CHAPTER 64: MESSING WITH MICHAEL

{Honestly,} Athena’s annoyed voice rang in Ethan’s ear, this time, through the helicopter’s headphones {if he glares at you one more time, I’ll lock all his devices out of the Internet for a week.}

They were currently in the helicopter, headed towards California. Ethan calmly leaned back and wanted to relax as much as possible, but Michael’s gaze on him wasn’t helping.

How Athena knew that he was being glared at? Maybe through a camera in the chopper, but he wouldn’t let her react to something so petty.

He looked at Michael who was still glaring at him before sighing, maybe he should let Athena lock him out of the Internet for a while.

Irina, on the other hand, was completely unbothered by whatever tension was between Michael and Ethan, she just leaned back and closed her eyes, whether asleep or not, was unknown.

Michael adjusted in his seat, still watching him. Ethan decided to make things more interesting. He leaned slightly toward him and spoke through the noise of the blades.

"If you keep staring, people might think you’re interested."

Although the sound of the rotating blades drowned out most of what he said, the headphones made sure to clearly transmit what he said.

Michael’s jaw clenched a little. This man, whoever he was, was either incredibly ballsy or stupid. Because he had never come across a human not fearful of the Reeves family....well, except Irina.

Or maybe it was because he hadn’t introduced himself yet. Regardless, this kid was pissing him off.

Irina’s lips twitched, almost as if she was trying to suppress a chuckle even though her eyes were closed.

Michael’s stare hardened, his fingers tightening on the strap of his harness as if imagining it was wrapped around this kid’s neck.

Ethan, entirely unfazed, shifted in his seat and closed his eyes, a faint, infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.

He was genuinely curious about what caused Michael’s downfall in the future, his guess was that it was related to Irina, but pulling his leg was kinda fun for now.

Michael leaned forward slightly, his voice cutting through the headset.

"You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that."

Ethan opened one eye lazily. "Or maybe I just know when not to be afraid."

Michael’s brows drew together, studying him as though trying to decide if that was courage, or stupidity.

Irina finally cracked, a quiet laugh escaping her before she tilted her head toward the window, pretending to watch the clouds.

Michael didn’t miss it. His gaze moved to her, then back to Ethan, and his expression darkened further—as if now he really wanted to know who the hell this man was, and why Irina of all people seemed to tolerate him.

"You really are interesting kid," Michael said, "but you should also know that there’s a limit to how far you can push someone like me."

"Oh really?" Ethan asked, agitating Michael gained him nothing but it was surprisingly fun, "I’d like to find that limit out."

Before Michael could say anything else, Irina interrupted, "that’s enough."

Both men listen and leaned back, but Ethan’s smug smile still annoyed Michael and he definitely was going to find out who this kid was later.

The city was soon visible on the horizon, as the towering structures glowed from the night lights turned on.

The helicopter dipped lower and their land pad soon came into view. It was atop a building that dwarfed all the others around it and from the looks of it, a hotel.

From his seat, Ethan could see the name Reeves Grand illuminated in silver letters along the side of the towering glass monolith.

Athena didn’t need to say it, but she did anyway. {Owned by him, it’s one of the biggest five star hotels here.}

Michael’s expression didn’t shift as the skids touched down on the rooftop helipad, but the subtle lift of his chin said it all—this was his domain, and they were about to walk straight into it.

The door slid open, letting in the warm coastal air mixed with the faint scent of salt from the ocean. Two suited men in dark ties stepped forward, their eyes scanning Ethan for anything suspicious.

Michael unbuckled smoothly and stepped out first. Irina followed without hesitation, moving like she’d been here a hundred times before.

Ethan brought up the rear, taking in the view of the glittering city, the ocean’s black expanse just visible beyond.

It seemed they were close to the docks where he infiltrated Irina’s yacht, which meant the attackers had set sail to cut off any escape route.

Unfortunately for them, they were the ones who ended up being trapped in a blown up yacht.

The rooftop entrance was made of glass, and guarded by a concierge in an immaculate suit who bowed his head slightly at Michael’s approach.

"Penthouse," Michael said, and that one word was all it took. A keycard was produced instantly, unlocking the elevator reserved for VIP access.

The elevator ride was quiet for the most part, everyone else choosing to say nothing as it went a floor higher, which was where the penthouse was, just above the helipad spot.

The elevator let out a ding allowing the three to walk out and towards the glass penthouse with an infinity pool overlooking the city.

The penthouse doors slid open to reveal a space that was less a living area and more a display of power. Floor-to-ceiling glass offered a panoramic view of the city at the perfect angle to show that everything was below Michael.

Egoistic much? Maybe.

Irina shrugged off her jacket the moment they stepped inside, tossing it onto a nearby chaise without breaking stride.

"I’m going to shower," she said to Ethan, not even glancing back at them. "We’ll talk after."

With that, she disappeared into one of the glass doors, leaving Ethan alone with Michael.

As soon as the doors closed, a cold metal was rested at the back of Ethan’s head as Michael spoke, "now kid, tell me who the hell you are and why were you stranded with Irina?"

Ethan let out a sigh, this day had just been full of guns being pointed to his head and he really hated that, especially considering how powerless he is against them.

Ethan didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch. The cool steel at the back of his skull was almost... boring at this point.

"You know," he said slowly, "for a man of your class, you really have a short fuse."

Michael pressed the muzzle harder, enough that Ethan could feel the faint indent of the barrel against his skin. "Answer the question."

Athena’s voice came through the ear piece that he had put back on.

{Statistically, there’s 4% chance he’ll making Irina mad so you’re safe....probably.}

"Comforting," Ethan murmured under his breath.

Michael’s tone dropped lower. "You think you can joke your way out of this? Irina may have brought you here, but that doesn’t mean you’re untouchable."

Ethan let out a faint, humorless chuckle. "And yet... you haven’t pulled the trigger. Which tells me you’re not sure if killing me would piss her off more than keeping me alive."

Michael didn’t reply immediately. The silence was telling.

"Go ahead," Ethan continued, his voice casual. "Pull it. But when she walks out of that shower and finds me dead on your marble floor, I’m betting you’ll find yourself in the same situation as me."

Michael wanted to say something but was interrupted by Ethan, "and even if she doesn’t take any actions, there’s someone far more dangerous that’d make sure you meet a fate worse, so go ahead and take that shot."

Michael hesitated, he couldn’t tell if the kid was bluffing or not but he knew that he couldn’t risk the first part happening.

The barrel stayed pressed against Ethan’s head for another moment before he withdrew it.

Michael stepped around, holstering the pistol but keeping his eyes locked on Ethan. "I don’t know who you are, kid, but if you make one wrong move, a bullet through your brain would be the last thing you’ll have to worry about."

Before Michael could add anything else, the sound of heels clicking against the floor was heard. Irina emerged from the hallway, her snow white hair now neatly combed and she had on a black dress.

The easy-going woman from earlier was gone, her posture radiated authority, and he gaze had gotten dangerous. She really wasn’t kidding when she said she would be switching to underworld queen mode.

"Sit," she ordered, not to Michael, but to Ethan.

Michael moved to sit at a chair just a bit away from her chair without being told, his earlier hostility vanishing into the background like a guard returning to his post.

Ethan leaned back in the plush armchair, meeting her eyes without looking away.

Irina crossed one leg over the other as she relaxed on the chair.

"Now then," she said softly, "tell me why you came looking for me."