Chapter 108: Silent Threats

Micah’s POV

"I’m sure Jenson did all of this just to get my attention," Noah said, his voice flat and bitter as he turned off his phone screen.

He glided his cold gaze toward the window, glaring straight at the aggressive crowd of reporters standing outside the gate. They were waiting like bloodthirsty vultures for Noah to step out of the car. The moment he opened that door, they were going to swallow him whole.

A wave of pure panic rushed through my veins, making my chest tighten. What if Jenson had paid someone to mingle with those reporters? What if someone was hiding a knife in the crowd, waiting to stab Noah the moment he stepped into the light? I had seen endless rumors and news stories online about famous athletes and wealthy heirs getting brutally attacked by crazy fans or hired thugs in public places. The thought of seeing Noah covered in blood again made my stomach churn with nauseating fear.

"Why don’t you slowly back away and drive back to the house?" I begged, gripping the edge of my seat. "You don’t have to go to school today, Noah. Please. It’s too dangerous."

"I have training, and as captain, I’m already late," Noah gritted his teeth, his hand tightening around his gear bag until his knuckles turned white. "I can handle a few brainless reporters by myself. What I’m concerned about is you."

"Me?" I asked, pointing a trembling finger at my own chest.

"Yes, you," he said, turning his head to lock his heavy blue eyes onto mine. "The moment those reporters gather around my side of the car, open your door, slip out, and make sure you go straight to class."

"But I don’t have classes today," I replied softly, my heart pounding against my ribs.

"Then hang around the ice arena," he ordered, his tone leaving zero room for argument. "Stay inside where the campus security can guard you."

"But I..." I stuttered, my fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. I swallowed hard, feeling a sudden knot of anxiety in my throat. "Can I... can I go back to the club first?"

The air inside the car instantly froze.

"Micah!" Noah growled my name, his eyes flashing with a sudden, lethal rage that made me flinch backward against the leather seat.

"Wait! Wait!" I pleaded quickly, holding up both hands to defend myself before he could pull me back home. "It’s not for anything bad! I swear! I just want to tell Eve and the management that I’m officially quitting and never coming back! And besides... I left my school bag behind in the changing room yesterday. My phone is still inside it!"

Noah narrowed his eyes into dangerous slits. "That old, piece-of-trash phone? I’ll buy you a brand new one before the afternoon."

"My schoolbooks are in that bag too!" I added desperately, my voice cracking. "I need those notes for my upcoming exams, Noah! I can’t just throw them away!"

Noah let out a long, heavy sigh through his nose. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his jaw clenching tightly as he fought against his own rising temper.

"Micah," he muttered my name again, his voice dropping into a dangerous warning.

"I swear, I’ll return home as soon as humanly possible!" I swore, clutching my hands together in a desperate plea. "I won’t talk to any strangers, I won’t drink anything, and I won’t touch anything! I just need five minutes to grab my stuff and quit properly!"

Noah glared at me in dark, suffocating silence, clearly waiting for me to break down and change my mind. But I didn’t back down. I held his intense gaze, letting him see the desperation and sincerity in my eyes. The silence stretched between us until he finally let out another defeated exhale.

"Fine," Noah snapped coldly. "You have exactly one hour. If you aren’t back or calling me in sixty minutes, I am tearing that club down brick by brick."

"Thank you!" I blurted out, a massive wave of relief sweeping over me.

Before he could change his mind, I reached for the door handle, popped it open, and rushed out of the car into the cool morning air.

Just like Noah predicted, the swarming crowd of reporters didn’t pay a single bit of attention to me. The second Noah stepped out of the driver’s side carrying his heavy hockey gear, the reporters swarmed him like a pack of wild wolves, shouting questions, flashing cameras, and shoving microphones straight into his face.

My heart squeezed with worry as I looked back over my shoulder. Noah stood tall and completely unbothered in the middle of the chaos, his cold, intimidating presence forcing the reporters to keep a respectful distance. Seeing that he was holding his ground, I quickly turned around, flagged down a yellow cab at the corner of the street, and slid into the back seat.

"Where to, kid?" the driver asked.

I gave him the address of the underground club, and within twenty minutes, the cab pulled up along the quiet, alleyway entrance of the venue.

I paid the driver, hurried out of the car, and pushed through the back entrance. The club felt eerily different during the daytime. The heavy neon lights were shut off, the thumping bass was completely silent, and the entire venue felt like a cold, empty tomb.

I navigated through the dim hallways until I reached the main office. Sitting behind the glass desk was Eve, scrolling through her tablet with a weary look on her face. The moment she heard my footsteps and looked up, her sharp eyes trailed over me from head to toe, checking every inch of my body before she exhaled a deep, heavy breath.

