Chapter 51: The Aftermath of the Invitation

Ethan Cross sat in his shabby apartment, the dim light casting long shadows against the walls. The night had been eventful, and he was still processing everything that had unfolded at Kairos' so-called 'exclusive' party.

He had walked in knowing he would be dealing with arrogant elites who believed money made them invincible. He had left making it clear they were nothing but peasants in his eyes. The looks on their faces when he revealed that the true power players—Viper, General Manager James, and other unseen titans of the financial world—worked for him? Priceless. The so-called billionaires at the table had been silenced, their pride crumbling as reality hit them. They were merely insects compared to the forces he controlled.

Kairos, of course, had tried to maintain his composure. He had smirked, had acted unfazed. But Ethan had seen through it. The way his fingers twitched, the slight clench of his jaw—it had been enough to confirm what Ethan already knew.

Kairos was rattled.

And that was exactly what Ethan wanted.

Now, as he leaned back against his couch, staring at the ceiling, his phone vibrated on the table. He glanced at the caller ID and smirked.

Myra Langford.

His well-contracted fiancée.

He picked up the phone, putting it on speaker. "Miss Langford. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Drop the formalities, Ethan." Her voice was sharp but with a touch of amusement. "You already know why I'm calling."

Ethan chuckled. "Do I?"

There was a pause. Then, with a sigh, she said, "When are you taking me on our agreed first date?"

He let the silence stretch for a moment, considering his response. Myra wasn't the type to ask twice. The fact that she was bringing it up now meant she was genuinely expecting an answer.

"Soon," he finally said. "I had some business to take care of first."

"Ah, you mean crashing Kairos Westwood's little party and humiliating a room full of billionaires?" she mused, her voice dripping with amusement.

Ethan smirked. "Word travels fast."

"You should know by now that nothing you do goes unnoticed," she said. "Besides, when you make that kind of statement, it sends ripples. So tell me, was it worth it?"

"Absolutely."

Myra chuckled. "You really enjoy shaking things up, don't you?"

Ethan shrugged, even though she couldn't see him. "It keeps things interesting."

"Well, since you're done playing games with the so-called elites, maybe you can make time for our date?" she pressed.

He glanced at the clock. It was late, but not too late.

"Tomorrow," he said. "I'll pick you up."

"Bold of you to assume I'll be free," she teased.

Ethan smirked. "You wouldn't have called if you weren't."

There was a soft laugh on the other end. "Touché. Fine, tomorrow it is. Impress me, Cross."

"I always do."

She ended the call, and Ethan set his phone down, his mind already calculating his next moves. Myra Langford was no ordinary woman—she was sharp, powerful, and undeniably dangerous in her own way. Their engagement wasn't built on love, but on mutual benefit. A calculated move between two powerhouses.

And he had every intention of making sure he remained in control of that dynamic.

The Next Morning

Ethan woke up to multiple notifications on his phone. Some were business-related, others were messages from his anonymous online presence, Fleeting Fable. The internet was still buzzing about the party.

He smirked as he read some of the posts:

Who the hell is Fleeting Fable?

That dude walked into a room full of billionaires and made them look like broke college students. WILD.

Young Master K got humbled in real-time. Is this the fall of Kairos Westwood?

Ethan knew the storm was just beginning. Kairos wouldn't let this slide. He was prideful, desperate to maintain his image. But the difference between them was simple.

Ethan didn't care about image.

He cared about power.

And he had far more than Kairos could ever dream of.

As he scrolled through his messages, he noticed one from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: You've made enemies, Fable. Watch your back.

Ethan smirked. "Oh, how predictable."

He wasn't worried. Threats were nothing new. If anything, they only proved that he was doing something right.

His phone buzzed again—this time, a message from Myra.

Myra: Don't be late.

Ethan chuckled, rising from his seat. He had a date to prepare for. And while most men would be intimidated by the idea of trying to impress Myra Langford, Ethan Cross wasn't most men.

If anything, it was Myra who should be making sure she impressed him.

Evening - The Date

Dressed in a sleek, custom-tailored suit, Ethan pulled up to Myra's residence in an understated but undeniably luxurious black car. He stepped out just as Myra descended the stairs, her every step exuding confidence.

She was breathtaking, as always. Her fitted red dress clung to her figure in all the right ways, her gaze sharp and assessing as she took him in.

"You clean up well," she said.

Ethan smirked. "And here I thought you liked me rugged."

She raised an eyebrow. "I like men who can adapt."

He extended a hand. "Shall we?"

She took it, allowing him to lead her to the car. As they drove, Myra glanced at him. "So? Where are you taking me?"

Ethan's lips curved into a knowing smirk. "Somewhere only a select few ever get to experience."

Intrigued, she leaned back. "Surprise me."