Erza had fallen asleep in my arms.
Her breath was steady, but her fingers clung to my shirt like a lifeline, even in her sleep. I watched her, chest rising and falling gently, her brows still faintly furrowed, as if even her dreams held echoes of her fears.
She did it for me.
Everything.
She always did.
Even now, she probably thinks she's a burden—thinks she's in the way.
She's wrong.
She's the only reason I haven't lost my mind.
Even though she is the strongest Dragon, an unstoppable force feared by all, she is utterly powerless against the insatiable greed of mankind.
I can't begin to imagine the sorrow and helplessness she must carry in that unbreakable heart of hers.
Carefully, I placed her beside Elena, who instinctively curled closer to her mother. I brushed a strand of hair away from Erza's cheek, whispered something she wouldn't hear…
And stood up with my blood burning.
That eternal Plantium ring.
The one thing Erza had left from her mother. The last piece of a life she lost when she chose to follow me.
And he took it.
Zeke.
That arrogant, Greedy bastard.
I grabbed my keys, my hands shaking not from fear, but from the raw, unfiltered rage coursing through my veins. My car engine roared to life as I sped into the night, tires screeching against asphalt, my mind a storm of anger and vengeance.
No plan. No backup.
Just fury.
The streets blurred into a smear of neon and shadows as I cut through the city, my thoughts locked on one thing—him. Every streetlight felt like a heartbeat, every passing car a reminder of what he'd taken from her. From me.
It wasn't just about the ring. It was about the principle. The audacity. The fact that he'd made her cry. Made her break. And now, all that rage, all that raw, unfiltered anger was coming for him.
When I reached his mansion, I didn't even hesitate. The towering iron gates loomed ahead, polished black with golden accents, a testament to his inflated ego. I barely hit the brakes as I skidded to a stop in front, gravel crunching beneath my tires.
A security guard stepped out from the shadows beside the gate, hand already moving to his holster, his flashlight cutting through the darkness as he approached my car. He was a broad, square-jawed man, clearly picked more for muscle than subtlety.
"Hey, you can't park here," he said, voice rough, eyes narrowing as he took in my scowl. "Private property."
I stepped out, slamming the door harder than necessary, the echo bouncing off the mansion's tall walls. "Tell your boss I'm here."
The guard blinked, taken aback by the sheer force of my tone. He squared his shoulders, trying to recover his professional stance. "Mr. Zeke isn't taking visitors this late. I suggest you turn around."
"Yeah?" I took a step closer, my shoes crunching against the gravel.
"Then why is his light on? Why can I hear that shitty classical music he pretends to like?"
The guard hesitated, his hand inching toward his belt. "Sir, I'm only going to say this once. Leave."
I leaned in, locking eyes with him. "You have two choices. You can let me in, or you can call the cops. Either way, I'm not moving until I see him."
For a moment, the only sound was the faint rustle of trees and the distant hum of the city behind me. Then, before the guard could respond, a familiar, contemptuous voice echoed from above.
"Well, well," came the slow, mocking drawl. "If it isn't my favorite little boy."
I looked up.
There he was. Zeke.
Standing on the first-floor balcony, arms spread like some arrogant god surveying his kingdom. He was dressed in a silk robe, a glass of wine in one hand, his lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk.
And he wasn't alone.
A woman lay sprawled on the bed behind him, sheets barely covering her. I recognized her.
She'd been at the interview too. She sat two chairs down from me. I remembered her nervous smile.
And now she was in his arms, half-naked, laughing at something he whispered.
My stomach twisted.
How far did his greed go?
What did he promise her?
Did he manipulate her too? Buy out her family like he tried with Erza's?
I stepped forward and shouted without thinking
"You son of a bitch!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the still night air. "Get your ass down here!"
Zeke took a slow sip of his wine, eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. "Oh, this should be good."
He gestured to the guard, who hesitated before stepping back, his eyes flicking between me and his boss. The gates buzzed, and I stormed through, my footsteps heavy against the polished stone of the walkway.
Zeke met me in the hallway inside Mansion, leaning against a marble pillar like he owned the world. His grin was a knife, sharp and glinting, as he looked me up and down.
"Yuuta, my boy," he said, spreading his arms like a generous host welcoming an old friend. "What brings you to my humble abode at this ungodly hour?"
I stopped a few feet away, my fists trembling at my sides. "Give me the ring."
He raised an eyebrow, taking another leisurely sip of his wine. "Ah, the ring. So this is about your little wife trinket. I was wondering when you'd come crawling."
I felt my jaw tighten, the air between us crackling with unspoken threats. "You had no right to take that."
