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Hotel Paradise-VIP Room
The heavy door burst open with a violent crack, slamming against the wall. Noah strode in, his aura dark and suffocating. But his eyes swept the room only once before narrowing-Yunah wasn't there. Neither was Arav.
On the couch, Director Yuvraj lounged half-drunk, an escort girl draped over his arm. His bleary eyes sharpened with annoyance at the intrusion.
"Who the hell are you?" Yuvraj snapped, his words slurred with alcohol but laced with arrogance. "How dare you barge in here? Do you know who I am?" He lifted his wine glass and took a slow sip as though mocking Noah.
Noah's lips curved into a cold, devilish smirk, his eyes gleaming like a predator sizing up prey. His voice cut through the air, calm but deadly.
"You'll know soon enough who I am."
The escorts whimpered, clutching each other as Noah's presence pressed down on them like a storm. He turned slightly, his coat swaying, and addressed his men without sparing Yuvraj another glance.
"Take him," Noah ordered, his tone sharp and absolute. "And find Arav. Bring both of them to headquarters. Alive."
His men moved instantly. One struck Yuvraj across the jaw, knocking him sideways. The others pinned him before he could react, binding his wrists with brutal efficiency.
"Wh-what the–! You can't do this! Do you know who I am?! I'll ruin you–" Yuvraj's voice cracked into a scream as a fist silenced him.
The escort girls shrieked and bolted for the door, stumbling in their heels, begging for mercy. The room descended into chaos–but Noah didn't even turn back.
He was already walking away, his blood-stained hand trailing across the doorframe as he exited, his cold smirk lingering like a curse in the air.
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Hotel Corridor, Outside the VIP Wing
Noah stalked through the corridor, his bloodied hand dripping onto the marble floor with every step. He didn't care. The sting of torn flesh meant nothing–only Yunah mattered right now. His aura was so heavy that guests and staff scattered out of his way, lowering their heads to avoid his gaze.
From the shadows, a man broke through the fear-choked air. Eren Limbu–sharp-eyed, loyal, and the only one reckless enough to step in Noah's path when he was like this.
Without hesitation, Eren caught Noah's injured hand. Blood smeared across his palm, but he didn't flinch. "Look at yourself," he said, voice low but steady, as if speaking to a caged beast. "If your brother hears you've lost control again, he'll go straight to the Master and demand your release."
Eren pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, binding the wound with quick, precise movements.
Noah jerked his hand away, his expression like ice. "How did you know I was here?"
Eren's lips curved faintly, almost mocking. "I have my ways. You told me not to report everything to your brother–but don't fool yourself. He watches you because he cares. Because he blames himself for what you're doing–for what you've become."
For a moment, silence hung heavy. Then Noah's gaze locked onto Eren's, cold and unyielding. "Tell him this–he doesn't need to feel guilty. I chose this path. I chose to follow Grandfather. I chose to become the next leader of Shadowveil." His voice sharpened, cutting like a blade. "And you–stop following me. I've tolerated you because you serve my brother. But push me again, Eren, and a warning won't be the only thing you get."
He brushed past, leaving the sharp scent of blood and fury in his wake. The crowd outside parted instantly, terrified of the storm blazing in his eyes.
Eren stood frozen, staring at Noah's retreating back. He knew better than to chase him when Noah's temper flared like this. Instead, he sighed and lifted his phone, speaking into it grimly.
"I can't stop him. Yuvraj is already in his hands, and Arav won't escape either. If you want to rein him in, you'll have to do it yourself."
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When Noah didn't find Yunah anywhere outside the hotel, a rare panic gnawed at him. He clenched his jaw, forced his voice steady, and dialed her number.
After what felt like forever, the line clicked, and relief washed through him when she finally answered.
"Di… where are you?" His voice was softer than he intended, the edge in his aura melting instantly.
On the other end, Yunah's giggles spilled through the line. The sound made Noah's brows knit–part relief, part confusion.
"…Are you drunk?" His tone sharpened with suspicion, laced with concern.
"Who? Me? Pfft–nooo… I'm perfectly fine." Her words slurred, betraying her lie.
"Where are you? Tell me the address. I'll come get you." Noah was already striding toward the parking lot, grip tightening on his phone.
"I? Where I'm…?" She laughed, then turned to someone beside her. "Hello, mister, where am I? Hic… hic…"
A man's voice came through, slightly amused. "Aiyoo… this girl drank so much she doesn't even know where she is. She's at International Park. Totally wasted."
