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The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 62
“You never told me how much you’d be paying for your share,” Klaus said. His eyes locked onto Moreau’s, unblinking. Moreau stuttered, laughing nervously. “Oh! Heh, yes… well, business has been a little tight on my end. I don’t have liquid capital at the moment. But once construction begins, I’ll contribute my share—of course!” Pathetic. This bastard really thought he could ride Klaus’s coattails and pocket the profit. Klaus smiled coldly. “Why don’t I pay for the entire project,” he said. “In exchange, I want full ownership of the estate. But since this was your brilliant idea, I’ll make sure the entire city knows. You’ll be hailed as a visionary—your name in lights, your legacy cemented.” Moreau blanched. “Erm, no, that’s not—” “Not what?” Klaus asked, voice smooth as silk but sharp as steel. “Not charitable enough? Isn’t this about giving back to the people? I’m helping you achieve your noble dream. You get applause, I get profit. Everyone wins.” Moreau squirmed in hi
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 63
“Derek Shaw,” Klaus muttered, lips tightening. Derek’s eyes lit up with cruel delight, like a cat finding a wounded bird. “Well, well, well,” he sneered, stepping forward, the woman on his arm giggling like a doll on cue. “If it isn’t Klaus fucking Whitlock. Trying to sneak into a high-society club like a common street rat.” Klaus said nothing, his silence sharpening like a blade. Derek grinned wider. “You remember me, don’t you? You humiliated me on my own show—Shaw Unfiltered. Made me a meme. Tanked my ratings. I still get laughed at online every damn day because of you.” He leaned in, voice acidic. “And now? The universe hands you to me on a silver platter. No invite. No respect. No entry. Just like the rest of the nobodies.” The bouncer laughed from behind Derek. “Told you. He’s full of shit.” Klaus’s shoulders rose and fell with a slow breath. He said nothing. Derek wasn’t finished. Not yet. “You think you’re better than me?” he spat, stepping on Klaus’s design
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 64
But ever since his ascension to Divine Human, the system had… shifted. It now behaved more like a sentient entity—testing him, poking him, daring him. It likes to play games, Klaus realized. And now it was forcing his hand. He couldn’t walk away. Couldn’t call for help. He had to retrieve his ticket right here, right now—or suffer a public humiliation and lose stat points. Derek continued his taunts. Derek even pulled out his phone and began recording. Klaus ignored them, his mind spinning. He closed his eyes, pushing out all distractions. The jeers faded into background static. He needed focus. Strategy. Precision. An idea flickered in his mind like a spark in the dark. Absolute Buy. He opened the system interface, its translucent screen blinking to life in front of his vision. The digital glow was faint to others, invisible really—but to Klaus, it lit up like a command center. > [System Coins: 90,000] [Luck Status: 0 pts] He grimaced. His luck had bottomed out—
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 65
The shock of his own realization hit him like a wrecking ball. Klaus Whitlock stood tall and composed beneath the neon lights of Club Velvet Fire, now the most exclusive nightlife spot in Flagstone, as the bouncer—now a man stripped of all ego—grovelled before him. “Please forgive me, Mr. Klaus! I didn’t know you were an important guest of Anya Petrova!” the bouncer squealed, his baritone reduced to a trembling, high-pitched plea. His voice cracked with desperation. “I don’t watch TV! I’m not social! I just—I thought you were—please, sir!” Klaus didn’t flinch. Arms crossed, eyes cold and unreadable, he regarded the kneeling man as if he were studying an insect beneath a microscope. The irony of it all was delicious. Moments ago, the bouncer had barked at him like a junkyard dog. Now he was mewling at his feet. The aura of dominance radiated from Klaus in subtle, almost invisible waves, making the air feel heavier around him. This wasn’t about ego. This was about control—pure, qu
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 66
