Villain: My Revenge Begins with Eating his Mother

October 2021, Spirit City

Cherry Blossoms Club – Private Room

The scent of polished wood and aged whisky clung to the air as I sat in the dimly lit private lounge of Cherry Blossoms Club. The room had an elegance about it, with its warm, golden lighting and fine furnishings, but none of it put me at ease.

There was an unshakable tension curling in my chest, each breath I took feeling heavier than the last. I wasn't here for pleasure. Business had brought me to this place, though it wasn't going as I'd expected.

I had agreed to this meeting with Zhan Tian, Spirit City's pharmaceutical magnate, because my family's company desperately needed his support. The Lin Group had taken hit after hit in the market, and I knew if I didn't find investors soon, the fallout would be disastrous. My decision wasn't made lightly; it was about survival.

But he didn't show.

Instead, I found myself surrounded by strangers—men with predatory eyes who reeked of liquor and unchecked arrogance. Their presence suffocated me.

I adjusted the strap of my dress, the rich burgundy fabric clinging to me like a second skin. It had been a deliberate choice—tasteful, elegant, but flattering enough to make a lasting impression. The neckline dipped just enough to show off my collarbone and a hint of cleavage, balancing professionalism with confidence.

But now, it felt like a mistake.

Their stares burned into my skin, lingering too long, taking liberties I hadn't granted. The table before me was cluttered with glasses and a half-empty bottle of red wine. My own glass sat mostly untouched, though one of the men didn't seem to care.

He leaned forward, a portly man with a greasy sheen to his thinning hair, and poured me another drink without asking. His smile didn't reach his eyes as he slid it toward me.

"You should relax, Mrs. Lin," he said, his tone mockingly light. "It's just a drink. Nothing to be afraid of."

"I don't drink with strangers," I replied, my voice firm, though my hand trembled slightly as I pushed the glass aside.

The man beside him—a thinner one with sharp eyes that reminded me of a weasel—smirked as he circled behind me. His presence prickled at the back of my neck, each step calculated, invasive.

"Come now," he said, his voice low but condescending. "Why are you playing hard to get? Everyone knows why you're really here. You think you can save your failing company by talking business? Don't make me laugh."

I stiffened at his words, refusing to show how deeply they cut.

"That's enough," I snapped, trying to maintain control of the room.

But my protest only seemed to embolden him. He stepped closer, pulling a small vial from his pocket and holding it up for everyone to see.

"You might as well stop pretending, Mrs. Lin," he sneered. "You agreed to meet Mr. Zhan, but you were just hoping to climb into his bed, weren't you? If you've changed your mind, no problem. One more glass, and I promise you won't feel a thing."

Before I could react, he poured the contents of the vial into the wine glass. My stomach churned as I watched the liquid dissolve instantly, and though every instinct in my body screamed at me to leave, another man grabbed my arm, his grip firm enough to hurt.

"You can't leave yet," he said, his voice low and threatening. "Not before a toast."

"I'm not drinking," I said, my voice rising as I tried to pull my arm free.

But before I could resist further, the portly man snatched the glass and shoved it toward me. His greasy fingers dug into my chin, forcing my head back as he poured the wine down my throat.

The bitterness of it stung, but what scared me more was the tingling sensation that followed almost immediately. I coughed, but it was too late. My vision blurred, my head swimming as the effects of the drug began to take hold.

"There you go," one of them cooed mockingly. "Doesn't that feel better?"

My heart pounded wildly, but my body betrayed me, growing sluggish, unresponsive. I struggled to focus, gripping the edge of the table so tightly that my nails dug into the wood.

"Agghh...y...I don't ," I gasped.

"Haha! Mrs. Lin is too shy ," the greasy-haired man said, his breath hot against my cheek.

His hand moved to my waist, his touch sending a surge of nausea through me. I wanted to scream, to push him away, but my strength was ebbing fast. My lips trembled as tears threatened to spill over.

The room spun around me, their laughter blurring into a cruel symphony.

And then, suddenly, the door slammed open, the sound breaking through the haze like a thunderclap.

"Stop. Right now."

The voice was cold, commanding, and sharp enough to silence the men instantly. I turned my head sluggishly, my vision swimming as I tried to make out who had entered.

Through my blurred vision, I saw him—the man who stood in the doorway, his presence striking and impossible to ignore.

