshold.At first glance it looked like a man, tall and thin, dressed in a suit so black it seemed woven from shadow. But its face, no, not a face at all.Smooth, featureless skin stretched where eyes, mouth, and nose should have been, as though someone had erased them. Only the faintest suggestion of cheekbones shifted when it turned its head toward him.The air grew heavy. Every shadow in the suite stretched toward the figure, bending unnaturally, dragging across the floor like oil.Ethan forced himself to stand his ground. “Who are you?”The figure’s head tilted, the blank surface glistening faintly. When it spoke, its voice didn’t come from any mouth but from the walls themselves, vibrating in the bones of the room.“A herald. A witness. An emissary of the Ledger.”The coins in Ethan’s palm burned hot. His
Chapter 15 – The Weight of Two Coins
Ethan hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until he jolted awake, the bedside lamp still burning and both coins lying side by side on the nightstand.They pulsed faintly in the dim light, not together, not apart, but in a maddening rhythm, ba-dup, ba-dup, ba-dup, out of sync like two dueling heartbeats.His temples throbbed in time with them. He sat up, dragging a hand through his hair, eyes fixed on the dark metal discs. “Crown or dagger,” he muttered, remembering the woman’s words.As if in answer, the dagger side of the second coin glimmered faintly, a ripple of cold spreading across the air. The suite felt suffocating, though nothing had changed.The curtains still hung heavy against the city lights, the air conditioning still hummed, the carpets still smelled faintly of new fabric. Yet now every detail seemed staged, brittle, unreal.He pushed to his feet, pacing, his gaze darting back to the coins as if they might move on their own. This is ridiculous, he told himself. They were j
Chapter 14– Into the Black Ledger
The suite was too quiet. Ethan sat at the edge of his bed, staring at the black coin where it lay on the nightstand.Even when untouched, it seemed to hum faintly, like the low vibration of a distant engine or the pulse of some subterranean current.He rubbed his palms over his face, dragging away the fatigue, then leaned closer. “What are you?” he whispered, as though speaking too loudly might wake something best left asleep.The shadows in the corners didn’t answer. But the coin glimmered, catching the first light of dawn. He didn’t leave the suite for hours.Room service trays collected dust by the door. His laptop sat open across the desk, tabs upon tabs of searches sprawled across the screen: obscure folklore forums, digitized occult manuscripts, archived conspiracy blogs that hadn’t been updated in a decade.He should have felt foolish. He didn’t. Because the deeper he went, the more he recognized patterns he’d already begun to sense.Stories about a Game hidden beneath the skin
Chapter Thirteen – Cracks in the Glass
The city hadn’t slept, but Vanessa hadn’t either. She stood before the wall of windows in Damian’s penthouse, the night stretching endless beyond the glass.The skyline glittered with wealth, with order, with control, everything she had always believed was hers to command.Yet tonight the lights looked mocking, every reflection distorted, every shadow on the streets below whispering things she couldn’t hear but somehow understood.Behind her, Damian sat at his desk, his tie still undone from the night before, his hair disheveled, his face pale. He hadn’t touched his drink in hours.His phone sat silent, dark, as though the device itself feared to be turned on. “You haven’t said a word in two hours,” Vanessa snapped, voice sharp enough to cut glass.Damian didn’t look up. “Words are dangerous now.”“Don’t start that again.” Vanessa spun, her robe swirling around her legs. “You’re letting fear choke you. That… that thing last night? It was theater. A warning, maybe. But that doesn’t mea
Chapter 12 – Whispers of the Ledger
The night had grown thick with celebration. Music spilled from the penthouse lounge of the Langley Hotel, where Vanessa reclined against velvet cushions, her crystal glass of champagne catching the glow of the chandeliers. Damian lounged beside her, tie loose, jacket discarded, his grin sharp as a wolf’s.Screens lined one wall, each displaying feeds from social media. Ethan’s humiliation replayed endlessly, him on his knees, the rejection, the laughter, the way Vanessa had turned her back on him without a second thought. The headlines were vicious.Vanessa twirled her glass. “Look at him. Hours ago, the world saw him for what he is, small, pathetic, beneath us.”Damian laughed. “And tomorrow, no one will remember his name.”Vanessa leaned closer, her perfume heavy with roses and venom. “That’s what I like about you, Damian. You understand that power isn’t about money or legacy. It’s about perception. Strip a man of dignity in front of the world, and he’ll never recover.”Damian raise
You may also like
Ethan Nightangle Rises To Power
Dragon Sly97.0K viewsRise Of The Sole Heir
Estypen77.7K viewsRags To Riches: The Riveting Tale Of Jason Smith
Chukwuemeka_101122.4K viewsThe Indestructible Alexander
Adam Aksara88.7K viewsTHE VENGEFUL BILLIONAIRE
Zhen Zhen257 viewsGOD OF WAR: THE SYSTEM OF VENGEANCE
D.twister596 viewsThe Hidden Ace: Empire Of Ash & Gold
Bloom300 viewsThe Gaming Master
SPLUFIK PEN357 views