Taking his latest model BMW, Simon didn't care about the traffic rules. Finding that poor peasant and making him kneel before him was the only thing running through his mind. He started planning how to make Xander pay for his mistakes, imagining methods of torture. He wanted to break his bones and separate his limbs from his body; he wanted Xander to know exactly who he was dealing with.
Simon's mind was so consumed by rage that he didn't care about anything else. He contemplated how, once Xander saw his luxury car, the delivery boy would be on his knees begging—though Simon had no intention of granting him mercy.
Inside the Avery mansion, the family was seated. The Old Master sat in his wheelchair, breathing in the aroma of his 'vital stem cell coffee' and sipping it little by little from his jade-like cup. He felt he had nothing left to worry about in this world; the only thing he had ever wanted was for his granddaughters to live a peaceful life with men who would value and respect them. But his eldest granddaughter had completely ruined that.
Tezzy, Zeenat's sister, was busy chatting with her online boyfriend, whom she had dated for six years without ever meeting in real life. She didn't know what this gentleman looked like, just as he didn't know what Tezzy looked like.
"Where is that Xander?! How dare he buy people to bankrupt my family business?!" Simon shouted as he burst into the room. He didn't care about showing respect to anyone here; after all, he was still from the powerful Powell family.
"Sweetheart, we can't find him. We're sorry! He left, and his number is out of service," Zeenat said, rushing to his side.
"Don't give me that crap! I won't buy it," Simon yelled. "He was your fiancé and you've been engaged for two years. How can you not know anything about him? I want to know his home village. I will go there myself if I have to!"
"Simon Powell, the problem is we really don't know his people or his village," Tezzy said from the couch.
"What?! You don't know his people? You don't know his real identity?" Simon was getting heavily worked up. "What if his face was fake? What if his name was a lie?"
"Go and tell your grandfather that I am very sorry for what my granddaughter has caused the Powell family," Old Master Avery said coldly from his wheelchair.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart... so very sorry," Zeenat wept, clutching Simon's arm.
Before they could even process the situation, the news broke.
The billion-dollar empire known as the Powell Group was officially announced bankrupt. It took less than twelve hours.
The shocking news was everywhere—flooding the newspapers, breaking into TV and radio stations, and dominating every social media platform. Simon stared at his phone in absolute disbelief. Xander had caused their entire legacy to crumble so effortlessly.
He recalled how calmly Xander had spoken to him and Zeenat in the restaurant. Now he finally understood why the man hadn't fought, shouted, cried, or begged. He had simply said: "Make sure you don't regret today." Just like that, and he had walked away.
Xander was a man who didn't need physical violence to destroy his enemies; he could crush them financially without ever lifting a finger.
Simon looked at Zeenat, a sudden wave of pure regret washing over him. This woman had brought about the total downfall of the Powell family. He would live to rue the day he ever met her—and because of that, he decided he would still marry this foolish woman, just to make her suffer alongside him in poverty.
Option 2: Light Flow Edit
This version sharpens the prose, highlights Simon's transition from arrogant to broken, and cleans up the description of Xander's non-physical power.
Slamming his foot onto the gas pedal of his latest-model BMW, Simon tore through the city streets, completely ignoring the traffic laws. Only one thought consumed his mind: finding that arrogant peasant and forcing him to kneel. As he wove through traffic, he mapped out exactly how he would make Xander pay. He visualized the torture, imagining breaking the delivery boy's bones and tearing his limbs apart. He wanted Xander to understand the absolute power of the Powell family.
In his arrogance, Simon was certain that the moment Xander saw his luxury car, the boy would throw himself to the ground and beg for mercy. But Simon had no intention of being merciful.
Meanwhile, a tense silence filled the Avery mansion. The Old Master sat in his wheelchair, sipping slowly from a jade-like cup, inhaling the rich aroma of his specialized coffee. He had reached an age where he should have had no worries left in the world. His only remaining wish had been for his granddaughters to marry honorable men who would respect them. Yet, his eldest granddaughter had blindly thrown that future away.
Nearby, Tezzy was completely tuned out, her fingers flying across her phone screen as she texted her online boyfriend. They had been dating for six long years but had never met face-to-face. She had no idea what he looked like, and he was equally blind to her appearance, yet he was her only escape from her toxic family.
The heavy front doors burst open. "Where is Xander?!" Simon roared, storming into the living room. He didn't care about manners or who he insulted; his family's pride was on the line. "How dare that piece of trash hire people to target my family's business?!"
"Sweetheart, we've looked everywhere, but we can't find him!" Zeenat panicked, rushing to soothe him. "He packed up his things and left, and his phone line is completely disconnected!"
"Don't give me that garbage!" Simon snapped, shoving her hands away. "You were engaged to the man for two whole years! How can you stand there and tell me you know absolutely nothing about him? Give me the name of his hometown. I'll drive down there and hunt his family down myself!"
Tezzy looked up from her phone, her voice dripping with calm sarcasm. "Simon, that's the point. We don't know his family, and we don't know his village."
"What do you mean you don't know?!" Simon's chest heaved as panic began to override his anger. "You don't know his background? His real identity? What if the name he gave you was an alias? What if even his face was a mask?!"
Old Master Avery set his jade cup down with a heavy sigh. "Simon Powell, go home and tell your grandfather that I am deeply sorry for the catastrophe my granddaughter has brought upon your house."
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart... please don't be mad at me," Zeenat begged, tears streaming down her face.
Before Simon could scream at her again, every phone in the room buzzed simultaneously. The television screen in the corner flashed a bright red breaking news banner.
The Powell Group—a multi-billion-dollar corporate titan—had officially filed for bankruptcy. The entire empire had been dismantled in less than twelve hours.
The news was spreading like wildfire across every newspaper, television network, and radio station in the nation. Simon sank into a nearby chair, his face entirely drained of color. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that a man he had dismissed as a mere delivery boy possessed the terrifying power to liquidate his family's wealth overnight.
Xander's parting words echoed through his mind, chilling him to the bone. He hadn't screamed. He hadn't fought or begged. He had simply looked at them with absolute authority and said, "Make sure you don't regret today."
Xander didn't need physical weapons or brute force to destroy his enemies. His wealth was his weapon, and he had used it to completely erase the Powells from high society.
Looking up at Zeenat, Simon felt a sudden, venomous hatred. This blind, materialistic woman had single-handedly caused the ruin of his entire family. He cursed the day he had ever laid eyes on her. A dark thought crossed his mind: he would still marry her, but not out of love. He would drag her into the dirt with him and ensure she suffered every single day for what she had done.