2025-08-03 01:18:11Anna was barely ten minutes away from the event venue when her eyes caught a familiar license plate ahead of her. She squinted. Her heart leaped. It was Collins.
She honked twice, hoping to get his attention. As her car slowed behind his, she remembered the missed call from him earlier. She had seen it while finishing her makeup, but in the flurry of getting dressed and adjusting every stoned detail of her Dolce & Gabbana bodysuit, it had completely slipped her mind to return the call.
Her car, a fully customised luxury ride fitted with a built-in AI assistant, responded as she gave the command. “Call Collins.”
The dashboard lit up. The soft beep of the dialling sound filled the silence before his voice came through.
“Heyy girl! Where’ve you been? And what’s with the crying emoji on your story?” Collins asked, light-hearted and curious.
Anna forced a laugh, trying to mask the heaviness in her voice. “It’s nothing too much... My dad got involved in a plane crash, but—John handled it.”
“John?” Collins’s voice rose an octave. “John did what?”
The moment his name was mentioned, Collins's mind raced. John was no ordinary person. The last few days had proven that. He wasn’t just some regular guy trying to survive the elite competition—he was a force, quiet but dangerous. Collins wouldn't be surprised if John could halt death or talk the devil into signing a peace treaty.
“Yeah... John. He was of great help,” Anna replied, not ready to dive into the details. “But enough of that. I’m right behind you. Pull over.”
Collins obeyed, signalling to his driver. “Oh—alright.”
As they both pulled to a stop, the sound of sirens in the distance became louder, and the traffic ahead had slowed to a near halt. Crowds had started to gather at the far end of the street, murmuring anxiously.
“What do you think happened there?” Collins asked, glancing ahead with a frown.
Anna stepped out, heels clicking against the pavement as she approached the edge of the crowd. Her heartbeat quickened. Something wasn’t right.
Back at the venue, the black carpet was buzzing with energy. Influencers buzzed like bees in a hive, scrambling for relevance. Jerry and Rita, now inside the main hall, were glued to their phones watching the breaking news about the crash.
The words “Black Porsche Crashes into Mall” were sprawled across the screen.
Jerry turned slowly to Rita, eyes wide with suppressed glee. “Is this your plan?”
“Yeah... I hope I did well,” Rita replied, her voice coy but hungry for approval.
Jerry wrapped an arm around her shoulder and whispered, “You’re the best. His car crashed into the mall just as planned.”
He was barely able to contain his excitement but kept his expression composed to avoid suspicion. Cameras were everywhere.
With the others in tow, they slipped into the grand event hall. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. The crowd shifted focus from the carpet to the stage. The crash outside was merely a side note to most. The person inside the car wasn’t a known celebrity, so they didn’t care.
Back outside, Anna and Collins drew closer to the crash scene.
And that was when Anna saw it.
Her stomach dropped.
That hair.
That unmistakable tousled black hair—John’s.
A sharp chill ran down her spine as she quickened her steps, nearly breaking into a run. Collins followed closely behind, but the moment he saw the blood staining the windshield and pooling beneath the front seat, he froze.
His stomach twisted.
“Anna... that’s a lot of blood.”
She grabbed his arm tightly, voice sharp. “Don’t back out now.”
“I... I can’t—blood—I don’t do blood.” Collins began muttering incoherently, visibly shaking. “Blood... blood... too much blood...”
“Oh, come on!” Anna snapped and punched him lightly in the chest. “Be a man for once!”
Collins winced, still nauseous, but he forced himself forward.
Together, they reached the car.
Anna’s hand covered her mouth. She gasped.
“John...”
John was slumped against the door, his body still. But to their surprise, there was no blood on him—only a few scratches on his cheek and forehead.
Collins leaned closer and then turned toward the driver’s side.
That’s when he saw it.
The driver.
Head tilted at an unnatural angle. Blood soaked his collar and hands. A large shard of glass protruded from his throat—the rearview mirror had shattered into a lethal weapon.
Collins stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over the curb. “No... no... no... blood—blood—”
“Someone call the ambulance!” Anna screamed at the crowd. “What the hell are you all doing? Watching a horror movie?!”
“We called them!” a woman shouted. “They’re a few blocks away!”
Anna sighed with relief, kneeling beside John. She gently tried to lift him from the wreckage, her hands trembling but determined. Collins, still in shock, stood frozen as sirens pierced the air.
Within moments, an ambulance screeched to a halt and paramedics rushed toward the scene.
John stirred.
A nurse checked his pulse and nodded. “He’s alive. Faint scratches. Possible concussion. Let’s stabilise him.”
Two shots were administered, and within seconds, John’s eyelids fluttered open.
He groaned, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the lights and the chaos around him.
Anna grinned through her tears, her voice breaking. “You can’t die on me now.”
John coughed lightly, then smirked. “Still breathing. You’re still yelling... which means I’m still alive.”
His eyes darted around. “Where’s my driver?”
Anna flinched. She looked at the paramedics, giving them a silent signal.
One of them nodded and stepped in quickly. “Sir, your driver’s being taken in for further examination. We’re doing everything we can.”
John didn’t buy it. His gut told him otherwise. He pulled himself up and tried to walk toward the wreckage, but another medic held him back.
“You need to rest, sir.”
Anna stepped in. “You need to focus on getting better. Please.”
John looked into her eyes. She wasn’t crying, but she was close. That told him everything.
His fists clenched.
His voice dropped to a whisper. “Someone did this. Someone wanted me dead. And they chose tonight.”
The fire in his chest intensified—not from the crash, but from the betrayal.
He would find out.
He would make them pay.
