CHAPTER 299: CHAPTER 299 THE FUTURE

Liam watched the taller guy carefully, his sharp gaze steady behind the silver mask. The words that had just been thrown at him "fuck off" were harsh, cocky, meant to provoke. But Liam didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink.

Why would he?

Getting angry over something that stupid would be giving the guy exactly what he wanted. That would be childish. A waste of energy.

Instead, Liam did what he always did.

With no hesitation, he made his move.

Smoothly, with a confidence so natural it was almost unfair, he slipped his arm around Vanessa’s waist.

She stiffened slightly at first, her heart skipping as her body registered the sudden intimacy. It wasn’t a fake move or an act to save face, it was real. The closeness between them sparked an electric tension, one she wasn’t prepared for. And judging by the red creeping up her chest beneath the gown, she didn’t hate it.

Liam, however, looked like nothing had changed. Cool, calm, collected.

But inside?

He was stunned.

His hand rested firmly against her waist, and the first thing he noticed was how perfectly shaped she was. The gentle curve of her body beneath the gown, firm, yet soft was undeniable. Her dress clung to her in all the right places, and the sensation of her warmth beneath his fingers made something stir inside him.

Still, he didn’t show a damn thing on his face.

He just turned slightly toward the two men still standing there, who now looked like they were either about to explode or melt in frustration.

"Are you two blind?" Liam’s voice was level, laced with just the right amount of arrogance. "Can’t you see she didn’t come alone?"

There was a heavy pause.

The taller guy clenched his jaw. His eyes, barely visible behind his dark mask, narrowed as if measuring Liam. Then suddenly; too suddenly, his face changed.

He forced a small, apologetic smile and said, "We’re sorry for disturbing."

Liam cocked an eyebrow beneath his mask. That was fast.

He knew this type. The smooth kind. The calculating kind. The kind that never truly gives up—they just step back to try another angle.

He smirked faintly. This bastard’s up to something.

He gave a short nod. "Piss off."

That was all.

The taller guy’s smile twitched with irritation, but he didn’t argue. He turned sharply and grabbed his shorter friend by the arm, dragging him away through the crowd of masked elites.

"Hey, what are you doing?" the shorter guy protested. "Are we just giving up on the girl?"

"Shut up," the taller one muttered without looking back. "There are too many people here. If we cause a scene now, it’ll mess up our image."

"Image?" the shorter guy echoed, confused. "Bro what are you planning?"

The taller one stopped at a quieter corner and turned toward him. His eyes had lost all warmth.

"Whoever that guy is," he said coldly, "he’ll regret messing with me."

Back at the table, Liam picked up his drink. He tilted his head back and downed the wine in a single gulp, letting it burn just a little on the way down.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Vanessa watching him.

He looked down at her—and for the first time, really saw her expression.

Her face was slightly red.

Confused, Liam lowered his gaze a little further.

That’s when he realized.

His hand was still resting on her waist.

And very much still there.

He was about to remove his hand from Vanessa’s waist, he really was. But something in him resisted. Maybe it was the way her body felt so warm and close, or maybe it was just a petty part of him that enjoyed watching her squirm a little.

So instead, he stayed still.

Then, with the most innocent tone he could fake, he tilted his head slightly and asked, "What’s wrong? You look kind of red."

He even added a touch of concerned frown, as if genuinely puzzled by her flushed cheeks.

Vanessa turned slowly, her eyes narrowing behind the mask. She saw right through him.

Without saying a word, she raised her leg and kicked him. Not hard enough to injure him, but hard enough to hurt.

"Ah shit," Liam groaned, as he recoiled. His hand finally released her waist as he shifted uncomfortably and glared at her.

He leaned in a bit and hissed, "If you didn’t want me touching your waist, you could’ve just said so. Violence wasn’t necessary."

Vanessa rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Then don’t pretend to be stupid next time," she muttered under her breath.

Before Liam could retort, she suddenly glanced around. Her head shifted subtly, her eyes tracking the movement around the hall. It didn’t take long for her to realize something was changing.

People were standing, whispering quietly to one another. One by one, masked guests began drifting toward a particular hallway at the back. They weren’t rushing, but they weren’t exactly slow either. It was deliberate. Coordinated.

Vanessa tugged on Liam’s sleeve. "Look," she whispered urgently.

Liam turned his head and followed her gaze. She didn’t have to say anything else. The crowd was clearly moving in one direction, and there was no announcement, no instruction, no guide.

Adjusting the sleeves of his suit, he nodded. "Let’s walk with them."

