The Midnight Thief

Chapter 4

The heavy silence inside the Grand Plaza ballroom felt thick enough to choke on. Gregory Vance stared down at the legal document resting against his polished leather shoes, his face turning from pale white to a furious, blotchy red. The official seals stamped across the top of the paper were unmistakable, they belonged to the city’s primary financial registry, confirming a complete transfer of corporate debt.

“This… this is impossible!” Gregory stammered, his voice cracking slightly as he looked up from the stage. He pointed a shaking finger at the handsome, sharply dressed man standing in the center aisle. “Nobody can buy up a controlling block of Vance Logistics overnight! Who are you, and what kind of sick joke are you playing?”

Whispers erupted through the crowd of wealthy elites and politicians. Cameras flashed from the back of the room as reporters scrambled to capture the unexpected drama.

Leo didn’t flinch. He kept his hands comfortably tucked inside the pockets of his obsidian-black suit, his dark eyes locked onto Gregory with unyielding power. He didn't raise his voice, yet every single person in the room heard him clearly.

“It’s no joke, Gregory,” Leo said smoothly, taking a slow, deliberate step closer to the stage. “When you spend decades bleeding your suppliers dry, dodging taxes, and stepping on anyone smaller than you, you leave a lot of doors unlocked. I simply walked through one.”

Beside Gregory, Sophie gripped her emerald gown so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her chest heaved as she stared at the mysterious investor. Something about the way he stood, the sharp angles of his jaw, the terrifying calmness in his deep voice, sent a cold, sickening wave of dread crashing over her. It couldn't be him. The pathetic, broken beggar they had thrown into a rotting shed was dead. He had to be dead.

Andres, standing just behind her, pushed his way forward, his hulking frame tense with sudden aggression. “Enough of this garbage!” Andres roared, stepping to the edge of the stage. “If you think you can walk in here and humiliate the Vance family, you’ve got another thing coming. Security! Get this clown out of here right now!”

Two massive security guards in tight black suits immediately stepped out from the side doors, rushing down the aisle toward Leo with their hands outstretched, ready to grab him by the collar.

Leo didn't even blink. As the first guard lunged forward and reached for his shoulder, Leo sidestepped with effortless, supernatural speed. He caught the guard’s wrist with a grip of solid iron and twisted it just enough to send a sharp jolt of pain through the man’s arm. With a swift, controlled sweep of his leg, Leo sent the second guard crashing hard against the banquet tables, shattering crystal glassware across the floor.

The entire ballroom gasped, backing away in sheer terror. In less than three seconds, two professional bouncers had been taken down without Leo breaking a single sweat or messing up his tie.

Andres’s face flushed red with absolute fury. He was a man who solved every problem with brute force—the exact same brute force he had used months ago to shatter Leo’s knees in the courtyard. Hearing the familiar confidence in this stranger’s movements triggered a dark, ugly instinct inside him.

“You’re asking for a death sentence!” Andres shouted, vaulting off the stage and charging straight at Leo like a wild bull, throwing a vicious, heavy right hook aimed right at Leo’s jaw.

The punch packed enough power to knock out a normal man. But Leo just stood his ground. At the exact millisecond the fist came flying toward his face, Leo raised his hand and caught Andres’s massive fist dead in his palm.

The impact sent a shockwave through the air. Andres’s eyes widened in sudden, absolute horror. No matter how hard he pushed, his fist couldn't move an inch forward. It felt like he was punching a wall of solid, unyielding steel.

“Is that all you’ve got, Andres?” Leo whispered softly, his voice dropping an octave, filled with a terrifying, hidden menace that only the brute could feel. “I remember when you used to be much stronger when you had four security guards holding me down.”

Andres froze. The color drained completely from his face. Those words, four security guards holding me down—were a ghost from a nightmare he thought he had buried forever.

Before Andres could pull his hand back or scream out, Leo squeezed his palm with a fraction of his true, vampiric strength. A sickening crunch echoed through the silent ballroom as the bones in Andres’s hand cracked under the pressure. Andres let out an ear-splitting shriek of agony, collapsing hard onto his knees, clutching his mangled hand to his chest.

Panic exploded across the room. Women screamed, politicians scrambled for the exits, and Sophie rushed forward, her face twisted in absolute horror as she looked down at her groaning lover.

Gregory grabbed the microphone, his hands shaking violently. “Somebody call the police! Arrest this maniac!”

Leo calmly stepped over the writhing form of Andres, brushing a speck of dust off his custom lapel. He looked straight up at Gregory and Sophie, offering a cold, razor-sharp smile that promised absolute ruin.

“Don’t bother calling the cops, Gregory,” Leo said, turning around and walking slowly toward the grand double doors of the exit. “The real audit of the Vance empire has only just begun.”