Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

The mansion loomed above him, swallowing the sunlight as the massive black doors creaked shut behind him. It was as if the whole damn place exhaled, pressing against his chest with a weight he'd almost forgotten. Almost.

Two weeks. Fourteen days. That's all it took to feel what life could be outside this hellhole. To taste freedom—the kind where you didn't have to watch your back every second or hold your breath around your so-called family. He could still feel it, the ghost of those days haunting him now. New York. The late-night meetings, the luxury dinners. Ava's sharp wit, Claire and Alina's easy banter, Cassidy's piercing gaze.

The quiet moments with Tessa. Moments where he was someone else—someone free, someone whole who had felt the warmth of a human being after so long.

But here? Here, it was like all of that was a dream he had no right to keep. This place felt like it was tightening its grip on him again, whispering you'll never leave me.

The air smelled the same. Cold, expensive, and sterile. Not like a home. Like a stage. A performance.

And the worst part? He knew why it hurt so much.

This house had carved him. No, they had. The monsters who stood just a few feet ahead, their backs turned, already moving deeper into the mansion.

Julian, the arrogant prick who wore his Harvard and rich status like a badge of honor. Annabelle, always parading around like her beauty was a damn weapon, always throwing insulting jokes around. Robert, barking orders like the whole world was beneath him. And Helena. Cold. Calculating. Always watching.

They were the reason he was like this now. Cold. Angry. Twisted. And no matter how strong he had become—how much money he had, how much power he had—they had planted that seed when he was just a kid.

That scared, broken child who flinched when voices got too loud.

Parker felt it creeping back. That ache in his chest. The one that whispered," You don't belong. You're still weak. You're still theirs."

No.

No.

His fists clenched. He stopped dead center in the massive doorway, the marble floor cold under his feet as he stared at their retreating figures. His body felt heavy, but not in the same way it used to. This wasn't fear anymore. This was anger. This was a storm he'd kept bottled for too long.

And then, soft as a breath, he felt it. Warm fur brushing his neck. Ere.

The little creature pressed closer, her voice like silk, only for his ears. "Show them the demon they made, Parker."

His breath hitched. She was right. Discover more stories at My Virtual Library Empire

They wanted to break him? Fine. But they didn't get to cage him anymore.

The Caged Sovereign was about to be unleashed!

And the Blackwoods were going to taste their own damn medicine.

The heels of Helena's black pumps clicked softly against the marble floors as the Blackwoods led Parker deeper into the mansion. The place hadn't changed. Still a shrine to wealth—obnoxiously luxurious with that stupid need to remind you exactly how rich they were.

The living room alone was practically a gallery. Massive windows stretched from floor to ceiling, flooding the room with soft, filtered light. Velvet curtains hung in perfect folds like they belonged in a European palace. A crystal chandelier the size of a small car sparkled above, catching the light with a cold, unforgiving brilliance.

The furniture? Polished wood and white leather, all arranged with that soulless, magazine-cover perfection. No warmth. No personality. Just... expensive.

And there, sunk into the plush white couch like she was part of the decor, was Vivian Blackwood.

She didn't look up at first, completely absorbed in whatever was on her phone, thumbs scrolling with that lazy disinterest like the world was a never-ending bore. When she finally did glance up, it was a flicker of recognition—brief, passing. She blinked once at Parker, shrugged, and went right back to whatever was so fascinating on her screen.

No reaction. No shock. Just... nothing.

Parker exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. Yeah, typical.

Vivian was the odd one out here, and not in the same way he was. She didn't care. About anything. Him. The rest of this twisted family. Hell, probably not even herself half the time. He could drop a nuke in the middle of the mansion and she'd probably just ask for headphones to block out the noise.

She sat there cross-legged, wearing gray sweatpants and a loose white tank top, her brown hair carelessly tied up in a bun like she'd just rolled out of bed. No makeup. No effort. Just a blank stare and that constant, silent judgment you could feel radiating from her.

Parker didn't have anything on her. She didn't have anything on him. Vivian Blackwood just existed.

But Annabelle?

Now that was another story.

Annabelle was chaos wrapped in skin. Wherever she was, drama followed like a damn storm cloud. The polar opposite of Vivian's blank canvas. Annabelle had taken everything—beauty, charm, control, the spotlight—and turned it into a weapon.

And humility? Please. That was as likely as pigs sprouting wings and joining Delta. If there was a list of impossible things in the universe, right next to "world peace" and "Julian being less of a prick" was Annabelle Blackwood behaving like a normal human being.

Everyone settled into the uncomfortable silence.

Julian sat next to Robert, stiff, eyes narrowed as he kept stealing glances at Parker. Yeah, he was watching too closely, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. Like Parker was a threat he was still trying to size up.

And yet... neither of them said a word. Not yet. Not Robert. Not Helena.

The tension sat there, thick as hell, clinging to the air like fog.

Parker crossed his arms, sinking back into the leather seat, his face unreadable. Ere curled up comfortably on his lap, tail flicking like she owned the damn room. But his thoughts were moving fast.

They couldn't see it. Could they?

He wasn't worried. Not really. Even if there was a supernatural hiding in this mansion—and there wasn't—they wouldn't be able to see through him. The ring alone masked his aura completely. But his Omni energy? No being using Ether could detect that—not unless he made it known himself.

Right?

They were just... normal. Too normal. For all their power, their influence, they were nothing but humans. Parker had lived under this roof for thirteen years. He would've known if there was something supernatural here.

So what was this weird... tension? What was this weird suffocating aura on each of them.

The silence was finally broken when Annabelle scoffed, leaning back with a smirk.