Chapter 44: The Black Lotus Invitation

The streets of the city were alive with neon lights and the hum of late-night traffic. Jackim moved through the crowds with practiced ease, his dark hoodie blending into the shadows. Despite the grandeur of the banquet he had just left, this was where he felt most comfortable—in the streets, in the quiet corners where the powerful never bothered to look.

He clutched the small, elegant card in his hand, rereading the message once more.

"Midnight. The Black Lotus Club. Come alone."

Jackim's mind raced with possibilities. The Black Lotus wasn't just an underground club—it was a gathering place for the city's true elite, the kind of people who controlled the world behind the scenes. Some were ruthless business moguls, others were crime lords who ran the underworld. It wasn't a place where just anyone could walk in.

Yet, someone had invited him.

Was it a warning? A test? Or something worse?

Jackim took a deep breath. There were only two possibilities—either this was an opportunity, or it was a trap. Either way, he couldn't ignore it.

The entrance to the Black Lotus was almost unnoticeable, tucked between two abandoned buildings. A single unmarked door, guarded by a man built like a tank. His cold, expressionless face gave no indication of whether he would let Jackim pass or break his bones for even trying.

Jackim approached with steady steps.

The guard eyed him before speaking. "Name."

Jackim held up the card. "I was invited."

The guard examined it for a moment before stepping aside. "Welcome to the Black Lotus."

With a deep breath, Jackim stepped through the door.

The inside was nothing like he expected. Instead of a dark, smoky bar, the Black Lotus was an underground palace of luxury. Chandeliers hung low, casting dim golden light over leather-clad booths where people whispered secrets over expensive whiskey. The air was thick with power and danger, a place where one wrong move could end in disaster.

Jackim kept his expression neutral as he scanned the room. Wealthy businessmen, politicians, underworld bosses—every corner held a different kind of predator.

A waitress, dressed in a sleek black dress, approached him with a polite smile. "Mr. Jackson, right this way."

Jackim followed her through the club, past private lounges where deals were being made. Finally, she stopped in front of a secluded booth, where a single figure sat waiting.

Her emerald eyes met his as she gestured for him to sit. "You actually came. That's good."

Jackim slid into the seat across from her. "You made it sound like I didn't have a choice."

She smirked, swirling the wine in her glass. "Everyone has a choice, Jackim. But only a fool ignores an invitation like mine."

Jackim leaned back. "Then tell me—who are you, and why am I here?"

She placed her glass down and studied him carefully. "My name is Celeste Laurent. And as for why you're here… let's just say I have an interest in your future."

Jackim narrowed his eyes. "My future?"

Celeste leaned forward, her voice lowering. "You've been stepping into a world you don't fully understand. Damian Rothschild, the Sinclair family… these aren't just wealthy elites. They control everything. And now, you've caught their attention."

Jackim didn't flinch. "So what? Let them watch."

Celeste chuckled. "Brave. But dangerous. You see, Jackim, in this world, attention can be either a blessing or a death sentence."

She reached into her purse and slid a small envelope across the table.

"Inside this is information. A name. Someone who is watching you far more closely than you realize."

Jackim picked up the envelope but didn't open it. "Why help me?"

Celeste smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Let's just say I prefer my investments to survive."

Jackim met her gaze, unblinking. "And what exactly do you want from me?"

She stood, adjusting her dress. "Nothing yet. But when the time comes, I'll call on you."

Jackim watched as she disappeared into the crowd, leaving him alone with the envelope.

Taking a deep breath, he opened it.

Inside was a single name.

Damian Rothschild.

Jackim's grip tightened.

He had suspected Damian was involved in something deeper. But now, he had proof.

And that meant the real game had just begun.

Jackim leaned back against the booth, his thoughts spinning. Damian Rothschild. One of the wealthiest and most influential figures in the city. A man whose name alone could open doors—or shut them forever.

Why was he watching Jackim?

Was it because of the lottery? The inheritance? Or was it something more?

His fingers traced the edge of the envelope. This wasn't a coincidence. Someone had been pulling the strings from the very beginning.

Jackim clenched his jaw.

If Damian thought he could control him like a pawn, he was in for a surprise.

Suddenly, the air in the club shifted.

Jackim felt it before he saw it—the weight of eyes watching him, the subtle change in energy. He turned his head slightly, scanning the room.

A man in a tailored black suit sat at the far end of the club, his glass untouched. His gaze met Jackim's for the briefest second before he stood and disappeared into the shadows.

Jackim's gut tightened.

Whoever that was, he wasn't just another guest.

This night wasn't over yet.