Alex could''ve killed the thugs without breaking a sweat, but he wasn''t here for them.

    He needed Mike, and there were still things he didn''t know. So instead of rising to the bait, he sat down on the floor, legs stretched out, calm as stone.

    The thugs nced his way, sizing him up, then dismissed him.

    Their attention turned to Mike''s otherpanions-bodyguards, clients, whoever they were.

    Seven of them were forced to their knees. Alex stayed in the corner, silent, watching.

    The old man shifted his gaze to Mike, his lips curling into a cruel grin.

    "Hey, punk. Weren''t you acting real arrogant just now? Stealing my woman? Threatening to break my arms?"

    He tossed his baton to the floor in front of Mike. "Well, here''s your chance. Do it. Break my arm."

    Mike forced a weak smile. "That was a misunderstanding. She caught my eye for a second and I forgot who she was with. I was stupid."

    "How about this—I''ll cover all your expenses here tonight as an apology."

    "Fuck you." The man''s hand cracked across Mike''s face.

    "You think I pay for anything in this club? I eat, drink, and take whatever I want. You think I''m some cheap bastard you can buy off? I''d rather cut one of your arms."

    Mike winced, still kneeling. "Please, I need my arms for work. How about a new car? I just bought thetest model. It''s outside. I''ll give it to you."

    Leo drove his boot into Mike''s face. "Who the hell do you think I am? Everyone knows my son-Lord Moretti. I don''t need your hand-me-down car. I can walk into any dealership and take what I want. Your arms still look perfect to me."

    Desperation broke Mike. He mmed his forehead against the floor and clutched at Leo''s feet. “Please, don''t take my hands!"

    "Pathetic." Leo spat, pping him again. "Get me the machete. Tonight, I''m taking an arm home."

    One of the thugs handed Leo a machete. Leo gripped it, raised it high, and swung down with savage force.

    The machete hissed through the air-then stopped dead. A single hand gripped the steel, holding it still. No matter how Leo strained, it wouldn''t move an inch.

    "That''s enough," Alex said. His voice was low,manding.

    Leo''s face twisted in shock. "How dare you stop me!"

    "I don''t care if you kill the rest," Alex said coldly. "But you don''t touch Mike. I still need him."

    Leo narrowed his eyes. "And what if I decide I want him dead?"

    "Then don''t me me for breaking you."

    Leo let out a harsh, mockingugh. "Break me? Don''t make meugh. Look around you, punk-twenty of my men, armed and ready. You touch me, and they''ll carve you into pieces right here on the floor."

    Alex sneered. "Touch you, you say?"

    Before anyone could blink, his hand shot out. A deafening crack echoed through the club as his palm mmed across Leo''s face, snapping his head sideways.

    "I just touched you," Alex said coldly. "So what?"

    The entire room went silent. Not a breath, not a whisper-only the stunned stillness of men who couldn''t believe what they had just witnessed.

    Leo staggered back, clutching his cheek, eyes wide in disbelief. Never in his life had anyone daredy a hand on him. Shock and humiliation burned in his chest.

    The gangsters stood frozen, eyes wide with disbelief.

    None of them had ever witnessed anything like it-Lord Moretti, the feared leader of the Ouroboros Gang, a name whispered in fear across the city.

    The man whose empire thrived on drugs, guns, and bloodshed, whomanded hundreds of ruthless killers

    And now his own father had been pped like somemon fool.

    "How the hell could he hit Lord Moretti''s father? Is he insane?"

    "Offending Lord Moretti''s father means offending the Lord Moretti and the entire Ouroboros Gang. He''s a dead man walking!"

    "What a fool... he doesn''t even know who he just crossed."

    Every eye in the nightclub turned to Alex, expecting to watch him die.

    Leo staggered to his feet, one side of his face grotesquely swollen. Blood dripped from his lips as two teeth ttered onto the floor. His voice shook with rage.

    "H-how dare you hit me!"

    Alex''s tone was calm, almost bored. "Didn''t I already warn you? If you touched Mike, I''d beat you down. Why the hell don''t you listen?"

    "You''re dead meat!" Leo screeched. Spittle flew from his mouth. "What are you idiots waiting for? He hit me! Get him!"

    "Let''s go!"

    A wave of thugs surged forward, machetes and iron batons shing in the neon lights.

    Chairs scraped back, sses shattered, and panicked patrons scattered toward the corners of the club.

