Chapter 6
last update2026-08-14 12:05:37

Michael turned around slowly to face Elizabeth, his voice steady as he asked, “And how is that any of your business?”

Elizabeth’s expression twisted with anger. She pointed at him and spoke through gritted teeth. “Why didn’t you tell me before that you had money? All this time you hid it from me and let me suffer for years!”

Michael narrowed his eyes at her. “And why should I have told someone who never showed a single bit of gratitude?”

Her face flushed with rage, but before she could answer he continued in a calm, measured tone. “Tell me, when were you ever satisfied with anything I did for you? All you ever did was criticize me and compare me to your friends who had rich boyfriends. And now you expect me to have shared my wealth with you?” He gave a slight shake of his head. “You’re not worthy of it.”

“Michael, I will never forgive you for this!” Elizabeth shouted.

He raised an eyebrow. “Forgive me? Weren’t you the one who said we came from different worlds? It seems you were right after all. We really don’t belong in the same world.”

Elizabeth stared at him, her face burning with humiliation. The anger in her eyes slowly twisted into something colder and sharper—hatred. In that moment she wanted nothing more than to see him ruined.

As if answering her silent wish, two black vans suddenly pulled up in front of the hotel. The doors slid open and ten heavily built men stepped out with weapons in hand, quickly surrounding Michael in a tight circle. A moment later a luxurious car came to a stop nearby. The door opened and a man stepped out with an unmistakable air of arrogance, his eyes locking onto Michael with open hostility.

Michael’s lips curved into a faint smile as he recognized the figure. It seemed the system had been right. He had indeed gained a dangerous love rival.

“Boy,” the man said coldly as he walked forward, “did you really think you could take the woman our set has set his eyes on and walk away unharmed?”

Michael looked at him with genuine confusion. “How exactly did I steal her?”

Michael understood at once whose orders had brought the vans. Damien. He had already assumed a confrontation of this sort would come, yet the speed of it still caught him slightly off guard. The system’s warning had been accurate, but he had expected at least a day or two before the other side moved with this much force.

The ten men closed ranks around him in a practiced ring, weapons held low but ready. One of them, a solidly built figure with a cold set to his jaw, stepped forward a half-pace ahead of the others. His name was John; Michael had seen the face once before in a secondary report the system had flagged.

John’s voice was flat, carrying none of the theatrical arrogance Michael had half-expected. “You’re the one who interfered with the woman Damien already marked. That ends now.”

Michael kept his posture relaxed, eyes moving briefly across the circle before settling on John again. “I interfered with nothing. She spoke to me of her own accord. Whatever claim Damien believes he holds is a matter between the two of them, not something I am required to answer for.”

John’s expression did not change. “Damien does not accept explanations. He accepts results. You were seen with her. That is enough.”

“Seen speaking,” Michael corrected quietly. “Nothing more. If Damien prefers to treat a public conversation as theft, then the standard he is using has little to do with reality and everything to do with pride.”

A muscle tightened along John’s jaw. “Pride is not your concern. Payment is. Damien instructed us to collect it. You will not walk away from this intact.”

Michael’s mouth curved in the faintest suggestion of something that was not quite a smile. “Then collect it. I see no reason to make the process more interesting than it needs to be.”

John gave a short nod to the men on either side. “Break his arms.”

The men moved at once, closing the remaining distance with practiced speed. Michael’s mouth curved in a faint, almost private smile as he watched them come. He had already measured their angles, their weight distribution, the way each one carried his weapon. None of it would matter.

Elizabeth’s eyes lit with a hard, anticipatory gleam as she pictured the beating she believed was about to unfold. John, standing a few paces behind the ring of attackers, wore a similar expression of quiet satisfaction, certain the outcome had already been decided.

The first impact landed with a dull, heavy sound. Then another. A rapid sequence of muffled groans rose and broke into sharper cries of pain. Within moments every one of the ten men lay scattered across the pavement, each nursing a shattered limb or a joint twisted beyond use. Michael had moved through them with ruthless economy, never wasting a strike, never allowing any of them the chance to recover.

He turned then and fixed his gaze on John, who stood frozen in place, the earlier confidence drained from his face.

“And you?” Michael asked, voice calm as he began walking forward.

John stumbled backward. “Stay away from me.”

Michael’s brows drew together slightly. “You ordered them to break my arms. Why should distance suddenly matter now?”

John’s throat worked as he searched for an answer that would not come. Sweat had already begun to bead along his hairline.

“I’m waiting,” Michael said. “You wanted my limbs broken. Here I am.”

“I— I was only carrying out orders,” John managed, voice thinning. “I never intended—”

“Then I’ll finish what you started.” Michael’s foot snapped out. The heel connected cleanly with John’s lower leg. A sharp crack cut through the air, followed by a raw, rising scream as John collapsed, both legs useless beneath him.

System notifications chimed quietly in Michael’s mind.

[Ding: Two hundred points received]

[Ding: Three hundred points received]

He frowned at the unexpected alerts. The system was rarely generous without cause. He had already dismissed the earlier notifications that arrived with John’s arrival, but these new ones demanded attention. Turning his head, he caught the ashen faces of Elizabeth and the two women standing with her. Fear had drained the color from their features. Understanding settled over him at once. The points were being generated by their terror.

For a brief moment he considered pressing that fear further, wondering how many additional points the three of them might yield if he simply stood there a little longer and let the silence work. The thought passed almost as quickly as it formed. He was not in the habit of tormenting people for sport.

Elizabeth recovered first, voice rising in sharp accusation. “Michael, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He looked at her with the same faint, unreadable smile. “I never claimed to be reasonable, Elizabeth.”

Fresh notifications sounded in his mind, confirming that her renewed fear was still productive. He ignored them, turned back to John lying broken on the ground, and spoke with quiet finality.

“Now we can return to the conversation we were having.”

The sudden roar of engines cut across the street. A line of police vehicles swung into view and came to a hard stop, doors already opening.

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