Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

Chapter 64 Cost Of Warmth

For the rest of the evening, laughter spilled between them, soft and unrestrained, as the violinist played a tender tune in the background. Parker leaned back in his chair, his gaze occasionally drifting to Tessa's face. She was beaming, her happiness so genuine that it tugged at something deep inside him.

If he hadn't realized it before, he sure as hell did now—Tessa had given him something he hadn't felt in years: a sense of belonging.

He made a conscious effort not to zone out, though. This wasn't the time to get lost in his head, not tonight. He was here, with her, and he wanted to make every second count. Whatever thoughts tried to creep in, he shoved them aside, focusing instead on her radiant smile.

It was hard to ignore how much this all meant to her. The fancy restaurant, the private setup, the attention to detail—it wasn't like she couldn't have this every single day if she wanted. She was a billionaire's daughter, after all.

But the difference? It wasn't about the money or the place. It was him.

His presence, his effort, the thought he'd put into this—it all revolved around that. And seeing her this happy, knowing he'd made it happen, sent a warmth through his chest that he hadn't felt in a long time.

After dinner, they moved on to ice cream and cake, indulging like kids on a sugar rush. Then came the slow dance, which Parker swore was way more challenging than any fight he'd ever been in.

"I think I'm ready to tap out," Parker muttered, trying to keep up with Tessa's graceful movements as couples swirled around them.

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"Don't even think about it!" she laughed, pulling him closer and guiding him with practiced ease.

The violins hummed softly, their slow rhythm weaving through the air as Parker tried to navigate the chaos of the dance floor. Tessa was laughing, her joy practically lighting up the room. Couples swayed all around them, but Parker felt like every eye was on his clumsy steps.

"To think dancing's harder than telekinesis," he muttered under his breath, though Tessa caught it and burst out laughing.

"You think?" she teased, her hand firm on his shoulder, her other clasping his, she'd never know what he was meaning, "It's simple. Just follow your instincts."

"Yeah, last time I followed my instincts, I stepped on you," Parker shot back, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk.

Tessa threw her head back, her laugh echoing through the hall. "Touché. But you're getting the hang of it, I promise."

"Sure I am," he said, though her tone made it sound more like sarcasm than encouragement.

She pulled him closer, her cheek brushing against his chest as she guided his movements. He let her lead, trying not to overthink it, but damn, it was harder than he'd expected. The way she swayed, like the music was stitched into her bones, was mesmerizing.

"You're way too good at this," he admitted, his voice low.

"Well," she started, leaning into him with a playful grin, "all millionaire and billionaire kids take dance classes, Parker. It's kind of a rite of passage. And trust me, some still suck at it. You've got an excuse." She laughed, her breath warm against his neck.

"Wow, thanks for the confidence boost. Well, lucky me," he replied dryly. "So I get to be the poster boy for 'rich kids who can't dance.'"

"Hey, you're learning," she said, though it sounded more sarcastic than supportive.

They both laughed, the sound breaking the tension. They danced a little longer, Tessa swaying as if she'd practiced to this exact song before they even arrived. Parker tried to keep up, his focus split between the music and her effortless grace.

For a moment, Parker's thoughts wandered to her words. He knew what she meant. Kids like Julian, Annabelle, and Vivian—the Blackwoods—had been drilled with all kinds of elite training since they were practically toddlers. Piano lessons, etiquette classes, fencing, the works.

But he wasn't like them.

His parents had been filthy rich, richer than the Blackwoods, even. Yet he hadn't grown up like a typical "rich kid." His childhood had been normal—loving, chaotic, free. At least, until his parents passed away. After that, the Blackwoods had taken him in, but they'd never treated him as one of their own, not enough to throw him into dance classes or some other privilege he didn't need.

Just as he felt himself drifting into his memories, the music shifted.

The tempo picked up, jolting him back to the present. Tessa laughed again, spinning gracefully before pulling him along. He stumbled but recovered quickly, her laughter guiding him more than the music.

They danced until Tessa finally slumped against him, exhaustion catching up to her. "Okay, I'm tapping out," she said, her breath warm against his neck.

"Thank fuck," Parker sighed, earning a playful shove from her.

"You're welcome," she shot back, leaning into him as they made their way toward the car.

By the time they reached the car, Tessa was leaning heavily on Parker, her body slack with exhaustion but her face still glowing with happiness. She sighed contentedly as she slid into the passenger seat, kicking off her heels like they were the devil's invention.

"Thank you for tonight," she mumbled, her head resting against the window.

Parker glanced at her with a smirk as he started the car. "You're making this a habit, aren't you? Sleeping on the drive home."

"Mm-mmm," she hummed sleepily, her voice soft and teasing. "Nothing beats the feeling of my master carrying me home and tucking me into bed." Her words were slow, slurred with the pull of sleep, and they melted into soft, rhythmic breathing before she could say anything else.

Parker shook his head, chuckling under his breath. "I've spoiled you way too much for someone I was supposed to punish, and you think I forgot," he muttered, the corner of his mouth tugging into a crooked smile.

The drive back was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and her steady breathing. He glanced at her every so often, slouched against the seat, her lips parted just slightly. There was something about seeing her this peaceful that made his chest feel too tight, like he could barely hold all the feelings she stirred in him.

When they reached her building, he parked the car and got out, walking around to scoop her up in one smooth motion.

"Light as a feather," he murmured, partly because of his enhanced strength and partly because she really did seem lighter, more at ease than ever.

He carried her all the way to the penthouse, the cool night air brushing against them as he held her close.

But this time, instead of taking her to her room, he brought her to his. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe it was something else entirely, but he knew he wanted her there, even if it was just for tonight.

When he gently laid her down on the bed, her eyes fluttered open, half-lidded but sparkling like they always did when she looked at him. Before he could step back, her hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and pulling him down.

"Uh-uh," she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep but firm enough to leave no room for argument.

Parker didn't fight it. Instead, he let himself be pulled, his body sinking into the mattress beside her as she curled into him, her warmth pressing against his side. He sighed, a mix of surrender and something deeper, something he didn't have a name for yet.

And as her breathing evened out again, he rested his chin lightly against her head, letting the silence settle over them.

'Yeah,' he thought, letting his eyes close. She had him, alright tonight. Completely.

*****

Some readers may expect the main character to dive into things immediately, whether that's punishment or certain plot arcs, but that's not how I approach this story. I believe in taking the time to build up to key moments, to develop the tension and dynamics before things unfold. It's not about rushing into every big moment or plot point right away.

I want to create something that feels earned, something that builds naturally over time.

If you're looking for a story where the main character jumps into action without much setup, this might not be the story for you. I'm focused on preparation, planning, and letting things simmer before serving them hot.

The process, the tension, the build-up—they all matter just as much as the payoff.

As for why the MC might want affection from his enemies—sometimes the most interesting revenges and punishmenta are the ones that start off as adversarial, where affection, revenge , pain, bitter and power dynamics clash in unexpected ways.

It's all part of the story, and not everything needs to happen in a rush.

Thank you!