Chapter 82: A Fatal Mistake

The night was supposed to be a celebration—a gathering of the most powerful individuals, securing once-in-a-lifetime deals with Blackwood. But in a single moment, one man's pride shattered everything.

Chris, still disguised as one of the workers, moved discreetly through the crowd, blending in as he observed the elite. His movements were careful, but as he turned, his glass of champagne accidentally tipped forward.

A small splash landed on Samuel Vance's sleeve.

At first, it seemed like nothing.

But then—

Samuel's expression darkened. His jaw tightened as he looked at the stain on his designer suit, his eyes narrowing in fury.

The murmurs around them faded as those nearby sensed the shift in tension.

Chris barely had time to register what was happening before Samuel lashed out.

A sudden, brutal punch connected with his jaw, the force knocking him backward into a nearby table. Glasses toppled, liquid spilled, and a few gasps echoed in the hall.

Silence.

The entire room froze.

Samuel Vance—one of the wealthiest and most influential figures present—had just attacked a worker.

Or so he thought.

Chris slowly straightened, his hand brushing over his jaw where blood dotted his fingers. His gaze locked onto Samuel, but his expression remained unreadable.

Before he could react, Ethan's voice cut through the silence like a blade.

"Security."

The command was calm, but absolute.

Two guards immediately stepped forward, positioning themselves near Samuel.

Ethan took a slow step forward, his presence alone enough to make the crowd hold their breath. His cold, calculating gaze settled on Samuel.

"Mr. Vance," he said smoothly, "it seems you've forgotten where you are."

Samuel clenched his fists, still fuming. "That nobody spilled his drink on me—"

Ethan raised a hand, silencing him.

"There are certain lines one does not cross, no matter how much money or power they think they hold." His voice remained eerily calm, but there was a dangerous undertone. "And striking a Blackwood worker at a Blackwood event?"

He let the weight of his words sink in.

Samuel's face paled slightly.

Then Ethan delivered the final blow.

"Effective immediately—your deal with Blackwood is canceled."

The reaction was instant.

A wave of shocked murmurs swept through the crowd. The other elites—many of whom had secured contracts worth billions tonight—took a visible step away from Samuel.

"No—Ethan, wait!" Samuel's voice rose, his anger now replaced with desperation. "You can't—That deal was worth billions!"

Ethan tilted his head. "And now it's worth nothing."

Samuel turned wildly, looking to the other powerful figures around him for support, but they all avoided his gaze. No one would stand up to Blackwood for him.

He turned back to Ethan. "This is insane! That was a hundred-billion-dollar contract!"

Ethan's expression was impassive. "It was. Now, it doesn't exist."

Chris, watching the scene unfold, finally smirked. One moment of unchecked rage, and Samuel had lost everything.

The guards stepped in, escorting Samuel toward the exit. He struggled at first, but it was over.

As he was dragged out, his voice rang through the hall.

"You're making a mistake, Ethan! Blackwood will regret this!"

Ethan didn't even spare him a second glance.

Instead, he turned back to the crowd, adjusting his cufflinks before speaking smoothly.

"Now then, ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice returning to its usual composed charm, "please—enjoy the rest of the evening."

With that, the tension broke. The music resumed, the conversations restarted, and Samuel Vance's downfall became just another forgotten moment in the grand scheme of power.

Chris took another sip of champagne, leaning slightly toward Ethan.

"That was brutal,"he murmured, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Ethan smirked. "No. That was Blackwood."