Gangster to Idol

Raneisha chuckled softly, shaking her head.

She'd never met a trainee like this before. No . . . scratch that. She'd never met anyone who had the guts to sing the ABC song to her with a straight face.

It was so unexpected that she found herself laughing, a genuine laugh, one that she hadn't experienced in ages.

The smile transformed her face, making her look younger, more approachable. And in that moment, Cain thought that she was really pretty.

"Agh. Your mouth is open," Fifi remarked, floating lazily beside him.

Cain snapped his jaw shut, irritation flaring. "Mind your own business."

"You are my business," she shot back with a smirk.

"You've got . . . guts, I'll give you that," Raneisha said, finally regaining her composure. Her eyes gleamed with a trace of amusement. "In that short moment, I made a few .

. . observations about your voice."

Her tone was calm, but there was something powerful behind it — like she had already sized him up, dissected him, and come to a decision before he even realized it.

Raneisha's eyes narrowed, her amusement vanishing in an instant. She leaned back in her chair, her voice suddenly cold and direct. "Let's be real, C.C. Your voice? It's pretentious."

Cain blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in her tone.

"You're straining so hard to sound nice, so hard to hit the right notes, that it's painful to listen to." She didn't bother softening her words. "You're pushing your voice beyond its natural range, and it's obvious. You're not singing — you're forcing it."

Her eyes locked onto his, unflinching. "If you keep this up, you'll damage your vocal cords. Permanently. Your throat isn't built to handle that kind of abuse."

The harshness of her words stung, but Raneisha didn't care. "You need to stop pretending you're something you're not, or you won't just lose this competition — you'll lose your voice entirely."

"Whoa, she could tell all that just from you singing the ABCs?" Fifi whispered, her awe evident as she gazed at Raneisha with a newfound respect.

Cain, however, wasn't shaken. Instead, he stood firm, eyes narrowing in thought. "So . . . what should I do? Your next journey awaits at m v|l-e'm,p| y- r

As you can see, I'm having trouble finding my voice," His voice was steady, but beneath it lay a flicker of something else — hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could really help him.

For the first time, Cain felt like he was standing before someone who could see past the surface — someone who might actually push him to be better, even if it stung.

Raneisha stood slowly, her gaze locked onto C.C. like a predator sizing up its prey. Each step she took toward him was deliberate, her presence looming larger with every inch closed.

Cain instinctively took a step back, feeling a strange chill run down his spine. The intensity in her eyes was enough to make him shudder. Was she about to — touch him?

And what's with that look? She's not into him, right? She's already 27 and he was only 21!

"W-what are you doing? Stay back!" Cain stammered, trying to sound tough, but his voice cracked just slightly.

Raneisha didn't stop. She kept coming, like an unstoppable force, her eyes never wavering.

Cain's heart raced. This wasn't part of the plan. Was she really going touch him?! He could feel his aversion to women bubbling up in full force.

"I warn you! I—I hit women!" Cain blurted out, gasping, taking another step back.

But Raneisha was unfazed. Without a word, she reached out her hand, and before Cain could process what was happening, she grabbed him by the collar. Her grip was firm, yanking him forward with surprising strength.

Cain's mind short-circuited. His aversion to women kicked in at full throttle, and for a moment, he was completely frozen — too shocked to defend himself.

And then, without any warning, Raneisha delivered a swift, brutal kick to his groin.

The world went dark for a split second as pain exploded through Cain's body. He gasped, eyes wide, unable to even form words. The absurdity of the situation hit him like a truck, but all he could think was: Did she just . . . kick me there?!

Raneisha didn't even say anything. She simply released his collar, watching him crumple slightly with a look of cold detachment.

Fifi burst out laughing, unable to contain herself. "Oh, this is priceless! You, the big bad gangster, getting dropped by the Queen!" she cackled, clutching her tiny sides.

Cain was too busy trying to remember how to breathe.

As soon as Cain could breathe again, his anger exploded. He lunged at Raneisha, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt, his fist just inches away from her face. "Woman! What the hell are you doing?! Are you trying to kill my future generations?!"

Raneisha, however, remained completely calm, her eyes locked on his, not even flinching. "That," she said coolly, "is your real voice."

Cain froze, caught off guard. "Huh?"

"When a person is angry, their real voice comes out — the tone, the intensity, the pitch. It all reveals itself. That's the limit of your voice, how far you'll go." She gave him a pointed look. "Remember that."

With a swift, dismissive slap, she knocked Cain's hand away from her collar and returned to her seat as if nothing had happened.

"I'll give you a made-up song according to your voice," Raneisha said, now completely nonchalant. "You're to sing it with no music. You'll set the rhythm and tone. Practice it for the next few days." She grabbed a stack of papers from the desk, and wrote over it before waving them in front of C.C. like it was the most casual thing in the world. "Here.

You can leave now."

Cain stood there, still dazed, clutching the papers in his hand as he slowly walked out of the room, his groin still aching as he muttered under his breath, "Still . . . you didn't have to kick me in the groin. A slap would've worked."

Raneisha, hearing his grumbling, smirked. "It's the most painful area and will surely bring out your real voice. Effective, right?"

Cain turned back to glare at her, the irritation clear on his face, before he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Just as he was walking down the hallway, he heard her call out, "By the way, you might want to get that checked. Just give me the receipt, and I'll cover it."

FUCK OFF! Cain wanted to say but held himself in the last moment, unless he wanted to be a meme again.

Outside, Leo immediately noticed C.C.s pale, sweating face and rushed over. "Are you okay? You look like you're in pain. I get it — she's way harsher than I thought, right?"

Cain shot him a deadpan look. "Did she . . . kick you in the groin?"

Leo blinked, baffled. "Huh? What? No! What are you talking about?"

"Never mind."

"Wait, wait, what's this receipt she mentioned?" Leo asked, thoroughly confused.

"Mind your own business!" Cain growled, storming off.

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|| A/N ||

We're about to hit 100 chapters, but somehow the reviews are still shy of 10. I mean, come on—there are more stray cats everyday in my house than that! 😹

So, if you're enjoying the chaos, drama, and maybe even the occasional groin kick, do me a solid and drop a review. Pleaaase? 🙏 I'll owe you big time (and so will my characters, who could use the moral support).

Thanks a ton! 🖤💫 You're the real MVP!