"You have no idea how worried I was about you yesterday," Eve said, leaning back in her leather chair.

"I’m so sorry, Eve," I apologized instantly, bowing my head with guilt. "I don’t remember much of what happened yesterday after I drank those glasses. But I really want to apologize for the mess and the chaos my brother caused here."

Eve shook her head, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "I should be the one apologizing to you, Micah. George Jenson had no right to force you to drink like that."

Forced me to drink? I blinked in confusion. It wasn’t as if George had physically grabbed my jaw and poured the alcohol down my throat. I was the stupid one who chose to chug all five glasses of heavy liquor just so he would leave me alone and let me leave and head back home on time.

Well... okay. Considering how terrifying George was acting, maybe he really did force me.

"It’s fine, Eve," I offered her a quick, reassuring smile, waving my hand in the air to brush it off. "It’s all over now anyway. Besides, I came here today to tell you and Phoenix that I won’t be able to come here and work anymore. I’m really sorry... but I’m afraid that if I ever step foot in this place again, my brother might actually burn the whole building down."

Eve’s lips tugged upward into a faint, knowing smirk.

"I don’t doubt it," Eve murmured, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Those two men paid fifty million each last night just so they could claim you and get you out of that room. I don’t even want to imagine what kind of war they would start if we tried to make you work another shift here."

My entire face flushed bright, violent red.

Fifty million each?!

My jaw almost hit the floor. Noah and Damon actually spent fifty million dollars just to get me out of that room?! Embarrassment crashed over me so hard that my knees felt weak. I couldn’t even form a sentence to respond to that.

"Phoenix isn’t around right now," Eve continued, breaking through my inner panic. "He’s still out searching the city for Sunny. But he completely expected that you’d come back today to say all of this, so he asked me to give you something before you left. Come inside."

She stood up from her chair and walked toward the inner office.

I quickly followed her, trying to hide my burning cheeks behind my hands. I assumed she was going to hand me my forgotten school bag, but as soon as we entered the office, Eve walked straight over to the desk, unlocked the top drawer, and pulled out a thick, heavy brown envelope.

She turned around, walked back to me, and thrust the envelope straight into my chest.

"Here you go," Eve said simply. "You worked here for two days, so you get paid for two days of work."

"What?" I blinked in utter shock, looking down at the massive envelope in my hands. "But... but I didn’t even do anything! I didn’t perform properly, I ruined the evening, and my brother caused a riot!"

"It doesn’t matter," Eve stated firmly, cutting off my protest. She forced my fingers to wrap tightly around the heavy paper. "You signed for trial shifts, you showed up, and you put on a outfit. Phoenix pays his workers fairly, no matter what happens. Your school bag is still hanging in the changing room down the hall. Make sure you grab it before you leave. I wish you all the best, Micah."

"T-thank you, Eve..." I stammered, completely overwhelmed by her kindness.

I stood there in shock as Eve gave me a final, gentle nod before walking back to her main desk. I looked down at the brown envelope in my hands. It was heavy, thick, and stiff. I wasn’t stupid—I knew immediately that it was packed with stack upon stack of pure, crisp cash. My heart hammered against my ribs as I clutched the envelope tightly against my chest. I had never held so much money in my life.

I turned around and walked briskly down the dim corridor toward the main dressing room.

The changing room was dead silent and completely empty. Since the club only opened its doors late in the evening, all the other entertainers and hosts were still fast asleep in their private dorms or apartments. It was a convenient, nocturnal lifestyle... one that I clearly wasn’t built for.

I walked over to the row of lockers, and right there on the wooden bench was my worn-out canvas school bag, sitting exactly where I had left it yesterday afternoon.

I let out a soft sigh of relief. I quickly unzipped the front pocket of my bag, shoved the heavy brown envelope deep into the bottom compartment, and pulled out my old, cracked smartphone.

I held the phone in my hand for a brief second, feeling a sudden surge of nervous anxiety. I silently wished with all my heart that I wouldn’t see any notifications. After all, I didn’t have many friends at school, and I certainly didn’t know enough people to receive a pile of missed calls or urgent messages.

I pressed the power button on the side of the screen.

The display lit up with a dim, flickering light.

The moment the lock screen unlocked, my entire body went rigid. The blood in my veins turned to pure ice, and my breath caught violently in my throat.

Right there on the screen, sitting in bright red notification badges, were ten unread text messages.

And every single one of them was sent from the same contact number.

Father.

My heart instantly dropped straight to the floor, shattering into a million pieces as terror paralyzed me where I stood.