Noah didn't waste a second. He started the engine, the car roaring as he sped through the streets. His chest tightened with every passing moment, each second stretching unbearably.
At the park, he abandoned the car and sprinted inside, eyes scanning wildly. His pulse thundered until–finally–he saw her.
Yunah lay sprawled across a bench, an empty beer bottle clutched tightly in her hand. Her heels lay discarded on the ground, her hair a tangled mess.
Noah exhaled, half relieved, half amused. Despite her state, she looked… absurdly cute. He squatted in front of her, reaching for the bottle, but she tightened her grip, glaring.
A quiet laugh slipped from him. "Di… you can't keep hugging an empty beer bottle like that. Hand it over." His tone was unusually gentle, coaxing.
"No! It's my prize." She pouted, cheeks puffed, eyes hazy but stubborn. "How dare you call my prize a beer bottle?"
Noah's lips curved into a rare smile. He brushed back her messy hair with tender fingers. "My mistake. You're right—it's not a beer bottle. It's your prize. But let me keep it safe for you, hmm?" His voice was soft, honeyed, laced with something unspoken.
"I won't give my prize to anyone!" she snapped in her drunkard's voice, hugging it tighter.
"Fine." He stood, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "I won't ask again. But let's go home."
She blinked at him, then nodded like an obedient child. "Hmm…"
Noah bent down, picked up her heels, and without hesitation, knelt in front of her. When he reached for her ankle, Yunah jerked her leg back, her face flushing crimson. Whether from the alcohol or his gesture–she couldn't tell.
But Noah didn't pause. He looked up at her, voice low and unyielding. "Let me put it on you."
His touch was careful, almost reverent, as he slid the heel onto her foot. Yunah's heart lurched. The steady rhythm in her chest turned wild, hammering painfully fast. She pressed her palm against her heart, whispering to herself in a drunken haze.
"…What's happening to me?"
Noah's sharp ears caught her murmur. "Hm? Did you say something?" His eyes lifted, piercing into hers.
Yunah shook her head quickly, but it was too late. Noah had already risen, offering her his hand.
She placed hers in his. Cold, yet it wrapped her in warmth. And when she looked up, their gazes locked.
Yunah froze. That wasn't the look of a brother. It was the gaze of a man–a man claiming, wanting.
Noah's eyes lingered on her like fire licking at her skin, burning with possession. It was the gaze of a predator staring at what was already his.
Yunah pushed his hand away, her voice slurring but stubborn. "I can walk by myself. I don't need anyone's help." She staggered forward, still clutching the empty beer bottle like it was a trophy.
"Di—" Noah caught her wrist, his grip gentle, almost pleading. "I know you can. But I want to help you."
"I don't need help from any guy!" she snapped, shaking him off and stumbling ahead. Her heel caught the edge of the path, nearly sending her to the ground. She threw her head back and shouted, "All men are dogs!...even dogs are better than a men."
Heads turned. A few men in the park muttered under their breath, some smirking, others offended.
Noah's eyes darkened. In two strides, he was behind her, covering her mouth with his hand before her words drew more attention. "Enough," he whispered harshly, his voice like ice. Then, without giving her a chance to protest, he lifted her into his arms and strode toward the car.
At the car, he opened the door and settled her inside. Strands of her messy hair clung to her flushed face, and Noah brushed them aside, his touch unexpectedly tender.
A low chuckle escaped him. "I never imagined you'd turn into such a troublemaker," he murmured. "You're nothing like what I pictured… but I think I like this side of you even more."
She didn't hear him–her head had already tilted to the side, eyes closed, breathing steady.
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The ride was silent except for the hum of the engine. Yunah leaned against the window, a faint, drunken smile tugging at her lips. She looked peaceful, as if the chaos of earlier had been nothing but a bad dream.
Noah gripped the wheel tightly, his gaze flicking to her reflection in the rearview mirror. His knuckles whitened, the bandage on his hand darkening with fresh blood.
When they reached her apartment, Noah stepped out and opened her door. "We're here," he said quietly.
She stirred, blinking as though waking from a dream. Her legs wobbled when she tried to stand, and without hesitation, Noah slid an arm around her waist, steadying her. She sagged against him, muttering words too soft to catch.
He held her close all the way to the door, where he pressed the bell. Moments later, Yogesh opened it. His eyes widened at the sight before hardening immediately.
