The Urban God Of Riverdale

Chapter 9: The Heiress Struggle 2

Rowen almost snorted. Everyone had been trying to play his family name these days.

It was getting ridiculous. Every bottom-feeder in the city thought they could throw the Hart name around like some magic badge that would solve all their problems and make them untouchable. Like saying it three times would summon some kind of protection they had never earned.

Despite the pressure and the fact that no one was helping, Van's face remained impossibly calm as she pushed his arm away.

There was something about her composure that stood out in all this chaos. Even with everyone else shrinking back and pretending not to see what was happening right in front of them, she kept her spine straight.

"I only came here, Mr. Vince, because you said you could help—not because I wanted to have anything to do with you!" she protested strongly.

And the man only flashed an even stronger smile that caused Rowen's stomach to turn.

It was the kind of smile that belonged in dark alleys, not in the middle of the Royal Hills Hotel lobby.

"You should know the business world—everything is a trade. When I said that I could help you, you should know what I meant. We are all adults here!"

Van frowned, cutting through both sides of her lips as her face froze with a tight expression.

"I am afraid and sorry that I didn't read such interpretations into your words!" There was clear irritation in her voice.

"There is a clear misunderstanding between us. My father's company stock is falling and a strong relationship with the Hart family—even though there is no form of investment—would help to strengthen customers' trust in our company. 

I really hope that I would be able to do business with you!" 

Her words were calm, professional even, but you could hear the disappointment tucked between each sentence. She had actually come here expecting to work like a normal person.

With those words, Van turned around to leave, clearly irritated, but it didn't seem like Vince was going to be letting her go any time soon.

He caught hold of her hands, holding her firmly by her skin.

"You're sure you really don't want my help?" An evil glint flashed in his eyes together with the reflection of his golden tooth as they fell apart in halves.

Van's stomach instantly churned when he mentioned these words. The bitter taste of bile rose through her throat and she stared at him with so much disdain that was enough to make the blood of anyone run cold.

However, Mr. Vince was too consumed to notice.

He was enjoying this. The attention, the fear in the air, the way everyone else was pretending to be blind so they wouldn't have to get involved.

"So what's it going to be?" he asked further and Van snarled.

"Even if all the men in the world had gone extinct and you were the only one left, Mr. Vince, I'm afraid but I still wouldn't pick you. 

I would puke just at the sight of you naked!" 

Gasps rippled through the hall as everyone tried to hide their laughs. 

Some people turned their heads away, shoulders shaking slightly, but nobody dared let the sound escape. The fear of Vince pressed down stronger than their amusement.

Vince's face instantly ran solid cold and the laughter vanished from their faces.

The veins around his neck tightened. The smile disappeared like it had never existed and what was left was something cold and ugly.

"Do you know who I am? I have a strong tie with the Hart family and I could level and crush your family to the ground just with a few orders. 

When I said that I wanted you warming my bed tonight, I wasn't making a proposal. I was already informing you of what is going to happen!"

With those words, the guards that came along with Vince started circling them and still nobody moved.

The air in the lobby grew heavy, like the whole place was holding its breath. Even the clinking of glasses from the bar seemed to stop. People who were seated leaned back in their chairs, putting distance between themselves and what was happening.

"Plus even if I have anything to do with you right here, nobody would dare to say anything about it because I am related to the Hart family!"

Rowen's hands tightened at his sides.

He hated it when people used his family name to do evil from even just the tiniest ties that they had with the family, and most people did not even have any ties.

That was why most people disliked their company so much because of the claim that they were led by cruel monsters.

These were one of the reasons.

Every time someone like Vince opened their mouth and used the Hart name like a weapon, the hatred for his family doubled somewhere in the city. They would never trace it back to moments like this. They would just say "The Harts are demons" and move on.

For the first time, Van panicked.

Beads of sweat rolled off from her face in waves and her eyes wandered erratically. 

"You won't dare! I will call 911!"

Those words didn't stop Vince. Instead they made him burst into a fit of cruel mocking laughter.

The sound came out rough and scraping, like broken metal against concrete.

"Really?" he echoed.

"The security agency going against the Hart family? You must have been away for too long that you don't even realize just how powerful they have become!" he added once again. 

This time, Van trembled under her own weight. 

Her eyes wandered through the crowd, finally on the nobles who quickly pulled their eyes away with hands in between their feet.

They suddenly found the tiles, their phones, their drinks more interesting than the woman being dragged in front of them. Some shifted uncomfortably, some looked guilty, but none of them moved.

No one wanted to be caught in the wildfire and become Vince's scapegoat, especially when the bone of contention had nothing to do with them.

Rowen had seen this kind of thing before. When danger showed up, morality was the first thing to run away. Everyone loved talking about justice until it required them to stand up to someone with money.

The guards grabbed her, some by the legs and others by the shoulders and arms, and they were on their way towards shoving Van into a room so their master could have his way with her when a sudden clap rang through the room.

It was loud. Not polite applause, but a single sharp crack that cut through the air like a warning shot.

Everyone turned towards the direction only to see a man standing on the table with a face brimming with so much confidence. 

He stood there in the middle of the hall, on top of one of the expensive tables like it was just another piece of floor meant for his feet. His plain clothes made him stand out even more among all the glittering dresses and suits.

Some people frowned immediately, irritated that someone was disturbing their precious peace. They didn't care about a woman being forced away, but a man standing on furniture? That was offensive.

"Good acting but the show is over and we need you to stop the crap right this moment!" he said evenly. 

He didn't shout the words. He didn't need to. They slid through the silence and hit harder than screaming would have.

The instant that he said these words, it caused the stomach of the nobles and everyone else that were around the place to twist almost instantly and their eyes popped out from their sockets.

A man by the bar almost dropped his glass, fingers shaking around the stem. A woman beside him gripped her purse so tight her knuckles went white.

They could not believe that someone had said those words to someone as powerful as Vince.

And most importantly, a pauper-looking man that didn't even seem like he should have access to even the basement of the hotel was the one that had dared to speak.

His shirt wasn't designer. His shoes weren't shiny. There was no heavy watch screaming for attention. To most of them, he looked like someone who had walked into the wrong building.

Yet somehow, the way he stood there made everyone feel like they were the ones out of place.

Whispers started moving around the room like smoke.

"Who is that?"

"Is he crazy?"

"He's dead. That man is dead."