Chapter 4. Retribution for Hans

“Don’t let go. If your hands shake, we lose,” Kenzo said flatly, almost without emotion.

Lyra steadied her breathing. She looked at the back of her own hand. It was not trembling. Her fingers felt foreign as the diamond ring pressed against her skin. Cold and heavy. The metal was a reminder that starting tonight, she no longer belonged to herself. She had been sold for the next year.

“I’m not shaking because I’m afraid,” Lyra replied, her eyes fixed on the grand doors of the gallery ahead.

“I just can’t wait to watch him rot.”

Kenzo did not respond. He merely adjusted his sleeve, making sure his silver watch was perfectly visible beneath the cuff.

The driver opened the limousine door. Camera flashes from the journalists outside began to burst in rapid succession. Kenzo stepped out first, then extended his hand to Lyra.

Lyra took his hand. The moment her heels touched the asphalt, fear ceased to exist. She focused on one thing only, not stumbling.

Hundreds of flashes struck her face, but she stared straight ahead as if the reporters were nothing more than lampposts. At Kenzo’s side, the world seemed to keep a careful one-meter distance from her.

Inside the hall, the air was thick with the clashing scents of alcohol and perfume. The room buzzed with polite laughter and shallow pleasantries. Lyra found Hans immediately. He stood at the center of the room, holding a glass of champagne as if he owned the event.

His arm was wrapped around the waist of a girl in a red dress who clung to him without pause. Hans laughed broadly, baring his teeth with deep satisfaction, the same expression he wore when he believed he had just thrown trash where it belonged.

“That bastard makes me sick,” Lyra muttered, clenching both fists.

Hans choked. The champagne glass tilted in his hand, its contents spilling over his fingers. He did not notice. His eyes locked onto a single point by the entrance, staring at Lyra without blinking. The flush of alcohol on his face drained instantly, replaced by an unnatural pallor.

“Lyra?” Hans murmured, but in the suddenly silent hall, her name sounded like a mistake.

The girl at his side tugged at his arm, demanding to know who had just ruined their moment. Hans did not look at her. He jerked his arm free and stepped forward. He pushed through the crowd clumsily, knocking into several shoulders without apology. His momentum died instantly when two broad-necked men blocked his path. They stood still, but that was enough for Hans to realize he had no access beyond that point.

“Move! She’s my girlfriend!” Hans shouted, his voice cracking with panic.

Lyra stopped. She released Kenzo’s hand briefly, signaling the bodyguards to step aside. She walked toward Hans, slow and certain. She stopped directly in front of him. She did not speak with sadness or pleading. She looked at him as though he were dirt accidentally stuck to her shoe.

“Girlfriend?” Lyra let out a short laugh. Her laughter was clear, but ice-cold.

“You’ve got the wrong person, Hans. I never had a boyfriend who sold a woman’s dignity for a single apartment in the city center.”

The hall erupted instantly. The names Cullen and Alberto passed from mouth to mouth in disbelief. In the corner of the room, Hans’s father stood frozen. His face turned ashen. He knew Kenzo Alberto was not the kind of man one confronted with the careless naivety of his reckless son.

“You sold yourself to him, didn’t you?” Hans pointed at Kenzo with a trembling finger. “Just because I threatened you about those photos? You’re still trash I threw away yesterday!”

Kenzo was unhurried. He stepped closer, his hand settling at Lyra’s waist with a calm but absolute claim. His eyes fixed on Hans evenly, as if staring at a stain on the floor that needed to be wiped away.

“Careful, son,” Kenzo whispered. The room seemed to lose its sound entirely. “You’re speaking about Lyra Cullen. And to me, insulting a Cullen is a declaration of war against the Alberto family.”

Kenzo turned to William, who now stood stiffly at his side. He did not need harsh words. Just a small, disdainful nod.

“Your son has a dangerous tongue, William.” Kenzo’s voice was barely audible. “Inform your legal team that the Alberto vendor contract ends tonight. I do not do business with a family that cannot raise its own child.”

Hans’s father nearly collapsed. He tried to drag his son back, his lips trembling with apologies, but Kenzo had already turned away. He led Lyra across the room, leaving Hans standing rigid under the cynical stares of every guest.

The peak came when the event began to loosen again. Having lost his last shred of reason, Hans managed to corner Lyra on a quiet balcony while Kenzo was speaking with several bank officials downstairs.

“Lyra, give me back my data!” Hans grabbed her arm roughly. “What hacker did you use to wipe it? You think you can just walk away after humiliating my family?”

Lyra did not wince, though his grip was tight. Instead, she leaned closer to his ear, whispering the words she had saved.

“That data is gone, Hans. Forever. Just like your family’s future that you just destroyed yourself,” Lyra said sharply.

“Enjoy your remaining time as a rich man, because soon you’ll be rotting on the streets with nothing left to trade.”

Suddenly, a large hand seized the collar of Hans’s suit from behind, yanking him backward until he stumbled and released Lyra.

Kenzo stood there. His face was glacial. He did not strike, but his presence was far more terrifying than any physical blow.

Kenzo pulled Hans close until their faces were only inches apart. Hans could see the frozen fury in his eyes.

“Thank you for throwing this diamond into my path, Hans. Now I have a reason to crush a little dog like you,” Kenzo whispered directly into his ear.

He paused, letting Hans tremble beneath his control. His eyes gleamed dangerously, reflecting the city lights beyond the balcony.

“If you try to say her name again, or dare to appear in front of her even once, I will make sure your family’s business ends tomorrow morning. I have a thousand ways to ensure you never work anywhere in this city again. You want to be homeless? Go ahead.”

Hans staggered back, his steps dragging as though the balcony floor had tilted beneath him. He nearly tripped as he turned, then almost ran into the darkness, unable to dismiss Kenzo’s threat.

Lyra said nothing. Her eyes remained fixed on his retreating back until he disappeared completely. The nausea that had settled in her stomach since last night slowly began to fade.

“Satisfied?” Kenzo asked. He did not look in the direction Hans had gone. He looked at Lyra, searching for any trace of lingering sadness.

Lyra straightened her dress, slightly disheveled from Hans’s grip, then slipped her arm back through Kenzo’s. She glanced at the diamond ring glittering beneath the moonlight.

“Not yet,” Lyra answered honestly. “This is only the beginning.”

Kenzo said nothing, only a faint smirk aimed at the crowd ahead of them. Lyra lifted her chin in response. As they stepped back into the hall, the whispers shifted, no longer mockery but uneasy murmurs spreading like fire.

Lyra no longer needed their acknowledgment. She felt the cool marble floor beneath her heels, steady and certain.

As they nearly reached the exit, Kenzo leaned down slightly, his breath warm near her ear.

“Good performance, Lyra. But don’t get carried away,” he whispered. “Don’t forget, in our agreement, I’m the one holding the reins.”

Lyra paused briefly. She did not turn, but her fingers tightened slightly around the sleeve of his suit.

“Reins can choke anyone, Kenzo. Including the one who holds them,” Lyra replied calmly.

Kenzo froze for a second, then a low laugh escaped him. “Interesting. Let’s see who lasts longer.”