Chapter 109: Mastermind Victims 1

Micah’s POV

Father rarely messaged me directly. In fact, he almost never had anything he wanted to discuss with me face-to-face or person-to-person. Whenever he wanted to deliver an order, demand an update, or express his disappointment, he always spoke to me through other people. He used my professors, my academic supervisor, the vice chancellor of the university, and most of all, Noah.

I was just an after-thought to him. A ghost sitting in his house.

So, knowing that he was trying to reach me directly on my phone meant one thing: he had tried every single one of his usual channels, failed to reach Noah, and was now resorting to me out of desperation.

My thumbs were shaking so hard I could barely hold the cracked screen steady. Sweat gathered at the base of my neck out of nowhere, my palms turning clammy as my heart thudded violently against my ribs.

It was just a text message, right? I just needed to press the screen and read it. Nothing bad was going to happen right this second.

I took a deep, shaky breath, squeezed my eyes shut for a microsecond, and forced my thumb down on the notification screen.

The text thread expanded, and my eyes darted frantically across the screen, reading through the rapid barrage of messages.

Father: Micah, where is your brother?

Father: Why am I unable to reach him?

Father: Tell him to call me immediately.

[Missed Call - 11:14 PM]

Father:Micah! Are you ignoring my texts now?

Father: Where the bloody hell are you?

[Missed Call - 7:22 AM]

[Missed Call - 7:35 AM]

Father: Don’t make me come home because of you. You’ll regret it so badly.

Father:What is this news I hear about your brother on the morning feeds?

Father: Is someone trying to set him up?

Father:Still ignoring my message, right? Your death can only be an excuse for this neglect.

Father:I’ll be home in the evening.

I gasped out loud, slapping my palm hard over my mouth as my stomach dropped into a bottomless pit.

I’ll be home in the evening.

Those five words echoed in my head like a death sentence. Father was coming back tonight. If he came home and discovered what Noah had done to George Jenson... if he found out that Noah had broken the rival captain’s fingers and dragged our family name through a massive media scandal... he would blow a fuse. And if he found out where I had been last night...

Panic clawed aggressively at my throat, making it almost impossible to catch a proper breath.

"Wow... Such a father you have there," a smooth, mocking voice suddenly purred from right behind me.

I froze, my entire body going rigid with shock.

I turned around, pulling my phone tight against my chest as if to hide the evidence. Standing right behind me in the doorway of the quiet dressing room was Camille. His long, silky hair was tied back into a loose, elegant ponytail, and he was wearing an expensive gold silk night robe draped over his clothes, looking as glamorous and unbothered as ever.

"W-what are you even doing here?" I stammered out, my voice trembling as my heart hammered against my chest. "Were you standing behind me the whole time?"

Did he read those text messages? What was he thinking right now? Didn’t he know anything about basic human privacy?

Camille leaned casually against the wooden doorframe, folding his arms across his chest as his dark eyes scanned my panicked face. He shook his head slowly, a dramatic, exaggerated expression of sorrow spreading across his flawless features.

"I heard from Eve that you were officially quitting today, so I came out here to check on you," Camille said, his voice dropping into a light, dramatic sigh. "Poor thing. I really had no idea you were only here on a short trial shift. Here I was, treating you like a serious rival for the past two days, competing with you like an idiot. Stupid me."

He stepped closer, shaking his head again with a look of pity that made my skin crawl. "Seeing the kind of completely fucked-up family you come from, all I can feel for you right now is pity."

My eyebrows drew together into a sharp frown. Anxiety instantly flared into cold irritation.

"Well, I don’t need your pity," I snapped, taking a firm step backward to put some space between us.

Camille tutted his tongue, making a small clicking sound against his teeth as he looked at me. He didn’t look angry or offended by my sharp tone. Instead, he kept that surprisingly gentle, pitiful look on his face.

"Just accept a proper goodbye from me," Camille said softly, spreading his long arms open wide. "After all, out of all the entertainers in this building, I’m practically the only host your age you actually talked to."

I raised an eyebrow, staring at him in complete disbelief.

Was this guy actually insane? What kind of wild mood swings was he going through today? Ever since I stepped foot into this club on my first day, Camille had treated me like trash. He had glared at me, made snide remarks, and acted like I was taking up his air. And now, suddenly, he was standing here offering me a warm, emotional hug without so much as an apology for his past behavior?

No... wait. I paused, processing the thought. Did he actually do anything terrible to me? He never physically harmed me. He never tried to sabotage my drinks or ruin my outfits. He was just jealous because of the sudden attention I received from wealthy guests.

And honestly... he was right about one thing. Apart from Eve and Phoenix, I didn’t know a single soul in this place.

I swallowed my pride, stepping forward while still clutching my phone firmly against my chest.

Camille leaned in and wrapped his long arms around my shoulders in a surprisingly warm, protective embrace. He gave my heavy school bag a gentle, affectionate tap on the back before pulling back slightly. Before I could even react, he planted two quick, affectionate kisses on both sides of my cheeks.

"Take care of yourself out there,," Camille said smoothly, his eyes dropping down to the dark screen of the phone held tightly in my hands.

His lips curved into a sharp, wicked smirk. "And by the way... I’m really glad you held your phone away from my sight just now. Trust me, if it were close to me, I would have snatched that phone right out of your hands and replied to every single one of those messages, telling your father what an absolute bitch-ass excuse of a parent he really is. Just like I did to my own father before I ran away."

My jaw dropped open in pure, unadulterated shock.

A loud gasp nearly escaped my throat. As much as I had secretly dreamed of doing something so wild and rebellious to my father, I knew with absolute certainty that doing so would make today my very last day on this earth. Father would literally have me erased.

Yet, seeing this raw, and surprisingly funny side of Camille made the heavy weight in my chest feel just a little bit lighter. The sharp edge of panic I had been carrying since opening those texts melted away into genuine warmth.

A soft, genuine smile curved across my lips. "Thank you, Camille. Really."

"Hmm," Camille hummed casually, waving a dismissive hand in the air as he turned on his heel and walked down the hallway. "Get out of here before your scary brother comes back to blow up the building."

I let out a short, quiet laugh. I took one last look around the empty, silent club before turning around and heading out the back exit into the morning sunlight.