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Rise of the Rejected; Bred by the Mafia CEO
Rise of the Rejected; Bred by the Mafia CEO
Author: Lyna

Chapter One-A collision of vices

Author: Lyna
last update Last Updated: 2025-11-01 18:35:02

“We are here, boss”

“The bitches?”

“They are waiting inside” Kael turns off the ignition.

“It's about to rain booties tonight” He grins like a maniac.

Kael rushes to open the door but he kicks it open before he gets there. “Are you not coming in?”

“I will wait here boss” Kael bowed.

“Boring Kael. You're so boring”

Flipping his suit across his shoulder, he dash towards The Void club entrance.

The club is a hostile blur. There are no soft, ambient lights; only sporadic, violent strobes of neon red and surgical white that tear through the overwhelming darkness. These lights don't illuminate, they fracture reality, reducing the hundreds of persons to flickering, anonymous shapes. The deep, velvet shadows are where the true business takes place, where secrets are whispered and debts are settled. The few mirrored surfaces in the VIP sections seem to absorb the light, reflecting distorted, predatory versions of the elite crowd.

The bass is a constant, crushing weight that presses against the ribs and rattle the teeth, vibrating in the chest cavity and dulling the ability to think. The music is not auditory, it is physical trauma. It is too loud to talk, forcing communication into desperate gestures and hungry touches. Above the thunder, a high-frequency wash of distorted synths and piercing metallic drum loops ensures the club atmosphere is one of perpetual, aggressive energy.

“Perfect for fueling Khaid's internal frenzy” He smirks.

The air inside is thick and humid, a chemical fog that tastes of desperation. It is a volatile mix of saccharine scent of expensive champagne and spilled cocktails fighting a losing battle against the acrid burn of synthetic sweat, human exertion, and cheap, layered perfumes. This density makes every movement feel heavy, pulling the patrons deeper into the current of chaos. It is an environment that excuses excess, turning the most sophisticated individual into an animal driven by base desire.

As he enters, the atmosphere shifts and everyone paves way for the show himself. Everyone turns to his direction. They've been waiting for the King of The Void vibes. The king of deals and women. Mouths slack and drool in admiration until enthusiastic shouts erupted from one side of the club. Everyone catches the drill and starts shouting.

“Khaid!”

“King of my heart!”

“See those muscles under the shirt”

“Just one night, bad boy!” A lady screams desperately.

Khaid chuckles and moves towards her, grabs her by the throat and whispers in her ear. “Meet me” He releases her and licks his lips like the playboy he is. The crowd erupts with shouts again. The girl has fainted.

Khaid moves in steady precise steps towards the VIP section. Work before girls.

“Mr. Jager, that was a spectacular entrance I must say” A man chuckles, puffing out smoke from his mouth and nose as he speaks.

Khaid laughs. “It's an attention you can't force, Bandon”

“It is Brandon”

“Sit” Khaid instructs which he grudgingly did. “What's the update?”

“The weapons are ready to be transported but. . .”

“What's the delay, Brandon? My girls are waiting”

“The money, Khaid” Brandon responds.

Brandon has not finished his statement when his phone rings. He picks it. “Received and confirmed boss” The person says on the other end”

“I don't need to remind you, Brandon. Don't snitch on me. My weapons must not be short of one. I will find you and hunt you down. How are your kids? Demi and Tumi, right?”

“How did you. . .” Brandon has a stupefied look on his face.

“Don't worry. Do my bid and life goes on smoothly for you. I rise, brother.”

“That sly thing!” Brandon huffs. His face gets red as he places a call and shouts orders across to his workers. “No mistake. I repeat, no mistake. . . Are they complete?. . . Good. . .The safe route. . . Great”

“Voiders, are you ready?” The hype man yells through the microphone.

“Yes!” The crowd erupts

“Ready to what?”

“To party!”

“With whom?” The hype man turns the microphone to the crowd.

“Khaid!”

“What did you say?”

“Khaid!”

“Louder!”

“K to the H to the A to the I to the D!”

“DJ. . . Let's go! Shake those booties and bazooms girlies. No dulling in The Void. Fill that void!”

Dancing starts in earnest. Everyone dances in two's, rocking and rolling sultrily. Girls are fighting to get Khaid's attention and he makes sure to give them a tip of the iceberg.

“You, follow me!” Khaid points to a curvy girl and makes his way towards the exit. Hate stares follow the girl as she giggles behind Khaid. Then time seems to stand still as everyone freezes. Shirt stains, head to chest collision and the painful hiss that follow thereafter. Someone bumps into Khaid.

The crash is less of a bump and more of a collision, like a speeding train meeting a wall of velvet. Khaid, already too far gone in the bass and the blood-haze of his own rage, feels the jolt travel through his arm and up his spine. He is moving, not like a man, but like an animal driven by base hunger, and the woman he just hit smells like rain and spiced honey, a scent entirely out of place in the club’s chemical fog.

“Get the right lens, boy” The obviously angry lady hissed in vexation. She bends down to pick the shattered glasses on the floor.

“You bumped into me” Khaid's voice is a menace.

“No, you bumped into me. How could you see when your eyes are inside the booties?”

The crowd gasps.

“Who does she think she is?”

“Isn't that the aphrodisiacs seller?”

“She dare look Khaid straight in the eye?”

“Such disgusting guts!”

“That poor thing!”

“You're rude” Khaid is trying to curtail himself from grabbing this tiny girl by her throat. For some reason he can't fathom, she amuses him.

“Satera” That's Bensjasmin's voice.

Tears are already gathering in her eyes. “How will I pay my rent with a spilled aphrodisiac?”

"Satera, let's go” Bensjasmin rushes to her and drags her by the arm.

“You brute!”

“Only ugly girls lose their mind” Khaid smirks and pushes her off the way.

He is visibly angry now. Kael sees him storming from a distance and quickly opens the car door without saying a word. He closes the car and rushes to the driver's side.

“Khaid. Khaid” The girl who was following him yelled after the moving car.

“Who is she? Who the heck is that thing?” He fumes.

“Who sir?” Kael is confused. His eyes dart from the rearview mirror to the road as he drives out of the club.

Khaid leans back and exhales.

“I will find you and feed your carcasses to the birds, stranger.”

“There's a problem, boss”

“What is it?”

“The consignment is. . .”

“Brandon likes fire, doesn't he?” He smirks in an evil manner. “Let's see how much fire he can play with.”

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