Anton Petrova made his entrance with an air of arrogance, his eyes gleaming with a self-satisfied grin. As he approached, his gaze shifted from the grand event to Jessica.
His eyes swept over her with a lecherous hunger, making Ethan’s blood simmer. Standing beside him, Jessica tensed under the intensity of Anton’s stare, visibly uncomfortable.
Charles, sensing something was off, leaned in toward Ethan. “That’s Anton Petrova,” he whispered urgently. “He’s not just anyone. Middle-tier in the Petrova family, but here in Novan City? He’s treated like a king. People practically grovel at his feet because of his last name.”
Ethan nodded slightly, acknowledging Charles’ words. He did not really understand the weight of the Petrova name, but there was no way he would let Anton intimidate him.
Anton stepped closer, his gaze still lingering on Jessica. “Ethan Cole,” he said, voice smooth but laced with contempt. “Quite the impressive event you’ve put together. Really… it’s something.”
“Thank you, Anton,” Ethan replied evenly, maintaining his composure despite the growing tension.
Anton’s smirk deepened. “But you know, anyone can throw a grand party. Flash some money around and dazzle the crowd with tech—impressing the commoners is easy. Real power, though? That’s something else entirely.”
Ethan’s expression remained calm, though he could sense the underlying challenge in Anton’s words. He glanced at David, who subtly signaled for him to stay composed. “What are you getting at, Anton?” Ethan asked, his voice measured.
Anton stepped closer still, his arrogance palpable. “I’m talking about a contest. A real test of power. We, the elites, don’t just measure success by what we own. It’s about what you can do, how you prove your worth.”
Ethan frowned slightly. “I don’t follow.”
Anton grinned wider, stepping into Ethan’s space. “This isn’t the place for it. Follow me to where the elites gather. What happens next shouldn’t be seen by the commoners.”
Ethan hesitated. This was getting ridiculous. He had no interest in entertaining Anton’s ego trip. “I’m not interested, Anton. I didn’t come here to indulge in childish contests.”
But Anton wasn’t finished. His smirk turned darker as his hand shot out and grabbed Jessica’s wrist, holding it with a possessive grip. His touch was bold and inappropriate, full of lust. Jessica’s eyes widened in shock as she tried to pull away, but Anton’s grip tightened.
“See,” Anton drawled, his eyes full of disdain. “Even your assistant knows her place—”
Before he could finish, Ethan smacked Anton’s hand away from Jessica, the sharp slap echoing. “Let her go,” Ethan’s firm voice said, his gaze cold and unyielding. The crowd around them went silent, stunned by the sudden escalation.
Anton recoiled slightly, more from surprise than pain, but his expression darkened with embarrassment. His carefully cultivated arrogance had been shattered, and the humiliation stung. His eyes narrowed as he realized he had lost control of the situation.
Behind Anton, Nikolai Volkov’s eyes gleamed with malicious excitement. He had been watching closely, eager to see Ethan humiliated. Anton’s failure only fueled Nikolai’s desire to see Ethan brought down. He knew that Lena had been positioning herself within NovaTech.
Still, if Ethan’s reputation took a hit here tonight, it would disrupt her plans. And Nikolai loved nothing more than watching his cousin’s schemes unravel.
Desperate to regain the upper hand, Anton stepped back with a sneer. “You think you can humiliate me like that, Cole? You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
Anton straightened himself, addressing the elites gathered nearby. “Let’s settle this the way we do in our world. Strength, not money, decides everything. If you’ve got the guts, prove yourself. Or are you a coward?”
Ethan remained calm, though his patience was wearing thin. “I’m not here to play your games, Anton. I’m here for business.”
Anton’s smirk returned. “So, you’re afraid, then? Hiding behind your little wealth? You’ve got no power of your own, huh?”
The insult hung in the air, and before Ethan could respond, Marcus and Eric—two of Ridge Rovers’ players—noticed the altercation and hurried toward Ethan.
“This doesn’t look right,” Marcus muttered, his eyes narrowing as he watched Anton challenge Ethan.
“Let’s go. The boss might need us,” Eric replied, already moving toward them.
But before they could reach Ethan, two tall, imposing bodyguards stepped forward, blocking their path. Each wore the insignia of one of the Great Families, their presence radiating an unspoken authority.
The other bodyguards were already working to calm the nearby crowd, urging them to move away.
“Get lost,” one of the guards said, his voice deep and menacing. “This isn’t your place.”
Marcus frowned, his temper rising. “We just want to make sure everything’s okay.”
The guard didn’t budge. “This isn’t your concern. Move.”
Sensing that something was amiss, Eric moved to bypass them, but the second guard’s hand shot out, grabbing Eric’s arm with a grip like iron.
Eric tried to pull away, but the guard’s strength was unreal. With one swift motion, he pushed Eric back, forcing him several steps away with ease.
Seeing his teammate shoved back, Marcus tried to intervene, but the first guard grabbed his arm and pushed him aside just as easily. Both players were stunned, realizing they were no match for these so-called “bodyguards.”
Before they could protest further, Lena Volkov appeared. She moved effortlessly, flashing a small medallion bearing the Volkov insignia. The guards immediately bowed and stepped aside, allowing her to pass.
“Who the hell is she?” Eric muttered, watching in confusion.
Marcus shook his head, eyes still wide from the confrontation. “No idea.”
As Lena reached Ethan, she glanced briefly at Anton, then turned her attention to Ethan. Her voice was low but urgent. “Anton’s baiting you. Don’t fall into his trap.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened. “I’m not going to let him walk all over me.”
Anton, sensing Ethan’s hesitation, pressed on. “What’s wrong, Cole? You’re going to let a woman speak for you? Or do you not have the guts to face me yourself?”
Jessica, standing behind Ethan, was trembling with anger. “He’s just trying to embarrass you, Ethan. Don’t give him what he wants.”
But Ethan had had enough. Anton had disrespected Jessica and was now pushing him into a corner. The tension between them had reached a boiling point. Ethan stepped forward, his decision made.
“Alright, Anton,” he said, his voice steady. “Let’s settle this.”
A ripple of excitement passed through the gathered elites. Anton’s grin widened, knowing he had succeeded in drawing Ethan into his trap. He wasn’t just looking to win—he aimed to destroy Ethan’s reputation in front of Novan City’s elites.
Nikolai, standing nearby, smirked. This was exactly what he wanted. If Anton could embarrass Ethan here, NovaTech would suffer. And with the Great Families watching, any feud between Anton and Ethan would quickly turn into a city-wide effort to crush NovaTech.
Lena, watching with concern and curiosity, took a step back. She knew Anton had the upper hand, but something about Ethan made her believe he might be more than Anton expected.
She remembered Mark and Zidan mentioning Aric’s impressive combat skills a few days ago. Tonight might just be her chance to see him in action.
Moreover, this could be a golden opportunity to get the upper hand on Ethan should things not go his way. On the flip side, if Ethan manages to come out on top, it could mean he has skills or background that could work in her favor.
Anton signaled Ethan to follow him to a private spot reserved for the elite, signaling the start of their challenge. This was more than just a test; it was a fight for influence and respect.
Ethan, fully understanding the stakes, walked with Anton. He knew this wasn’t just any competition—a battle he was determined not to lose.