It was as if an invisible force had locked his leg in place. No matter how hard he pushed, his foot refused to descend. Panic gripped him. His muscles strained, his nerves screamed—but his body didn’t respond. “What the hell?” he muttered. Or tried to. Nothing came out. He couldn’t speak. Then, to his growing horror, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief—his own—and slowly bent down. Klaus watched him, one brow lifted. Derek’s hand trembled as he began wiping the very shoe he had intended to stomp. Gasps echoed around them. Phones were lifted. Videos were taken. The man who had branded Klaus a fraud now knelt before him, cleaning his shoes like a servant. Klaus leaned down slightly, smiling like a benevolent king watching a court jester embarrass himself. “Why, thank you, Derek,” Klaus said smoothly. “You must’ve been quite the servant before you entered showbiz. With this deed, I forgive you for being an arsehole.” He patted Derek’s shoulder t
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 67
Klaus blinked, momentarily taken aback. The transformation was stunning. Her delicate oval face radiated elegance, her bust danced dangerously along the edge of a daring neckline, and her hourglass figure swayed with confident ease. Heads turned. Conversations paused. Whispers followed her. Klaus watched her—not like a man devouring beauty with his eyes, but like an artist studying a masterpiece. His gaze lingered not in lust but in quiet admiration, appreciating the grace, power, and aura she carried. It was a rare kind of attention—pure, unclouded by base desire. And she felt it. She blushed. For the first time in a long time, Anya felt truly seen. Not as an object of desire, not as the wealthy club owner with a model’s body—but as her. And somehow, she knew: Klaus Whitlock wasn’t pretending. His admiration was real. And it meant more than all the other looks she'd ever gotten in her life. “Klaus,” she said, her voice softening, “how are you? What happened at the entrance?
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 68
“Hm?” she tilted her head, caught off guard. “A woman like you—driven, beautiful, magnetic—you must have a boyfriend, right? I mean, who wouldn’t want to date someone like you?” Anya blinked, startled. The words hung in the air like smoke curling from a fire, slow and dangerous. Her breath hitched slightly, a delicate betrayal of the cool confidence she wore like a second skin. Then, she laughed—light, a little nervous—and looked down for a heartbeat before raising her eyes again, locking onto Klaus’s with a glimmer of something she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Oh,” she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her smile soft and disarming. “No, actually… I’m single. I’ve been so focused on building my career, chasing my dreams. Relationships always felt… secondary. And to be honest, I’ve never really met anyone who truly interested me.” But her heartbeat told a different story. It was drumming harder now, louder, as if her chest was announcing to the world that some
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 69
Klaus chuckled softly, a confident grin playing on his lips as he looked at the two stunning women before him — Isabella, radiant in a crimson slit dress that hugged her curves like temptation incarnate, and Anya, elegant in a deep sapphire gown, her subtle beauty wrapped in mystery and poise. The tension between them was thick, like a silent storm about to crack the air with thunder. "It's fine," Klaus said smoothly, placing a hand on both their waists. "I’ll dance with Isabella first—she did ask me before you, Anya. But…" He leaned in slightly, voice dropping with playful mischief, “the next dance will be with you.” Then, as if struck by sudden inspiration, he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Or... we could dance together. All three of us. Imagine it—me at the center of every man's envy tonight." His words were light, teasing, but his gaze flicked meaningfully between them, daring one of them to object. The air grew still. Both women exchanged a glance so sharp
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CHAPTER 78