Vanessa nodded and stepped close again, their pace falling in sync as they quietly joined the crowd. Their footsteps echoed faintly off the polished marble as they crossed the wide hallway that led through the mansion’s interior. Neither of them spoke.

Liam’s brows furrowed. There wasn’t a single voice giving commands, no music to guide a mood shift, no alarm. It was too clean. Too quiet.

He glanced at the time on his watch.

8:30 PM.

He raised a brow in realization. So this was routine...

Everyone here already knew what to expect. That’s why no one questioned it.

Vanessa leaned closer and whispered, "It’s been planned this way. Like a ritual."

Liam nodded slightly as his mind processed. Everything felt rehearsed. Practiced. This wasn’t a gathering, it was a system.

They passed through a wide, arching door that led outside.

The moment they stepped into the backyard, the cold night air hit Liam’s skin like a breath of ice. His suit didn’t offer much warmth, but he didn’t shiver. Instead, he breathed it in calmly, his sharp eyes scanning the wide open space.

It was massive, this wasn’t just a backyard. This was practically an open arena, filled with leveled platforms, statues, perfectly trimmed hedges, and subtle lighting that glowed along the ground like the trails of a runway.

Vanessa moved slightly closer to him, her body reacting instinctively to the temperature.

Then her voice cut through the air. "Look ahead, Liam."

He turned his head in the direction she pointed.

And what he saw... made his chest tighten.

There, standing beneath the central garden light, surrounded by a half-circle of high-ranking guests, was a man Liam hadn’t seen in a long time.

Boss.

Alive.

The same man he and Lilith had fought. The same man Lilith had shot through the eye, leaving his corpse for dead. The very same man who had been declared finished and buried in their minds.

Now, there he was.

Standing in the open.

It was just as Vanessa had said, he is very much alive.

His left eye was now covered with a dark eyepatch. He wore a blood-red suit, almost regal in design, with a black high-collar shirt beneath. His mere presence carried weight. Fear. Power.

Vanessa turned her head and looked up at Liam.

His eyes hadn’t blinked once.

They were locked on Boss like a predator stalking prey.

But what made her skin crawl wasn’t his stillness—it was the smile.

Cold.

Slow.

Cruel.

A smile she had never seen on Liam’s face before. Not in battle. Not even when he was dealing with someone he hated.

It wasn’t his usual smirk or a confident grin. This was different. It felt wrong. Calculated. Cold-blooded.

It sent a shiver crawling straight down Vanessa’s spine.

"Liam..." she whispered softly, but he didn’t respond.

His gaze was locked forward, burning holes through the one-eyed man standing across the garden.

Boss, completely unaware of the fire burning in Liam’s eyes, clapped his hands twice with authority.

The sound echoed through the air, pulling the attention of every guest in the backyard.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Boss began, his voice booming with confidence. "First of all, I want to appreciate every single one of you."

He gestured slowly to the guests scattered around him in a half-circle, most of them dressed in opulent suits and gowns, faces hidden behind elegant masks.

"I mean it. Your investments, your trust, and your patience... have carried the Crimson Hand to where we stand today."

He paused dramatically, allowing the moment to settle.

"And as you all know..." Boss continued, raising a single finger into the air, "the Black Lotus have been cleansed. Completely."

Applause erupted across the backyard.

Some of it was polite. Others clapped like mindless followers.

"Boss is a genius," one man murmured near Liam and Vanessa. "Only a few men could orchestrate what he did. And survive it."

"I heard he took a bullet to the face," said another, a well-dressed woman with an amber mask. "And now look at him—still leading, still undefeated. That’s real power."

"Legend," a third voice chimed in. "A walking one."

Liam chuckled under his breath.

The sound was low.

Mocking.

Vanessa glanced at him again, concern flickering behind her mask. He wasn’t even trying to hide how ridiculous he thought these people were. His hands were in his pockets now, one leg slightly tilted as if he was watching a school play.

Boss raised his hand again and the applause slowly died down.

"Of course..." Boss said with a smile, "I didn’t call you here tonight just to bathe in our collective success."

The crowd quieted even further.

"No," Boss continued, his one visible eye scanning their masked faces. "There’s another reason for tonight’s gathering."

He began to pace slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. His voice was calm, but commanding.

"A reason that goes far beyond what you’ve seen. Beyond the destruction of a rival gang. Beyond mere territory or political influence."

He stopped and faced them again.

His lips curled into a wide, dangerous grin.

"I called you here..."

He spread his arms open wide, like a preacher before a congregation.

"...to show you the future."