His jaw tightened as he sat upright on the ambulance bench. Then he turned to Anna.
“Give me your phone.”
She hesitated, then handed it to him. He scrolled through, dialling a familiar number.
The call connected almost instantly.
“Chief Butler speaking, sir.”
“I need a change of clothes and an urgent makeover delivered to my location. I’m sending you my coordinates now,” John said, his tone stern.
“Understood, sir.”
John hung up and handed the phone back to Anna.
He looked down at the bloodstains on his shirt—not his own, but still a reminder.
A reminder that someone had laid a trap.
And they expected him to fall.
But he wasn’t going to just crawl away.
No, not tonight.
Tonight, he was walking into that hall.
Not as a victim.
But as a storm.
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Chapter 48: The Art or the price
King rushed downstairs to check what caused such noise and was frightened by the scene his eyes saw.He was very over it that he almost collapsed. This was not his first time being in a scene like this, but he knew better than to get his hands this dirty againHe wondered how this kind of thing could happen even after all the security measures he put in place. King turned away from the scenes and took a deep breath He knew that this was an attack from the people who hated him, and he knew just how to handle them. He asked the compere to announce to everyone that everything was fine and it was just a mistake that happened between the staff The compere was still in a state of shock as everything happened right before his eyes, the fall and the landing of the body were all very new world to him King walked up to him and slapped him “Get a fucking hold of your self and give the announcement or you are going to serve lifetime imprisonment for murder, do you get me !” King said firmly t
Chapter 47: Blue Door or Pink Door
Stuck between a wall and a brick was the best way to describe John's current state. The two doors loomed before him like silent judges, each holding a future wrapped in mystery and risk. Behind one, a world he might thrive in. Behind the other, a trap he might never recover from. And yet, he had to choose.He wiped the sweat forming on his palms and stared ahead. The blue door was cold, almost intimidating. The pink door felt louder, more energetic. Neither seemed to call his name, yet both demanded an answer.Time was ticking.John closed his eyes. He saw his grandfather’s face, that weathered look of pride mixed with burden. That man had built an empire with nothing but grit and time. He had sent John here, not just to be tested, but to be shaped. And John could almost hear his voice now, low and calm, saying: “Go where the wisdom is. Go where the fire was first lit.”He opened his eyes.And chose the blue door.He didn’t rush. He walked with a quiet dignity that belied his internal
Chapter 46: Let the Games Begin
The grand auction hall buzzed with muted murmurs and low laughter as the attendees—all paragons of old money, tech tycoons, media moguls, oil barons, and aristocrats—moved to their assigned seats. Each person carried the air of untouchable wealth, their expressions stoic yet proud, as though being there was both a privilege and an expectation.John stood at the back of the room, ticket in hand, slowly growing uncomfortable.Everyone else had located their seats with ease. Each chair was marked clearly with the corresponding code found on the guest’s invitation. But John, despite scanning the rows twice over, found no chair bearing his number. His eyes flicked over the crowd, hoping perhaps someone had taken his seat by mistake. There was, however, one vacant chair left in the entire room—a plain, metallic seat near the door with no tag or designation.He hesitated.Somewhere in the shadows of the hall, King watched through a discreet surveillance feed, a glass of dark liquor in hand a
Chapter 45 : Main hall or Terrance view
“The young master is really lucky” Jamal said as he was pissed off by how John's grandfather interrupted their plan on listening to their conversation.Jamal had been a silent observer for years, listen to Agnes sides and also to the other enemies sides to know what is happening and to help him decide which side to be on when the time was right but both sides kept logging him off when he was so close to getting solid evidences to use as leverage and today was also one of those days.“I will try again until I see my path.” Jamal said as he consoled himself over a glass of scotch near his laptop.At John's room, the makeover crew was there to help him look his best while preparing for the auction event because it was an elite event only attended by people who had $500million and above as their networth.John was honoured to be attending such an important event and really looked forward to being acquainted with his grandfather’s ally.On his way to the auction party,there were a lot of s
Chapter 44: The Auction
The sun had begun to tilt westward, casting soft gold over the ranch when John and his grandfather walked quietly toward a shed near the estate’s private stadium. Compared to the lavish halls of the Raymond mansion, the shed was modest—wooden beams, earthy scent of hay, a faint scent of polish and leather—but it was functional and, oddly enough, warm in its simplicity. A small table sat between two well-worn chairs, and on it were two tall mugs and a jug of chilled beer that the chief butler had placed there just before leaving them in peace.John’s grandfather sighed as he lowered himself into one of the chairs, stretching his back slightly as though releasing the weight of old years. He glanced over to John and motioned toward the drink.“Sit, John. And tell me what’s bothering you.”John sat down heavily, his thoughts still turning over the last twenty-four hours. He reached for the mug in front of him and took a deep gulp, letting the cool bitterness settle the tightness in his ch
Chapter 43: Enemies Seen and Unseen
The gathering had ended, and the grand hall began to empty, but not without new performances unfolding behind every handshake and smile. John remained in the room longer than necessary, observing the board members now shedding their stiff, corporate masks and slipping into something more personal—strategic, even seductive.Several of them approached him with warm, congratulatory words and polished grins that didn’t quite reach their eyes. Hands were extended, pats on the back given generously. Some invited him to their exclusive lounges upstairs for a celebratory drink, casually hinting at “getting to know each other better.” Others, less subtle, handed him gift cards to expensive spas or offered free enrollment into elite professional development courses abroad.John accepted each gesture with the grace of a man who knew too well that most offerings had an undertone. He smiled, nodded, and said all the right things. But his mind wasn’t fooled. He knew what they were doing—testing him
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