Victor lay in the VIP ward of the hospital, the sterile white walls around him doing little to soothe the storm brewing inside. His face was heavily bandaged, with particular attention paid to his nose, which had been broken severely by Lucian’s relentless punches.
It had been three hours since the fight at the restaurant. The doctors had worked quickly to tend to him, wrapping him up and ensuring his injuries were stabilized. But even as he sat propped up on the hospital bed, scrolling through his phone, the anger boiling in his veins made the physical pain feel insignificant.
Victor’s back pressed against the headboard, his posture rigid despite the comfort of the bed. His eyes were fixed on the screen, frustration tightening his features as he scoured the web for any clue about Lucian Kane’s true background.
He was certain absolutely certain that Lucian wasn’t who he appeared to be. No second-generation waste could fight like that. No pampered rich kid could land punches with that kind of precision or power.
And yet, even after hours of digging, Victor found nothing.
No evidence of training, no hidden affiliations, no connections to anyone that could explain the bastard’s skill. Lucian’s image remained exactly what it was meant to be a second-generation failure, a nobody.
Victor’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white. His teeth clenched behind swollen lips, the sharp ache reminding him of the bruises and cuts he bore. But it wasn’t the injuries that truly pained him. No, the physical wounds were nothing compared to the blow to his pride.
His ego was in shreds.
“How the hell…” Victor muttered through gritted teeth, his voice low and rough, “did that piece of shit manage to punch me like that?”
He had spent years training years fighting, enduring pain, and building his strength all for revenge. And yet, Lucian Kane, a man mocked by everyone as a worthless heir, had humiliated him in front of an audience. It was incomprehensible.
Victor’s jaw clenched as he replayed the fight in his mind. He still couldn’t decipher how he had lost so easily. It didn’t make sense. He had planned everything, calculated every angle. Lucian wasn’t supposed to be able to fight back.
Knock. Knock.
The sharp sound of a knock on the door pulled Victor from his spiraling thoughts.
“Come in,” he barked, his voice hoarse. He winced as the movement irritated his swollen mouth but didn’t bother adjusting his tone.
The door swung open, and Drake hurried in, his face glistening with sweat. He was out of breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly as though he had been running.
“Boss! Boss something serious happened!” Drake panted, clutching the doorframe for support.
Victor’s eyes narrowed, his patience already paper-thin. “What now?” he growled, his voice laced with irritation. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t do your job. I gave you simple instructions. You got the footage, didn’t you?”
Drake hesitated, his hesitation enough to set Victor’s teeth on edge.
“Well?” Victor pressed, his voice sharp.
Drake straightened slightly, wiping his brow. “About that, Boss…” he started, his words faltering as he glanced at Victor’s bandaged face.
Victor’s gaze hardened. “Don’t waste my time. Speak clearly.”
Drake swallowed, his voice trembling slightly. “The cameras… something happened. We… we don’t have the footage.”
Victor’s body went rigid. Slowly, he sat up straighter, the tension in the room thickening. “What do you mean, ‘something happened’?” he asked, his tone dangerously quiet.
“All the footage is gone,” Drake stammered. “Deleted. It just… disappeared.”
Victor’s eyes widened slightly, his expression darkening as the weight of Drake’s words sank in.
“Gone?” Victor repeated, his voice low and seething.
“I don’t know how,” Drake said quickly, raising his hands defensively. “The cameras were digital, all linked to backup devices. Even if something happened to the cameras themselves, the footage should have been saved elsewhere. But… it’s gone. Everything. Wiped clean. There’s no trace of it.”
Victor’s hands clenched into fists, his entire body trembling with barely-contained fury. “Are you telling me,” he said slowly, his voice shaking, “that all these injuries I got… all this pain… was for NOTHING?”
Victor had orchestrated everything to perfection. From the very beginning, his visit to Lucian was a calculated move. The confrontation and subsequent fight weren’t coincidental they were part of his elaborate scheme. Victor had intended to take a few staged punches, capturing footage of the infamous second-generation heir, Lucian Kane, brutally attacking someone without provocation. The narrative? Lucian abusing his family’s influence to intimidate others.
Victor’s goal was clear: tarnish Lucian’s social image beyond repair. With the video evidence, Lucian would face public backlash, painted as a privileged bully exploiting his status. The Kane name would be dragged through the mud, and Victor knew that even the Starline family Avey’s family would be compelled to distance themselves from Lucian. They’d likely pressure Avey to reconsider any association with someone so reckless and disgraceful.
Of course, Victor hadn’t anticipated the severity of the beating he’d receive. The plan had been to feign injury after a few light blows, creating the illusion of an accidental knockdown. Instead, Lucian had genuinely lost control, landing real punches that left Victor battered and bruised. Yet, despite the unexpected pain, Victor saw the outcome as a victory.
Lucian’s reputation would take a massive hit, the footage painting him as a violent aggressor. While Victor had to endure some physical sacrifice, he considered it a small price to pay in the larger game. Anything, after all, was worth it to destroy his enemies.
As he nursed his wounds, Victor reflected, “The plan didn’t go perfectly, but it worked out better than expected. Sometimes, the best outcomes arise from the chaos.”
Without warning, Victor surged forward, grabbing Drake by the collar. The sudden movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through his bandaged face, but he ignored it, his rage overpowering any physical discomfort.
“You had ONE job,” Victor snarled, his voice rising despite the strain it caused him. “One simple job, and you FAILED!”
“Boss! Wait!” Drake yelled, his voice cracking as Victor’s grip tightened.
Victor didn’t let go. His teeth ground together as he stared into Drake’s panicked eyes. “I planned everything. EVERYTHING. And you’re telling me it was all for nothing?”
“Boss, please!” Drake pleaded, his voice strained. “There’s more! Something worse happened!”
Victor’s grip on Drake’s collar loosened slightly, though his piercing glare remained fixed on his subordinate. “Worse?” he hissed, his voice sharp and low. “What could possibly be worse than this?” Explore stories at empire
Drake swallowed hard, his face pale, beads of sweat gathering at his brow. His lips parted hesitantly, as if the words themselves were too heavy to say. “Just after you… lost control and I got you here,” he said slowly, his voice trembling, “I got calls. Something happened. Something serious…”
Victor’s hands twitched, his fingers digging into Drake’s collar. “Say it, damn it!” he shouted, his voice raw with frustration and rage. His plans had failed spectacularly, and now Drake was stalling? “Say it fast, you useless bastard!”
Drake flinched but forced himself to continue, though his voice grew weaker with each word. “Boss, everything… everything in Wolly City is over. In just the last two hours, all the connections we had everything we built it’s all gone. They even seized…”
“Spit it out already!” Victor’s roar cut through the room, his face twisting with anger.
Drake inhaled shakily, finally blurting out, “We’re over, Boss. Our entire operation in Wolly City has been destroyed.”
—-
shameless author again asking for powerstones and tickets
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