    The pounding bass from the speakers made the chaos even worse-then the DJ, half-drunk and grinning, actually cranked up the music, turning the fight into a spectacle.

    Some drunkards cheered from the sidelines, screaming for blood. Othersughed like it was the best entertainment of the night.

    The gangsters rushed Alex in a frenzy. Instead of retreating, he walked into them -calm, steady, unstoppable.

    His hands moved like lightning, every strike precise and devastating. A whirlwind

    of strikes, and brutal throws cut through the mob.

    Bones cracked. Batons flew. Men screamed.

    In minutes, thirty men-including the club''s hired securityy groaning on the floor. Limbs bent at wrong angles, faces bloodied, the stench of fear heavy in the air.

    The crowd fell silent.

    "What the...?" Someone whispered.

    elme

    Dozens of eyes stared wide at Alex, speechless. He had fought them barehanded. No weapons, no hesitation. And he hadn''t just won-he had annihted them.

    "Holy shit," a man muttered. "Is he even human?"

    A group of young women broke the silence, squealing and shouting over the wreckage.

    "Who knew that pretty boy could fight like that?"

    "He''s hot and he can fight? God, I wish he was my boyfriend!"

    "Go on, handsome! Show them who''s boss!"

    Their voices rose above the stunned crowd, cheering Alex like a hero.

    Leo stumbled backward, his face pale with terror.

    His men were hardened fighters, veterans of street wars. And Alex had torn through them like they were nothing.

    "W-w-who the fuck are you?" Leo stammered, his bravado stripped away.

    Alex''s eyes stayed cold, his voice steady. "It doesn''t matter who I am. I''m taking Mike with me. If you want to stay alive, don''t get in my way."

    "You''d better not think too highly of yourself!" Leo shouted, blood and spit flying from his swollen lips.

    "My son is Lord Moretti of the

    Ouro ang! Youy a hand on

    me,

    You''ve already made yourself his

    I called him-he''s on his way

    right now!"

    Even as fear lingered in his eyes, Leo''s confidence crept back when he remembered his son''s name.

    Alex didn''t waste a second. His hand cracked across Leo''s face again.

    "Arrogant, aren''t you?" p.

    "Ouroboros Gang, you say?" Smack.

    "And Lord Moretti?" Whack.

    "I''m hitting you right now. What''s he going to do about it?"

    Each strikended harder than thest, Alex''s questions punctuated by the sound

    of flesh meeting flesh.

    Leo''s face ballooned grotesquely, his cheeks split and raw.

    By the time Alex stopped, the old man was barely recognizable, his pride

    shattered into the floor he knelt on.

    The women watching gasped, hands over their lips, their hearts racing.

    Leo had always been known for harassing young women in bars, hiding behind his son''s name.

    None of them had ever dared fight back. Tonight, they watched someone finally give him the punishment he deserved-and they couldn''t look away.

    "Who the hell dares touch my father?!" a thunderous voice roared.

    The crowd parted instantly. A towering figure strode into the club, the air shifting with his presence.

    "Lord Moretti..." someone whispered in terror.

    Panic rippled through the room. People shoved back against the walls, not wanting to breathe too loud in front of the infamous gang leader.

    Moretti, the man who ruled the Ouroboros Gang with an iron grip,manded hundreds of men and feared now.

    "It''s over, brat!" Leo cackled through his battered mouth, blood staining his teeth. "My son is here. You''re finished!"

    "Oh, shit... even Lord Moretti himself showed up?" a man muttered.

    "I hope nothing happens to that hot guy," one of the girls whispered, eyes darting

    to Alex.

    Leo wasted no time. "You came just in time, Son! This bastard hit me. You need to make him pay!"

    Lord Moretti''s eyes narrowed. "Did you tell him who I am?"

    "Of course I did! But he just hit me harder. He even insulted you!" Leo''s whining voice fanned the mes of his son''s fury.

    Moretti''s face twisted dark. "Who the fuck daresy a hand on my father? Doesn''t

    he know who I-"

    Then he saw Alex.

    Alex smiled at him, calm and amused.

    The words died in Moretti''s throat. His face drained of color, then flushed red as shame wed at him.

    "You," Alex said, his tone t, cold. "Didn''t I tell you to keep the car ready?"

    The room went still.

    Lord Moretti''s jaw clenched. His chest burned with humiliation. Why him? Of all people... why did my father have to provoke this monster?