POV: Keifer
If someone had told me my day would include:
• My biological father invading our house
• Masked criminals redecorating the living room with weapons
• A woman calling me baby
• And me being used as furniture
I would have stayed upstairs.
Forever.
The moment I heard Kaizer's voice downstairs, my mood dropped to negative numbers.
Of course he didn't knock.
Knocking requires manners.
Kaizer Watson and manners have never met.
I walked down the stairs and saw him sitting on our couch like he owned oxygen.
My jaw tightened.
Then I saw them.
Four masked people.
Black outfits.
Calm.
Too calm.
Something about them felt… controlled.
Kaizer smiled at me.
"Wow, son. You've grown taller."
I pushed him.
"I'm not your son."
And then his men pointed guns at me.
Fantastic.
Just a normal Tuesday.
Before I could react—
A fork flew out of nowhere.
It hit one of the men's hands.
He screamed.
The gun dropped.
I blinked.
Who throws a fork like that?
I looked at the masked woman.
Luna Byte.
She moved like she had already calculated everyone's heartbeat.
"Drop your guns," she said.
Her voice had a different accent.
Sharp. Smooth. Not local.
The men listened.
I hated that.
She walked toward my father like she was reviewing a disappointing employee.
Then she turned to me.
And lifted my chin.
Excuse me?
I moved away instantly.
Don't touch me.
She sat down like this was entertainment.
Then said, "Your son is handsome. I'll take him too."
I almost laughed.
Take me where?
The mall?
Prison?
Therapy?
And my father said, "No problem."
Excuse me again???
Then she grabbed my hand.
Tried to move me.
I didn't move.
She pulled out a gun.
"Move."
I didn't.
She shot the floor an inch from my leg.
I moved.
Not because I was scared.
Because I enjoy walking.
Voluntarily.
She dragged me to the couch.
Made me sit.
Put her hand on my shoulder.
"Your son is my type."
I removed her hand immediately.
"Well, you are not my type."
Under the mask, I swear she smiled.
Annoying woman.
Then she rested her head on my lap later.
On my lap.
Like I'm a pillow.
Do I look like a cushion?
Should I start charging per hour?
My brain:
Why are you calm?
Do something.
Push her.
Move.
Breathe.
But I stayed still.
Because shooting people tends to escalate situations.
When Night Byte started speaking, his voice was distorted.
Deep. Mechanical.
Cold.
When Dylan grabbed him and called him kid, something happened.
Night Byte went still.
Too still.
"Don't. Ever. Call me kid."
The way he said it…
For half a second, I thought of Hex.
Because Hex once said something similar when someone joked about his height.
But I brushed it off immediately.
Hex?
Please.
Hex can't even open a jar without struggling.
Hex fighting like that? Impossible.
Night Byte dropped Dylan like a sack of potatoes.
Jump kicked him.
Pinned him.
I stared.
Okay.
Maybe Hex could… no.
No.
Stop.
Focus.
Not everything is about Hex.
Night Byte started counting.
"1."
Even I felt that one.
"2."
Why is it colder?
"3… 4."
Two knives flew and landed near the men's faces.
I blinked.
Excuse me.
Where did he even pull those from?
By "5," three men ran.
By "7," the rest left.
And my father called them cowards.
Night Byte said they were smart.
Honestly?
He wasn't wrong.
Then Luna Byte just casually sat there like this was a business meeting.
Which it technically was.
Except my father signed something without reading it.
I closed my eyes for a second.
How did this man raise himself to adulthood?
He lost everything because he didn't read.
That is peak tragedy.
When the contract was explained and he realized he had no rights over Mom's company, his face looked like someone unplugged his brain.
Good.
Deserved.
When he left, the house felt lighter.
Mom thanked them.
Luna Byte stood up.
"Just Luna."
Then she said she'd accept me as payment.
Excuse me for the third time today.
"No way," I told her. "And never touch me, call me baby, or lie on my lap again."
I walked upstairs before she could respond.
Because if I stayed, I might say something worse.
Now I'm in my room.
Thinking.
Annoyed.
That woman.
Who does she think she is?
Walking in.
Shooting near my leg.
Calling me baby.
Using my lap.
Saying I'm her type.
And why did she get so angry when the gun was pointed at me?
She reacted before anyone else.
Too fast.
Too protective.
Like she—
No.
Stop.
Don't overthink.
She's just dramatic.
Dangerous.
Annoying.
Confident.
And—
No.
Absolutely not.
She is not my type.
At all.
Not even slightly.
Not even 1%.
…Maybe 0.5%.
No.
Zero.
Definitely zero.
Why am I thinking about her voice?
Why did it sound familiar for one second?
Why did Night Byte remind me of Hex?
Hex can't fight.
Hex sleeps in class.
Hex complains about six hours of sleep.
Night Byte throws knives like he was born in a ninja dojo.
Impossible.
Still.
The way he said "Don't ever call me kid."
…
No.
I'm overthinking.
Conclusion:
Kaizer is reckless.
Luna Byte is irritating.
Night Byte is dangerous.
And I need a new couch.
Because I'm never sitting there again.
End of Chapter 103. 🔥