C4 Blindness love

Inside one of the most elite bars in the entire city…a place where wealth didn’t whisper, it screamed…the atmosphere shimmered with sin and sophistication. Crystal chandeliers dripped from the ceiling like frozen rain, each light refracting against polished marble floors that had never known a speck of dust. Everything gleamed…the glasses, the gold-trimmed tables, even the eyes of people hungry for pleasure.

Music thrummed through the air—low, seductive bass that made the velvet couches seem even softer, the movements of the dancers even slower, more hypnotic. Strip dancers, glistening under the moody lights, twirled around silver poles with practiced grace, their bodies moving like smoke, smooth and dangerous. Men in tailored suits watched with half-lidded eyes, swirling aged whiskey worth more than the average salary of a working-class family.

Perfume and cologne mingled with the scent of champagne…a scent that reeked of temptation and recklessness. Women in daring outfits laughed too loud at mediocre jokes, touching wrists, brushing shoulders, making promises with their eyes. This was not a place people came to relax. It was a place they came to forget.

In a velvet-draped private booth, two young men sat like kings among wolves…Samuel and Eliga.

Both were dressed sharply. Samuel wore a fitted black suit, his jawline dusted with faint stubble, giving him that effortless dangerous charm. Eliga, ever the sly observer, lounged back with a glass of whiskey, his expression unreadable.

“You’re thinking again,” Eliga said lazily, tipping his glass in Samuel’s direction.

Samuel didn’t look at him. His fingers drummed softly against the glass in his hand, eyes fixed on nothing and everything. “Just observing the circus.”

Eliga smirked. “A circus you willingly paid to enter.”

Samuel gave a humorless chuckle. “Touché.”

Eliga leaned forward, eyes narrowing slightly. “So… let’s get straight to it. Why do you care so much about Vivian?”

Samuel’s grip faltered slightly, the ice in his glass clinking.

Eliga continued, voice deceptively casual, “She doesn’t even care about herself…at least not enough to leave that toxic mess she calls a boyfriend. So why do you care, Samuel? Why does her stupidity keep you awake?”

Samuel exhaled slowly, jaw tightening. He swirled his whiskey before speaking, each word measured. “Vivian is… she’s beautiful, intelligent, rich. She has everything. But look who she’s wasting her time on. Victor is…”

“…disgusting?” Eliga finished with a grin.

“A walking disaster,” Samuel corrected, voice dark. “And she’s blind. Completely blind to it.”

Eliga chuckled. “You’re not just annoyed. You’re invested. There’s a difference.”

Samuel scoffed, running a hand over his face. “Relax. It’s not that deep. I’m just concerned. Love? No. She’s not even my type. And even if I wanted her, trust me…” He leaned back with a confident smirk. “She’d be mine already.”

Eliga burst into laughter. “Ah, yes. Samuel Fren . The man who believes every woman is one conversation away from falling at his feet.”

Samuel didn’t deny it. He raised his glass in arrogant agreement.

“But relax with the poetry,” Eliga continued dramatically. “From Vivian Dary to Vivian Fren? Oh, we are witnessing strange miracles!”

Samuel rolled his eyes. “You fool…”

“Wait.” Eliga’s playful tone evaporated. His expression sharpened like a blade. “Man. Look over there.”

Samuel followed his gaze.

And just like that…the calm shattered.

There, lounging in the VIP section like a self-proclaimed king, was Victor.

He wore a designer shirt, half unbuttoned to reveal a thick gold chain resting on his chest. Six…no, seven—girls draped themselves around him like accessories, touching his arms, whispering in his ear, tossing their hair in competition. His laugh echoed loud, arrogant, completely unbothered by the fact that he had just been humiliated in front of the university.

Samuel’s jaw locked.

That was Vivian’s boyfriend.

Vivian…who cried for him. Vivian…who held his hands like he was her entire world. Vivian…who promised him money just hours ago.

And here he was. Laughing. Drinking. Surrounded by girls who weren’t her.

Something cold settled behind Samuel’s ribcage. “He has some nerve,” he muttered. “For someone who won’t even be graduating with his year group. After four solid years.”

He didn’t shout. He didn’t need to. The sarcasm in Samuel’s words traveled like poison through air…subtle, quiet, deadly.

Victor’s laughter froze.

His head turned slowly, eyes colder than ice, scanning the room until they met Samuel’s.

The music kept playing.

The dancers kept dancing.

But the tension shifted, crackling like electricity beneath the golden lights.

Slowly…deliberately…Victor stood.

His entourage of girls parted like obedient servants.

He descended the steps from the VIP section, each step echoing with lethal pride. People turned to watch. Some recognized him. Some recognized Samuel. They could smell the oncoming storm.

Victor stopped at Samuel’s table, towering above him.

“What,” Victor said, voice low, dangerous, “did you just say?”

Samuel didn’t stand.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t even break his relaxed posture.