"What happened to her?" Yogesh's voice was sharp as he pulled Yunah into his arms. He wrinkled his nose. "God, she reeks of alcohol!"
"I found her at International Park," Noah replied evenly, though his gaze lingered on Yunah. "I brought her back before something worse could happen. Take care of her."
Yogesh's jaw clenched. "This girl… how could she–" he cut himself off, shaking his head. He looked back at Noah, his expression softening just enough. "Thanks. For bringing her home."
Noah gave a curt nod. "Hmm."
As the door closed, Noah stood alone in the dim corridor, his shadow stretched long against the wall. His bandaged fist clenched until blood seeped through, the storm in his eyes unrelenting.
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At Shadowveil Headquarters.
The dimly lit corridors of Shadowveil echoed with silence as Noah strode in, his men bowing their heads in reverence. His presence was heavy, suffocating–like a storm barely held back. Without sparing them a glance, he made his way into the torture chamber.
Inside, Director Yuvraj and Arav sat bound to chairs, their faces pale, drenched in sweat. The metallic stench of fear hung thick in the air. Noah walked past them without a word and lowered himself into the chair opposite, his posture calm, almost regal, like a king about to pass judgment.
Yuvraj's voice cracked as he stammered, "Y-You… you're the leader of Shadowveil?..A Kid?"
Noah scoffed, slipping on a pair of black leather gloves with deliberate slowness. His cold smirk cut through the room.
"So now you finally realize who stands before you. And this kid can kill you with one blow...."
Arav's trembling voice broke the silence. "Why… why are you doing this? What have we done to deserve this?"
Everyone knew the Shadowveil gang existed. Everyone feared their name. But few had seen the face of its leader–the one whispered to be merciless even among monsters. And what even more surprising is that the leader of shadowveil gang is an eighteen year old boy. Which was terrifying to know.
Noah scoffed again, this time his eyes sharpening into a glare that could freeze blood.
"What you've done?" His voice dropped, laced with venom. He rose from his seat, the air thickening as his killing intent spilled into the room.
He moved to Arav, crouched before him, and untied his hand with a chilling calm. Grabbing it firmly, Noah tilted his head, his gaze gleaming with something unhinged.
"This hand… this filthy hand…" his grip tightened, "is the same one you dared to raise against her, isn't it?"
Arav blinked in confusion, then realization struck. His eyes widened. "Y-Yunah? She… who is she to you?"
Noah's lips curved into a dangerous smile, though his eyes burned with madness.
"Who is she to me?" He twisted Arav's wrist sharply, a sickening crack tearing through the room as Arav screamed. Noah leaned closer, his voice a cold whisper dripping with rage."She is my everything. And you…" He bent the wrist further until bone snapped, Arav's howl echoing off the walls. "…you dared to lay a finger on her."
Yuvraj's legs shook violently as he watched, terror painting every line of his face.
Noah turned his gaze on him, and Yuvraj instantly fell to his knees despite being tied, begging, sobbing, "Please… please, I'll do anything. Don't kill me–"
But Noah's expression didn't change. He seized Yuvraj's trembling hand, his grip merciless.
"One by one," he muttered, almost to himself, before snapping the first finger. Yuvraj's scream tore through the chamber. Noah didn't flinch.
Second finger. Snap.
Third. Snap.
Each break echoed like the ticking of a clock counting down to hell.
By the time Noah dropped his hand, Yuvraj was convulsing with pain, tears streaming down his face, his voice hoarse from screaming.
Noah turned, his coat brushing against the floor as he walked to the door. His men straightened immediately.
"Lock them in the prisoner's wing," Noah ordered, his tone like ice. "Keep them breathing–but make their lives a living hell. Make them beg for death."
"Yes, Young Master," his men chorused.
Without another glance back, Noah disappeared into the corridor, his aura still lingering–thick, terrifying, unforgettable.
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At Serenity Villa.
The villa was cloaked in silence, its dark living room echoing only with the measured sound of Noah's footsteps. Each step was deliberate, cautious. His sharp gaze swept across the shadows, instincts prickling–someone was here.
He slowed, shoulders tense, every nerve on edge. The air itself seemed heavier, charged with an unseen presence.
Then–click.
Cold steel pressed against the back of his head. A shadow loomed close, the muzzle of a gun digging into his skull.
"Got you…" a low voice whispered, breath brushing against his ear.