The city lights of Sylvenia bled into the darkening sky like bruises. Horns of vehicles echoed faintly in the distance, but in the elite district of Velmara Heights, the tension was silent.
Alric Eirwen's heart beat like a war drum as he slipped through the shadowed service exit of the apartment. No guards spotted him—he made sure of that. Hood drawn low over his face, he clutched a duffel bag, the fabric stiff from how tightly his fingers gripped it.
The cold wind bit through his hoodie, but he didn't slow.
He didn't dare.
"You're not safe anymore." The memory of his late father's voice echoed in his head—words whispered once in a fit of guilt.
"If something ever happens to me, leave everything. Trust no one. Not even Evelyn."
And now Evelyn had made her move.
Evelyn's boyfriend-Lucien Gray signaled one of his men and ordered him to summon Alric. The man dressed in a black suit informs Lucien of Alric's escape.
"He escaped?" Lucien's jaw ticked.
"You had one job. He was in the damn apartment."
The bodyguard bowed his head."We checked his room. The security feed was wiped ten minutes ago. He's vanished."
Lucien exhaled, his voice ice:"Then find him."
"I want him alive. Drag him back. If he resists, break his legs."
His voice was a whisper laced with venom. The guards flinched.
Lucien then returned to Evelyn who was in her office chamber, seated on the velvet chaise, pouring drink with elegance and malice.
Lucien's eyes narrowed."Why make him CEO? You could've taken it yourself. Or named me."
Evelyn laughed. A bitter, mocking melody."Because now the world sees me as a grieving mother who believes in her son." She sipped her wine."And that fragile brat? He'll fall apart within weeks. He'll beg to step down."
Lucien's brows furrowed. Evelyn only smiled darker.
"It's a beautiful trap. And now that I've 'gifted' him the throne, no one will blame me when he breaks."
Alric sprinted through the back alleys of Sylvenia, lungs burning, legs numb. Shadows followed—boots echoing, voices barking orders. A gang of men in black bearing Lucien's crest.
He ducked around a corner—
—and ran straight into someone.
A tall man with jet-black hair, carefree eyes, and a smoothie in his hand.
Alric stumbled back."I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
"Woah! you alright there, sugarcube?" said the man flashing a wide smile. "What's the rush young man? You almost fell! Thank goodness! My smoothie survived" Of course, it was Ivan!
Alric (panicked, breathless):"P-Please—!"
Ivan (eyes widening)
"Whoa, whoa—Hey. Hey, you're hurt—"
Alric looked at Ivan with his honey tinted eyes which seemed like those of a terrified puppy."They're coming… please... I—I don't know where else to go…"
Ivan (grabbing his shoulders, steady but soft):"Look at me. Who's coming?"
A group of men turned the corner, surrounding them slowly, dressed in sleek black, armed but trying to appear casual. "There you are, rich boy," one growled. "Come quietly."
Their leader stepped forward with a cruel grin.
"Hey! You! Give him to us, and walk away. Unless you're asking for death"
Alric (voice low, shaking):"Don't... Don't get involved. Please. But I need help. Just… just for now."
Ivan (without hesitation, looking into Alric's eyes):"You're asking the wrong person to stay out of things, Honeydrop."
He gently pushes Alric behind him, his tone flipping from gentle to steel-edged.
Ivan (to the thugs):"You boys sure you want to do this? Night's already ruined, and I've got a soft spot for fragile-looking guys with golden eyes."
Lead Thug (scoffing):"You? You think you can stop us?!"
Ivan (sighing):"No. I think you can't stop ME." He smirked and gently handed Alric the smoothie,
"Hold this, Honeydrop. Don't spillit."
Thirteen men closed in, surrounding the alley.
Ivan stared at them blankly."Seriously? Thirteen for one scared kid?"
"Go get that thick haired bastard out of the way!" yelled the leader.
"Damn, I hate ruining my Friday nights." Ivan sighed. He stretched his neck left and right. A soft cracking echoed.
Alric, panting, noticed faint bruises near Ivan's collarbone. Something darker than scars. Battle-worn.
The first man lunged.
Alric barely had time to flinch.
The men rushed forward — but in seconds, Ivan moved. A blur of motion, fluid and exact. Within thirty seconds, half of the men were down, groaning, disarmed.
Alric watched, stunned. Ivan's face was calm, even slightly bored, like this was his routine.
Within minutes, seventeen men lied on the ground. Groaning. Defeated.
Alric stared at him, speechless, eyes wide with disbelief as Ivan dusted off his hoodie casually.
"Still think I should've walked away?" Ivan grinned, barely out of breath.
Alric was too stunned to speak. Did he just witness a real life John Wick, taking down all those men like they were just mere mosquitoes?
"Told you not to spill the smoothie" Ivan exhaled.
Alric stared at him,
"Who… what are you?"
"I'm the guy who makes damn good coffee." Ivan winked. "Come on, Honeydrop. Let's get you somewhere safe. Tell me, where's your home, I'll drop you off."
Alric, blinked, stared at Ivan for a while,
"I don't have anyone or anywhere to go to." he said lowering his head.
Ivan paused. "But now, you do." he said, giving out a warm smile.
AT THE LUXURIOUS MANSION OF EIRWEN ESTATE-
The light here was harsh. Cold. White. The opposite of DuskHaven.
Evelyn, still in her evening gown, leaning against the marble kitchen island with a glass of red wine in hand. Across from her, Lucien paced, jaw tight with frustration.
Lucien (furious): "He vanished. Just like that. None of the surveillance caught him leaving. It's like he evaporated."
Evelyn (sipping her wine): "He always was good at running away. Never good at surviving it though."
Lucien (cold): "If anyone finds him first… they might not wait to hear who sent them."
Evelyn: "And why would I care? The moment he signed the papers, the company's in his name. That's all I needed."
Lucien stopped pacing.
Lucien (narrowed eyes): "You're one dangerous woman, you know that?"
Evelyn (smirks): "Please. He was an obstacle. Now he's a tool. If he fails — and he will — the board will remove him, and guess who they'll look tonext."
She raised her glass in mock toast.
Evelyn: "To tragic, weak heirs."
Lucien: "And to the vultures who pick their bones."
They clinked their glasses, red wine caught the candlelight like fresh blood.