Dinner ended in laughter and warmth, the kind of simple evening that many would envy. After helping clear the dishes and exchanging a few more words with his family, Eric excused himself and retreated to his room.
His space reflected his nature: neat, orderly, without excess. The bed was crisply made, the desk arranged with almost military precision. A stack of paperwork sat waiting, reminders of responsibilities that weighed more heavily than they appeared.
Eric freshened up, washing away the day's dust, then sat at his desk. His gaze lingered on the papers, but his mind wandered elsewhere. The school holidays were ending. Soon, he would be back in uniform, back among crowds of students where whispers traveled faster than the wind.
A sigh escaped him. His head throbbed faintly at the memory of what had transpired before the break—the spark of trouble that now loomed like a storm on the horizon.
It wasn't his fault. Not entirely. But implication was a shadow that clung tightly, and he knew well that shadows were harder to escape than chains.
It all began with her.
A girl whose beauty was so radiant it left the rest of the year's students in her shadow. To call her gorgeous was almost an insult; she was perfection personified, the kind of face that turned heads and silenced rooms. For months, she had approached him—bold, persistent, her presence impossible to ignore.
Her name was Jane James, heiress of the James family, owners of the sprawling Fox Century conglomerate. Among the younger generation of the city, her name rang louder than a temple bell. Admired, envied, pursued—Jane James was an idol.
And she was chasing him.
But Eric was no fool. He had nothing to offer her but his looks, and in his eyes, that was hardly a foundation for anything but disaster. Girls like Jane did not bring prosperity; they carried storms. His family lived in stability, carefully guarding their collective well-being. Dating a girl like Jane—untouchable, celebrated—would only shatter that fragile peace.
So he avoided her. Time and again, he turned away, offering silence instead of encouragement. But silence, he was learning, could be as dangerous as consent.
His heart, however, was not empty.
It beat with a quiet affection for someone else: Benedicta Zung.
Unlike Jane, Benedicta kept herself hidden from the spotlight. A half Chinese woman of striking beauty, her figure was perfection sculpted, yet she cloaked it beneath long, flowing black robes that seemed to repel the world. Her expression was icy, her demeanor distant, yet beneath that coldness lingered something Eric found irresistible.
Benedicta had dropped out of college and now managed her father's martial arts dojo. She never explained why. Some speculated, others whispered, but she gave no answers. To Eric, she was a mystery worth understanding, a flame hidden behind layers of frost.
His lips curved faintly as he thought of her, but the moment shattered when his phone rang sharply.
Ringgg… ringgg…
Eric glanced at the screen before answering. "What is it, Noah?" His tone was flat, calm as ever.
On the other end, his friend's voice trembled. "Eric… some thugs blocked my sister today. If not for a patrolling police team, I don't even want to imagine what would've happened."
Eric's brows knit together. "Do you think it was that Moonsun guy?"
There was hesitation before Noah replied, almost wistfully. "Eric… you're always calm. I truly wish I could be like you."
Eric's patience thinned. "Answer the question, you moron."
"Yes! Absolutely yes!" Noah's voice cracked under the weight of his own fear.
Eric leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. "Don't panic. Even though he comes from a big family and has a mafia-connected brother, he won't do anything dirty—at least, not yet. He's just looking for excuses. His real aim isn't your sister, Noah. It's jane."
Noah sucked in a breath, but Eric continued coldly. "And let's not forget—you were the one who started this mess. You spread that nonsense about me dating Jane James, didn't you? That rumor is why the Moonsun brat is moving like this."
There was silence on the other end, only Noah's breathing. Finally, he whispered, "I… I just wanted to help. I thought…"
"Don't think," Eric cut him off sharply. "Your thoughts cause trouble. Just keep your head down for now."
But even as he said it, Eric's instincts whispered otherwise. Something was off.
The Moonsun family's youngest heir was arrogant, but arrogance alone didn't explain the recent aggression. Nor did Noah's foolish rumor fully account for the sudden escalation.
Unbeknownst to both Eric and Noah, they had miscalculated.
The root of this conflict was not Erica, not Jane, not even the rumor that had set tongues wagging. Those were distractions—smoke and mirrors.
The true spark was far smaller, yet infinitely more dangerous.
A piece of rusty iron.
Noah's "inheritance," as he called it. A worthless-looking relic that he insisted once belonged to his father. He guarded It jealously, refusing to part with it despite mounting pressure.
To most, it was junk. To Noah, sentiment.
But to someone else… it was something far more.
For reasons Eric could not yet fathom, the iron had drawn the attention of a power so dangerous that even the Moonsun family would kneel. A young man from that hidden force had set his eyes upon it, and with but a word, he could erase families like Moonsun from existence
Eric got this information a few hours ago, thanks to someone he trusted who happens to work for the moon-sun family.
The storm Eric feared was no longer on the horizon. It was already gathering above their heads.
And none of them realized it Yet.