His skin bore ancient runes that pulsed and split like overstrained circuits. His eyes—madness and genius, time and contradiction—glowed with the weight of forbidden knowledge.Eris.The Trickster.The god of Paradox.Above him, the heavens split.Seven celestial figures descended, veiled in gold and law, their forms wrapped in burning authority. They hovered—unblinking, unyielding—each one a pillar of divine order. Their voices cracked the sky."You gave power to the undeserving!""You’ve corrupted the Sacred Design!"Eris didn’t flinch. His smile was slow. Dangerous."You call it corruption," he said. "I call it remixing the rules."Then—a spear of judgment. Blinding light.It impaled him.His scream was silent. Divine blood spilled, glowing like spilled galaxies. Flowers bloomed upside down where it touched stone—reality mocking itself.“Mortals don’t rise by playing fair,” he whispered. “They change the game.”With fading strength, he raised his hands. Light and logic spiraled fro
CHAPTER 77
“They’re gone,” she said softly. “I—I had them earlier, I swear—” “Erm… we must’ve misplaced them,” Duncan said, flashing a nervous grin. “Come on, brother. It’s just two of us, yeah? Let’s not make this a big deal.” He discreetly extended a folded hundred-dollar bill. The bouncer, Andy, didn’t move. “No ticket. No entry.” Duncan’s smile cracked. “C’mon, man—just this once—” Andy took a half step forward. “And don’t insult me with that. I said no ticket, no entry. Now move.” Allison’s pride snapped like a brittle bone. “Do you have any idea who I am?” she snapped, voice shrill. Andy didn’t flinch. “Someone standing outside without a ticket.” Her jaw clenched, nostrils flared. She spun around in a storm of perfume and humiliation, heels clicking like gunshots on the concrete. Duncan followed, confused and fuming. “What the hell is going on?” he asked as she threw her clutch onto the hood of the parked Toyota and began tearing through it. “I had them,” she whispere
CHAPTER 76
“It wasn’t supposed to go this far…” He stepped into her space, voice low, unforgiving. “You tried to erase me.” “I know,” she whispered. “But you’re here. You survived. Doesn’t that mean something? Maybe it’s… fate?” He barked a short, cold laugh. “Fate doesn’t forgive murderers.” Duncan yanked her back by the arm. “Allison, enough. You’re embarrassing yourself.” “I don’t care!” she cried, eyes frantic. “He survived. He’s better! What happened was a mistake. It was—” “Funny,” Klaus said, “how love turns to worship the moment power enters the room.” He opened the door of the Rubicon. Allison collapsed again, kneeling like a penitent. “Please, Klaus. Just don’t hate me. We can fix this. I’m not asking for much. Just… don’t hate me.” He looked down at her, and for a heartbeat, silence wrapped around them like a shroud. “I don’t hate you, Allison,” he said softly. “You’re not worth that.” He stepped into the car, door closing with a deliberate click. Across th
CHAPTER 75
Klaus facepalmed in weary frustration. Because of course—of all the nights, all the places in this sprawling city—fate had to drag her back here. There, standing across from him like fragile porcelain caught in a hurricane, was Allison Thorne. Her red heels froze mid-stride. Her face lost all color, lips parting in disbelief. A clutch purse slipped from her trembling fingers, bursting open across the pavement. Lipstick, compact, coins—spilled like the guts of a confession. Her green eyes—once filled with warmth, now hollowed by regret—latched onto him like she was watching a ghost crawl out of its grave. Beside her stood Duncan Hunt—traitor, coward, Judas in designer sneakers. Stress hadn’t been kind to him, or maybe guilt had done the work. The once-boyish charm had dulled. His eyes were sunken, lined by sleepless nights and poor choices. He clutched a blazer over one shoulder like it could shield him from the storm barreling his way. “Klaus?” Duncan squinted. “Why are you
CHAPTER 74
Lucien snarled, his drink forgotten. “You think this is funny? I could sue you!” Klaus leaned in, the glint in his eyes colder than the ice in the man’s untouched whiskey. His voice was quiet. Dangerous. “And I could counter-sue you.” A brief pause. A beat of tension. Klaus added, almost lazily, “There are cameras watching everything. And let’s just say... Klaus Whitlock doesn’t take kindly to people who abuse their power.” Lucien froze. His mouth twitched. Color drained from his cheeks like water swirling down a drain. “You... who the hell are you?” Klaus straightened, indifferent. “Just a humble waiter,” he said. “With good ears.” --- 11:49 PM – Black Sapphire Lounge Klaus moved through the crowd, his tray steady, his movements smooth and measured. Then he froze mid-step. No system prompt this time. No mission alert. He didn’t need one. Bryce Fallon. Defense-tech mogul. Golden boy. Smug bastard. The same brute who once shoved Klaus’s face into a toilet and laughed wi
