The Keal mansion stood like a ghost against the night white walls, perfect gardens, the kind of beauty that hid rot underneath. Yadiel had learned long ago that silence in this house didn't mean peace. It meant pressure.
He walked through the golden-lit hall, loosened his tie, and dropped his keys on the marble counter. The clink echoed louder than it should have.
Dinner was waiting as it always was, untouched, cold, and expensive. The long dining table stretched between him, his cousins, his father, and his grandmother, Meryl Keal, who sat at the head like a queen of something poisonous.
Yadiel sat at the far end of the long mahogany table, a silver fork idle between his fingers. The chandelier glimmered above, too bright, too polished, like the family pretending to be whole beneath it.
His grandmother, Meryl Keal, presided over the table like a queen who'd built her throne from secrets. His cousins filled the seats, talking about business, charity galas, and who he should marry next.
"Yadiel," Meryl began, her voice cutting through the conversation like glass. "You will attend the engagement dinner tomorrow. I've arranged everything."
He looked up slowly. "I never agreed to that."
"You never disagree with family," she snapped.
His cousin Elian tried to lighten the moment. "It wouldn't kill you to go, Yad. She's a nice girl."
"She's another gold-digger who wants the name, not me," Yadiel interrupted, voice low but steady.
Meryl's expression hardened. "You think you have a choice? You owe this family everything: our name, our wealth, our protection."
"I didn't ask for it," he muttered.
Her hand slammed against the table. "You ungrateful boy! Do you know what we sacrificed for you? You will not embarrass this family again!"
Everyone went silent. The only sound was the faint ticking of the golden clock on the wall.
Yadiel rose from his chair, unhurried. "Then let me save you the embarrassment, Grandmother."
"Where are you going?" she barked.
He straightened his coat. "Anywhere you're not."
He ignored the shouts that followed him down the hallway. His cousin called his name once, but he didn't stop. He needed air, something real, something human.
He didn't wait for the driver. He never did when the house turned into a cage.
Noven City shimmered under the moonlight, all glitter and lies.The Mercedes moved quietly through the streets, the city lights reflected in Yadiel's eyes, calm but cold.
He didn't go to his usual club tonight.He wanted a place where no one knew his name.
That's how he found The Mirage, a smaller, red-lit bar tucked at the edge of downtown. The sign flickered like a dying heartbeat.
Inside, the air was thick with smoke, perfume, and whispered sins.He took a seat near the back, where shadows covered faces and silence felt safe.
Music began slow, smooth, electric.And then she appeared.
Rina Loxen.
She stepped onto the stage, hips swaying, eyes hard as glass.Her movements weren't desperate; they were sharp, measured, almost angry. She danced like someone fighting her own story.
Yadiel didn't look away.There was something magnetic in the way she refused to perform for attention. It was like she was daring the world to misunderstand her.
When her set ended, one of the bouncers whispered something in her ear."VIP room," he said. "A guest asked for you.