He simply slid one hand into his pocket and lifted his glass, swirling the whiskey with calculated indifference. “I said,” Samuel repeated, voice calm, “that if anyone should be loud tonight… it’s the ones actually graduating. Not the ones being dragged out by security on graduation day.”

A murmur swept through the room.

Victor’s jaw flexed. “What makes you think you can speak to me like that?”

“Oh,” Samuel took a slow sip, not breaking eye contact. “I don’t need to think. You’re the one who should start thinking. Maybe think about why you treat Vivian like trash when she practically feeds you.”

That landed.

Hard.

Victor laughed…a hollow, venom-laced sound. “So this is about my girlfriend? Big man, don’t be an idiot.”

Samuel set his glass down with a soft clink.

“Did you just call me an idiot?” he said, voice dropping, growing colder. “At least I’m graduating with my class. Can you say the same?”

That line detonated like a grenade.

Victor’s face twisted. Rage coiled around him like smoke.

He stepped forward until their noses nearly touched. The bar lights flickered across his eyes, making them look almost feral. “Don’t play with me, Samuel. I’m from the streets. I can teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”

Samuel laughed…a short, sharp sound.

A tiny speck of saliva flew from his lips and landed on Victor’s cheek.

That was it.

Victor snapped.

His fist flew like a bullet, connecting with Samuel’s jaw with a sickening crack. Samuel’s body crashed backward over the plush seat, his glass shattering on the floor. Pain exploded through his face, metallic blood filling his mouth.

Victor’s fist lifted again…

But two massive bouncers lunged, grabbing him by the arms and dragging him back.

“Let me go!” Victor snarled, thrashing like a wild dog. “I’ll kill him! Let me go!”

Samuel lay still for a moment, breathing heavily, tasting blood and fury. Eliga dropped to his knees beside him, concern flickering across his usually playful eyes.

“Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Samuel spat blood on the floor, wiping his jaw with the back of his hand, eyes blazing.

“He’s not getting away with this.”

⸻

Meanwhile…

On the other side of the city, inside a palace-like mansion that could only be owned by unimaginable money, Vivian laughed like a child discovering magic.

Her joy echoed through the dining hall, which was adorned with gold-lined pillars, silk curtains, and a chandelier so massive it could pay an entire year’s tuition for thousands of students.

“Daddy! Fifty million dollars just for graduating?!” Vivian squealed, nearly spilling her juice.

Her father…Mr. Dary, a man whose name made businessmen kneel….smiled with pride. “Vivian, you’re the daughter of the wealthiest man in this region. Giving you just fifty million would be an insult to my reputation.”

Vivian blinked. “So…?”

He leaned back with casual power. “So here’s what I’m really giving you: Choose any house…villa, mansion, coastal palace. Pick two cars. A vacation anywhere in the world. And when you’re ready… I’ll begin handing you the company. With proper training, of course.”

Vivian let out a scream of pure happiness and threw herself into his arms. “Thank you, Daddy! Thank you!”

She ran to her mother, hugging her with equal excitement. “Thank you, Mummy!”

As she spun around the room in delight…the same time Samuel bled on a bar floor, and Victor laughed with strangers…Vivian lived in a fantasy untouched by reality.

Cecilia stood near the entrance, watching her friend with a bittersweet smile. “I’m so proud of you, bestie,” she said softly, wiping a tear. “You deserve all of it. Congratulations.”

⸻

Later, in Vivian’s grand bedroom…larger than most apartments…she sprawled across her velvet couch, scrolling through dream houses on her tablet.

“So, which house should I pick?” she giggled. “Villa? Or a mansion? Ugh, this is so hard.”

Cecilia laughed weakly. “Relax. Your dad didn’t give you a deadline. Think it through.”

“I know, I know.” Vivian twirled before her mirror, her silk dress flowing. “Okay, Ceci. Guess what I’m thinking.”

“You’re unpredictable,” Cecilia said. “I can’t guess your brain.”

“Fine. I’ll tell you.” Vivian clasped her hands dramatically. “I’m thinking about my wedding.”

Cecilia paused. “Your… what?”

“My wedding!” Vivian gasped, glowing. “It’ll be grand. People will talk about it for years. And of course, you’ll be my chief bridesmaid!”

Cecilia stared. “Vivian. Don’t tell me…”

Vivian smiled dreamily. “Yes. I want to marry Victor.”

Silence.

Then…

Cecilia clutched her head like she had been stabbed. “Over my dead body. If you marry him, may lightning strike me right there at the altar.”

Vivian gasped. “Ceci!”

“I’m serious,” Cecilia said coldly, eyes hard. “You’re not planning a wedding. You’re planning a funeral….and you’re the bride.”

Vivian’s breath caught.

Somewhere far away, Samuel touched his bruised jaw and made a promise.

Somewhere in the city, Victor sat in the back of a vehicle, seething.

And in a mansion made of gold and lies…

Vivian Dary had no idea her life was about to burn.