His face was sharp, as if it had been chiseled from stone, with eyes as dark as obsidian, piercing through the fog that clouded my mind.

Every feature on him was perfectly defined—strong, masculine, but not overpowering. His muscles moved beneath his coat, not too much, just enough.

As he stepped into the room, the cool breeze from the corridor made his overcoat flutter, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to blur into nothing.

God knows why, but a strange hope surged inside me, even as my body burned with the effects of the drugs I had been forced to ingest.

"Please… save me."

The words barely escaped my lips.

His gaze swept over the men before landing on me. For a moment, something flickered in his expression, anger, disdain, or pity, I couldn't tell, but it vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.

"You'd better think carefully before touching her again," he said as he stepped further inside. Each word dripped with venom, his tone calm but lethal.

The men shuffled uneasily, exchanging glances.

"And who are you supposed to be?" one of them challenged, though his voice lacked conviction.

"I'm Yu Shangrong, someone who has no qualms about erasing you from existence,"

He replied coldly. His gaze flicked back to me, the state of my disheveled appearance seeming to solidify his anger.

"I suggest you think carefully before acting," Yu Shangrong said, his voice smooth but laced with venom as he strode confidently into the room.

My body was on fire, burning with the effects of the aphrodisiacs. My thoughts were cloudy, but the moment his eyes met mine, everything inside me shifted.

The men instinctively took a step back as Yu Shangrong advanced.

"Why don't you take a good look at yourselves before you touch something that doesn't belong to you?" he said.

But I barely heard his words. My body moved before my mind could catch up, leaning toward him, craving his touch.

His hand closed around mine, and the heat in my veins surged, the tension in my chest tightening with every step he took toward me.

"I—"

The words caught in my throat, but my lips betrayed me.

The hunger to kiss him, to be closer, was overwhelming. In one swift motion, my mouth found the side of his neck.

I kissed his skin, desperate, as if it was the only thing holding me to reality. My hands grabbed the fabric of his coat, pulling him closer as my breath grew shallow with every movement.

One of the men, bolder than the others, stepped forward.

"And who are you to interfere? Do you even know who you're messing with?"

Yu Shangrong didn't flinch.

"You're right. I don't,"

He replied.

The man sneered, his confidence returning.

"And yet you dare ruin our fun? Aren't you afraid of death?"

Yu Shangrong's eyes darkened, but his attention never wavered from me.

"Death stopped frightening me a long time ago."

His gaze shifted briefly toward me, and that fleeting moment only intensified the haze clouding my mind.

I could feel the heat radiating off his body, the firmness of his muscles against mine. My lips found the side of his neck again, shameless, pressing harder, my body no longer in control.

"I'll make this simple. This woman is the mother of the Black Tiger gang's leader. If you touch her, your families will be wiped out before dawn."

"What about you? Aren't you the same?" one of them retorted.

"I'm her husband."

The words landed like a hammer, striking silence into the room.

The men recoiled visibly. The mention of the Black Tiger gang was enough to erase whatever bravado they had left. I barely noticed the exchange; I was too consumed by the growing ache inside me.

When he claimed to be my husband, the lust inside me flared, and before I could stop myself, I slid my hand inside his pants. Maybe it was the drugs, but I could feel the hard outline of his arousal, and I knew he was just as affected.

"Honey... make love to me," I said, shameless in my desire.

The greasy-haired man gave a weak laugh, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"We were just talking business, friend. That's all. We're law-abiding citizens!"

But I couldn't focus on their words anymore. Yu Shangrong didn't waste a moment, lifting me effortlessly, his arms around me, pulling me into his embrace.

All reason slipped from my mind, and I clung to him, body pressed against his, instinctively drawn to him.

I was being carried by a man—a stranger, someone I had just met—but it didn't matter.

At least I wouldn't have to endure the touch of those rogues anymore.

"This night ends here," he said in a low voice. "Go home. All of you."

The men hesitated, clearly rattled, but they retreated into the shadows, beaten without a word.

"Where is your home, Ms.?" he asked, his voice softer now.

Maybe it had been almost two decades since my husband died, and I hadn't felt a man's touch in all that time, or maybe it was the drugs, but the words tumbled from my lips before I could stop them.

"Home? Are you a eunuch? Why don't we just go to a motel instead?"

"___"

He didn't reply, his expression unreadable as he guided me toward the door. But his grip on me tightened.

This wasn't over, and we both knew it.

( End of the chapter )