The night Sylvain's life ended began with rain. The relentless, unforgiving kind that swallowed the city whole. Sheets of water poured from the sky, turning the streets into black rivers reflecting neon lights and broken dreams.
Sylvain stood beneath the flickering awning of a convenience store, staring at the message glowing on his phone.
Leon Vale – Detained by Financial Crime Investigation Unit.
His fingers tightened around the device until his knuckles turned pale. For a long moment, he didn't breathe.
Ten years ago, the name Vale had meant power, influence, untouchable wealth. Their family's corporation had dominated entire markets, their mansion had been the center of elite gatherings, and Sylvain himself had lived like royalty among the country's upper class.
People used to call him the Prince of Vale. Now the only thing left of that empire was a frozen bank account, a seized mansion, and a younger brother sitting in a cold cell.
Sylvain closed his eyes briefly, pressing two fingers against the bridge of his nose.
"Sir?" He looked up.
The convenience store clerk was watching him nervously from behind the counter, clearly wondering why a tall, well-dressed man had been standing outside for nearly twenty minutes without moving. Sylvain straightened slowly.
"I'm fine," he said. His voice sounded calm. It always did.
That was something Sylvain had perfected long ago—never letting the world see him break. Even when the entire world collapsed.
He slipped the phone into his coat pocket and stepped back into the rain, walking into the station directly opposite the convenience store.
The police station smelled like old coffee and damp paperwork.
Sylvain had visited places like this before, but always from the other side of the table. His father used to donate millions to the justice system. Prosecutors and politicians had attended the same charity dinners as the Vale family.
Now the guards barely glanced at him. They certainly didn't recognize him.
"Name?" the officer at the desk asked lazily.
"Sylvain Vale."
The officer paused for a second, clearly recognizing the name from the recent news scandal. But instead of respect, a faint smirk appeared.
"Ah. The famous family."
Sylvain didn't react. "I'm here for Leon Vale."
The officer typed slowly, dragging the moment out in a way that felt intentional.
Then he leaned back. "Your brother is being investigated for corporate fraud linked to the Vale Corporation collapse."
Sylvain's jaw tightened. That accusation again.
The media had used every word imaginable to describe the fall of the Vale empire. But Sylvain knew the truth.
His father had been many things—ambitious, ruthless in business—but he had never been sloppy. The entire collapse had happened too quickly. Too perfectly. Like someone had planned it.
"Can I see him?" Sylvain asked quietly.
The officer shrugged. "For five minutes." He led Sylvain to a room.
Leon looked smaller than Sylvain remembered. The eighteen-year-old sat hunched at the metal table, his brown hair messy and his eyes red from lack of sleep.
When he saw Sylvain walk in, his face immediately crumpled. "Brother…"
Sylvain closed the door behind him. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Leon suddenly stood. "I didn't do anything, our parents should know what happened." he blurted out desperately. "I swear I didn't. They said the company accounts were used for illegal transfers, but I never touched them...."
"I know, but we still haven't found mom and dad," Sylvain's voice sounded.
Leon stopped talking.
Sylvain walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know you didn't do it."
Leon's eyes filled with tears. "They said the settlement amount is huge," he whispered. "If we can't pay it, they'll send me to court. If the charges stick…" He couldn't finish the sentence.
Sylvain didn't need him to. Fraud charges tied to billions of dollars didn't end with a fine. They ended with prison.
"How much?" Sylvain asked.
Leon hesitated for a moment before replying. "A hundred million."
Sylvain felt something cold settle in his chest.
It was impossible. Completely impossible.
The Vale family accounts were frozen. Their properties had been seized. Their investors had vanished overnight.
Sylvain had barely managed to rent a small apartment using the last of his personal savings. That kind of money might as well have been the moon.
Leon lowered his head. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
Sylvain's fingers tightened on the table. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"But..."
"Leon." His voice was firm. The younger boy looked up.
Sylvain forced a small smile. "I'll handle it," he said as he walked out of the room, devastated.
Three hours later, Sylvain stood in front of a building that looked nothing like a solution.
The sign above the entrance glowed through the rain.
THE GILDED CAGE
From the outside, it looked like an exclusive nightclub reserved for the elite. But Sylvain had spent the last three hours digging through rumors, forums, and conversations.
He knew exactly what kind of place it was.
A club where the rich didn't just come for drinks and entertainment. There were rumors about the sales of humans.
The city's wealthiest monsters came here to indulge their darkest desires.
Sylvain stared at the entrance for a long moment.
Ten years ago, people would have lined up to shake his hand. Now he was standing outside a place like this, preparing to sell the only thing he had left.
His pride and dignity.
Sylvain looked tired, but still looked stunning. Which was probably exactly why the club would accept him. He stepped inside.
The interior of The Gilded Cage was quiet. Too quiet for a nightclub. Soft music drifted through the air, and dim golden lights reflected off polished marble floors.
A woman in an elegant black dress approached him almost immediately. Her smile felt genuine.
"Good evening. You must be Sylvain," she said smoothly. "Are you here as a guest… or an offering?"
Sylvain held her gaze. "An offering."
The woman studied him more carefully now. Her eyes flicked over his face, his posture, the expensive coat that was clearly the last remnant of a former life.
Then she smiled wider. "You'll do very well here." She gestured for him to follow.
As they walked deeper into the club, Sylvain noticed several private doors along the corridor. Behind them, faint sounds echoed—the distant creak of furniture, laughter, and low voices. He kept his expression blank.
Finally, they stopped in front of a large black door. The woman turned to him. "Your client has already paid the full amount."
Sylvain's breath caught slightly. Already?
That meant someone had chosen him immediately. "Before you go in," she continued calmly, "there are a few rules." Sylvain waited.
"You will obey whatever the client asks. No questions. And you will not attempt to learn their identity unless they reveal it themselves."
Sylvain nodded slowly. "That's fine." He didn't care who the client was. He just needed the money.
The woman opened the door. Inside was complete darkness. "Good luck." The door closed behind him.
Sylvain couldn't see anything. The darkness felt thick, almost suffocating. "Hello?"
There was no response.
Somewhere in the darkness ahead, footsteps measured slowly approached him.
Sylvain's pulse began to race.
He reminded himself why he was here and forced himself to kneel. "I… understand why you bought the night," Sylvain said, his voice naturally uneasy.
Still no answer.
A cold leather gloves hand closed around his throat.
The grip wasn't tight enough to choke him. But it was enough to make him gasp. The man behind him still hadn't spoken. Sylvain's breath trembled. "Please."
The word tasted like poison. "Do whatever you want." The hand tightened slightly. Sylvain's heart pounded violently. "Just… pay me."
For a long moment, the man in the darkness said nothing. Then a low chuckle filled the room. And something about that sound made a strange chill crawl down Sylvain's spine. Like he definitely had heard it before.
But before he could think about it, the man shoved him forward onto the bed.