She clenched her fists mid-flight, the leather of her gloves groaning in protest.
The glow around her intensified, casting an eerie violet hue across the darkening skyline. She was moving too fast, almost recklessly, as if the sheer velocity and the biting wind whipping against her flushed skin could numb the sharp sting beneath her breasts.
She landed hard on a tal tower beam, the shock echoing through the cold structure. Her body swayed, but her feet stayed planted. She inhaled deeply, her chest heaving violently against the tight spandex of her suit, highlighting the rapid, shallow rhythm of her breathing.
"Haah."
Then, silence.
The wind tousled her hair, and the last flickers of purple faded from her skin as she gripped her chest—right over her frantically beating heart.
"I knew it," she muttered bitterly, her lips trembling slightly. "I knew he’d do it again..."
Tears didn’t co. She didn’t allow them. But the heat in her chest burned hotter than any fla she could conjure, a ssy cocktail of righteous frustration and a dark, twisting jealousy she refused to fully acknowledge.
Not because she was madly in love—but because she was exhausted. Tired of having her trust shattered, over and over.
Even though it was just him being him—flirting effortlessly at that restaurant, his gaze lingering a little too long on a waitress’s legs, saying sothing ridiculous to the owner about dowries, and then again with one or two won they t along the journey—it was always right under her nose.
He had asked her out on a date, making her stomach flutter against her will, while simultaneously crushing any fragile hope she had for sothing real... and then did the exact sa thing again.
She wasn’t angry out of pure romantic desperation. Her love for him had never been that deep to begin with. But the issue was how she always believed him. Every damn ti he looked at her with those dark, knowing eyes.
And he always proved her wrong.
But this ti felt different. The betrayal felt physical.
Her rigid, justice-driven mind clashed violently with the softer part of her that still hoped—hoped he might change, even just a little.
Not out of blind love, but because of the bond they’d built through their past conversations, their dates, the shared monts where the tension between them had felt thick enough to cut with a knife.
Her heart had always leaned toward trusting him, drawn to his undeniable magnetism.
And it got betrayed. Again. Just like it had with his constant, teasing remarks.
’Ytrisia, do you want to go on a date with ?’ ’Ytrisia, bring sothing to eat for ...’
Hundreds of such lines echoed in her mind. He said them so casually, his voice dipping into that low, persuasive register that always sent a subtle shiver down her spine. And she—complicated as her feelings were—believed him every ti.
Bringing him food. Talking to him. The attention he gave her—flirtatious or not—sparked sothing deep inside her. Maybe even sothing real.
Because, as they say, people can grow attached to even a dog... if they spend enough ti with it.
Until last night.
That dog did sothing doggy again.
She had learned what happened at the hospital from the doctor’s grim expression when she handed her the report. From that alone, she could vividly guess what had gone down behind those closed doors with Seleyena. The flushed skin, the heavy breathing, the slick friction of skin against skin required to forcefully stabilize a woman entirely consud by lust.
Now, one cruel question kept looping in her mind like a curse:
Did he do it just because he had to... or because he wanted to?
Her sense of justice scread: He saved a life. That woman’s body would’ve given out. She would’ve died from the sheer agonizing heat of the hormonal collapse.
But her heart whispered, accompanied by a sick twisting in her gut: He enjoyed it. You know he did. He enjoyed burying himself in her. Just like always.
She closed her eyes tightly, her body trembling with frustration. "I hate this... I hate him... for making feel like this..."
A pause.
No. That wasn’t the truth.
She didn’t hate him.
She hated herself—for still hoping.
Still believing.
But this... this was just enough.
"He did it to save a life," she said aloud, letting the words wrap around her chaotic thoughts, desperately trying to convince herself. "Even if it hurts ... it wasn’t selfish. It wasn’t for his own pleasure. Not this ti."
She breathed in deep, the cool night air expanding her lungs and cooling the sweat on her neck.
And exhaled.
"One more chance," she murmured, her voice softening. "I’ll give him one more chance—"
Her voice trailed off. She was still trying to believe that whatever Cruxius did, he did it for the greater good. That there were no dark, ulterior motives driving his hips. But as she turned, preparing to leap back toward the estate—
The city around her lit up with harsh, blinding flashes.
She froze.
All the massive digital screens across the skyscrapers flared to life, like synchronized beacons cutting through the dark.
> BREAKING NEWS: HERO ASSOCIATION’S EVENTIDE ATTACKS HEIR OF BLAC CORPORATION.
> CCTV FOOTAGE RELEASED – HERO TURNED ASSASSIN?
> LIVE NOW: CITYWIDE ERGENCY RESPONSE
As the blazing red headlines reflected in her wide eyes, CCTV footage began to play—blurry and low-quality, but unmistakable. It showed the exact mont Eventide had rcilessly attacked Cruxius... the sa mont Ytrisia had thrown herself into the fray to stop her.
In the end, they had solved the misunderstanding privately. It was a mistake. Eventide’s true target was the corrupt dean of the hospital.
That revelation had given Ytrisia so much-needed ntal clarity about her association. But now, with the raw footage leaked and made dangerously public, the odds of retaliation were astronomical. The Association would act fast—and they wouldn’t hold back next ti.
They’d go after Cruxius.
"N-no... why did he..." she whispered, her breath hitching in her throat.
The damage to the influencer’s reputation was massive. The footage made it look like Cruxius was openly targeting the Hero Association. The situation was far worse than she had anticipated. They were cornered now—like a wild cat. And a cornered cat will scratch violently.
With no path for diplomacy or escape, they’d bypass the red tape and go straight for him.
Her body spun around again, glowing bright with a sudden, fierce athyst light. Sharp energy surged through her veins, making her muscles twitch with adrenaline. And then she leapt—sprinting back in the direction she ca from, the wind tearing at her suit as she pushed herself to the absolute limit, desperate to reach Cruxius before it was too late.
As she moved, her heart pounding relentlessly against her ribs, one singular, desperate thought consud her mind:
’I hate you, CRUXIUS BLAC!’
Unknown Location,
The hidden basent humd softly with the constant, low whir of high-end computers and cooling fans. Neon LED strips pulsed lazily around the edges of the cluttered room, throwing streaks of moody blue and purple light across tangled cables, open servers, and discarded snack wrappers.
The heavy, soundproofed door creaked open.
Nano stepped in, clutching a cold, condensation-beaded can of soda against her warm cheek. Her oversized hoodie hung loosely off one shoulder, exposing the soft, pale slope of her collarbone and the thin, dark strap of her undershirt clinging to her skin. She sighed, nudging the door shut with her hip, her heavy combat boots crunching softly over stray motherboard pieces scattered on the floor.
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