Chapter 41: A Predator Amongst Prey

The air in the grand banquet hall remained thick with tension even after Brandon and his men backed away. But Jackim knew better. This wasn't the end of their hostility—only a brief pause.

And yet, the real threat stood in front of him.

Damian Rothschild.

.....

Damian took a slow sip of his wine, studying Jackim like a predator analyzing its prey. His demeanor was relaxed, but there was an unmistakable weight behind his gaze—one that sent entire business empires into panic with just a single look.

Jackim met his eyes without flinching.

That seemed to amuse Damian.

"You don't scare easily, do you?" he mused.

Jackim smirked. "Should I?"

Damian chuckled, shaking his head. "Interesting." He set his glass down and leaned in slightly. "You're either fearless or a fool. I haven't decided which yet."

Jackim crossed his arms. "And what are you? A judge?"

Damian smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Something like that."

,...

The music continued to play, the murmurs of the crowd filling the space around them, but Jackim knew that all eyes were still on this exchange.

"You danced with Elara," Damian said after a pause.

Jackim raised an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"

Damian tilted his head. "Not for me." His smile turned sharp. "But for you? It might be."

Jackim held back a sigh. He was getting tired of people thinking they could intimidate him just because he wasn't from their world.

"I don't believe in fate," Damian continued, swirling the wine in his glass. "But coincidences? Those I pay attention to."

Jackim stayed silent, letting Damian talk.

"The moment you stepped into this hall, you disrupted the natural order of things. The girl you danced with? She's not just anyone. She's the type of woman who can shape the future of entire families with a single word."

Jackim shrugged. "So?"

Damian smirked. "So… don't mistake a dance for an invitation."

Jackim's lips curled slightly. "And don't mistake my silence for submission."

For the first time, Damian's expression shifted ever so slightly. Surprise? Amusement? It was hard to tell.

Then, he let out a low chuckle.

"I see," Damian murmured. "You really are something else."

He straightened, brushing invisible dust off his suit. "Enjoy the party, Jackim. But be careful." His gaze darkened. "Not everyone in this room plays fair."

With that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the sea of silk gowns and tailored suits.

Jackim exhaled slowly.

The real games had just begun.

...

Jackim was about to step away from the bar when a voice whispered near his ear.

"You really don't know how to stay low-profile, do you?"

Jackim turned sharply.

Maggy.

Dressed in a sleek black dress, she looked nothing like the rough, street-smart girl he had met years ago. Yet, the sharp glint in her eyes remained unchanged.

Jackim smirked. "Nice to see you too."

Maggy crossed her arms. "You're making enemies faster than I expected."

Jackim shrugged. "It's a talent."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Do you even know who you just went toe-to-toe with?"

Jackim leaned against the bar. "Educate me."

Maggy's voice lowered. "Damian Rothschild isn't just some rich heir. He's the future leader of one of the most powerful underground factions in the city."

Jackim frowned slightly. "And Elara?"

Maggy hesitated. "She's… complicated. Some say she's untouchable. Others say she's a pawn in a game none of us can see yet."

Jackim processed the information in silence.

Maggy watched him. "You're walking into a fire, Jackim."

He smiled. "Then let's see who burns first."

Maggy sighed but didn't argue. She knew Jackim too well.

.....

The banquet continued, but Jackim's mind was elsewhere.

This wasn't just about wealth anymore.

It was about power.

And for the first time, Jackim realized—he wasn't just a spectator.

He was a player.