He smiled, setting the glass down with a delicate clink. "Oh, I think I did. After all, she gave it to me willingly."
I took a step closer, my voice low and dangerous. "You manipulated her. You used her fears against her. That ring is hers. Give it back."
Zeke chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the pillar. "And if I don't?"
I met his gaze, my eyes burning. "Then you'll regret it."
He paused, considering my words, then leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You should be glad I ask for Ring not her Body"
"That's it," I growled, fists clenching. Without a second thought, I stepped forward and drove my fist into his face.
The impact echoed through the hallway. Zeke stumbled back, crashing into a nearby table, sending a vase shattering to the floor. For a brief, satisfying moment, I felt the raw crunch of bone beneath my knuckles, the sting that reminded me I was still alive, still fighting.
But then… he laughed.
A low, throaty chuckle, rising into a full, twisted cackle as he wiped the blood trickling from his split lip. He looked up at me, teeth painted red, and grinned like a wolf.
"Damn, brat," he rasped, still chuckling. "You've still got a good punch. I'll give you that. But you forgot something."
He slowly rose to his feet, brushing the dust off his shoulder. His eyes glinted with a cruel, sadistic pleasure.
"I still have the ring."
My heart dropped. That one sentence hit me harder than any punch he could throw.
I took a shaky breath, my fists trembling at my sides. "What do you want?"
He smirked, pacing slowly, circling me like a predator that's cornered its prey. "What do I want? Hah. Isn't that the question? You see, boy… that ring isn't just some piece of jewelry. It's leverage. Power. And I don't just give away power for free."
"Take my car," I snapped, trying to control the rage bubbling in my throat. "Take my savings. Everything. Just give me back my wife's ring."
He paused, tilting his head like he was genuinely considering the offer. "Savings? How much are we talking?"
"Thirty-five thousand dollars," I said, voice tight. "It's everything I've got. And the car's in great condition. You'll make your money back in no time. Just... give me back the damn ring."
For a moment, he seemed to weigh the offer, rubbing his bloody jaw as if pondering a business deal. Then, he let out a low whistle, tapping his fingers together like a gleeful, scheming rat.
"Thirty-five thousand, and a car?" He chuckled, his grin widening. "That's a generous offer. Very tempting... but it's not enough."
My jaw tightened. "What else do you want?"
He took a step closer, leaning in until his breath brushed my cheek. I could smell the expensive cologne, the faint tang of iron from his bleeding lip.
"You remember that interview? The one where you corrected me in front of the whole panel? Made me look like a damn fool in front of the board? Humiliated me?"
I didn't flinch, meeting his eyes with pure, unfiltered hate. "You deserved it."
His expression darkened, eyes narrowing to slits.
"That's what I want," he whispered, his voice dripping with venom. "I want my pride back. The pride you stripped from me in that room."
I shook my head, trying to control my breathing. "How the hell do you expect me to do that?"
He straightened, adjusting his jacket with a flick of his wrist, his smile returning—this time, colder, sharper.
"Simple," he said, voice smooth as polished steel. "Get on your knees."
I froze.
The hallway felt smaller, the walls closing in. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears, my fists clenching so tightly my nails dug into my palms.
"What?" I spat, my voice a low growl.
"You heard me," he said, tilting his head like a cat playing with a wounded mouse. "Kneel."
I took a half-step back, breath hitching. The rage in my veins screamed for me to hit him again, to break that smug face, to rip the ring from his chest with my bare hands.
"You're insane," I managed, my voice shaking.
"Maybe," he replied with a crooked, sadistic grin. "But I'm also the one holding the ring. And I'm not done."
He took a step closer, his shoes clicking against the marble floor, echoing like a countdown.
"Lick my shoe," he whispered, each word dripping with malice. "And say it."
My head snapped up, eyes locking with his. "Say what?"
"Say you're sorry," he said, his grin widening, teeth gleaming in the dim light. "Say you're sorry for bruising my ego. For making me look like a fool. For daring to think you were my equal."
My chest tightened, my vision blurring with white-hot rage. Every muscle in my body screamed at me to stand, to fight, to break him.
But then I remembered Erza's face, wet with tears. Her trembling voice as she whispered, "Help me."
This was for her.
Slowly, my knees bent, hitting the cold, unforgiving marble.
Zeke's smile grew, his eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction. He raised his foot, the polished leather inches from my face.
"Go on," he whispered, his voice dripping with sick delight. "Lick."
I closed my eyes, my pride shattering with each passing second. I could hear my pulse in my ears, feel the bile rising in my throat. My hands shook, fingers curling against the floor.
For her.
I lowered my head.
And just before my lips touched the polished leather—
Enough.!
A unknown sound
To be continued...