CHAPTER 73
“Thank you. Now get back to work and forget you saw me.” “Yes, sir!” The waiter scurried off. Klaus stepped into the small staff restroom, peeled off his soaked blazer, and began changing. The uniform fit snugly—not perfect, but close enough. He adjusted the black vest, rolled his sleeves, and glanced at himself in the mirror. Then, his eyes narrowed slightly. He activated Shape Shifter. Just a few subtle tweaks—less definition in his jawline, darker brows, a hint of a cleft chin, and a more narrow nose bridge. His eyes became a muted hazel instead of piercing blue. His hairstyle shifted just enough to be less distinct, the kind of face you’d glance over in a crowd and never recall later. [Shape Shifter active – Duration: 1 Hour] The result wasn’t a disguise—it was anonymity. No one would recognize him now, not unless they were really paying attention. Not even Anya or Isabella, if they weren’t looking closely. There was something surreal about it—Klaus Whitlock, heir
CHAPTER 72
“I’ve had far worse thrown at me,” Klaus replied. “A glass and a wine bottle? Child’s play.” Marco chuckled. “Fair, but you move like you have some combat training.” Silence, then They stood still for a moment, letting the tension simmer. Then both relaxed at the same time, nodding to each other with reluctant respect. “Guess we’re even,” Marco said. Klaus smirked. “For now.” Isabella returned, eyes wide. “Are you two done trying to kill each other?” “Bonding,” Marco corrected, rubbing his shoulder. “This is how men bond.” Anya rolled her eyes, but there was a note of amusement in her voice. “You two are insane.” “Maybe,” Klaus said, adjusting his sleeves. “But he’s got style.” Marco raised his glass again. “To not killing each other tonight.” Klaus clinked it. “I’ll drink to that.” ********** Isabella excused herself with a soft smile, murmuring something about needing the restroom. At the same time, Anya caught sight of another group of high-fashion friends
CHAPTER 71
“Old-fashioned,” Klaus murmured as the golden liquid shimmered in his glass. “Neat.” He didn’t flinch when her lips grazed his cheek—Isabella’s kiss was warm, casual, practiced. She gave him a fleeting smile, then turned and strutted past Marco without a word, her heels clicking like punctuation marks in the smoky hum of Velvet Fire. Marco’s eyes tracked her, jaw clenched. He reached for a toothpick, then stabbed it into the table with silent aggression. The wood splintered softly, almost inaudibly, but the gesture was louder than any curse. From across the dimly lit lounge, Jian caught Klaus’s eye. He raised a brow, then smirked. The air was thick with intent. Tension lingered like perfume on skin. Let the night burn, Klaus thought, his gaze fixed on Marco. The man didn’t look away. Instead, he smiled—unexpected, cryptic—and began to approach Klaus once more. Klaus shifted subtly, weight balanced. He expected a confrontation, maybe a threat, but Marco extended a hand instea
CHAPTER 70
“And I thought… what if I could take that kind of warmth, that chaos, that passion—and make it into something beautiful? Not just a place that serves drinks or plays music, but something that tells a story. Our story. Of travels, of connection, of rhythm.” She paused, her eyes scanning the crowd. “This place didn’t start with capital or luck. It started with heartbreak. It started with survival. And it led me here—with beauty, with soul, with people like you.” Another beat. This one tender, reverent. “So tonight,” she continued, raising her glass of champagne, “I toast to all of you. To the ones who made me laugh, the ones who I barely know, and the ones who helped me in my darkest days. Velvet Fire is yours now.” A wave of applause rolled through the room, followed by a cheer that roared like fire kissing gasoline. Anya laughed, brushing a tear from the corner of her eye. “And now, I’d like to introduce a few special souls I met along the way. People who stood out—not in
