Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

Chapter 66 A Nyxilith & A Voidhowl!

Parker had plans for tonight, but all of them faded like smoke in the wind. The weight of his thoughts, the memories he couldn't shake, they all pulled him down into a fog he didn't have the energy to fight.

Tessa, though, wasn't about to leave him in that state. She saw it in the way his shoulders slumped, the way his gaze seemed distant, lost somewhere she couldn't follow.

"Alright," she murmured, more to herself than him, brushing her fingers lightly over his cheek. "Let's get you comfortable."

He didn't protest, just let her guide him. Her movements were gentle, unhurried, like she was trying not to startle him out of whatever fragile peace he had left. She helped him sit up, her hands steady as she slipped off his jacket, then reached for the buttons on his shirt.

"You've got way too many layers," she teased softly, her tone light but warm.

Parker mumbled something unintelligible, too tired to care about anything other than the quiet comfort she offered.

Tessa smiled faintly, slipping his shirt off and folding it neatly before setting it aside. She crouched to undo his shoes, pulling them off one at a time, followed by his socks.

"There," she said, satisfied. "Better already."

He gave her a faint grunt of acknowledgment, his eyes half-closed. Tessa didn't stop there, though. She leaned over him, pulling the blanket up to cover his body. As she tucked it around him, her fingers brushed his hair, smoothing it back in a tender gesture.

"You need this," she whispered, leaning down to kiss his temple.

Parker's lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile before he drifted further into slumber, his breaths deepening.

Tessa stood for a moment, watching him. He looked so different like this—calm, almost boyish, like the world had finally given him a break.

It tugged at her heart.

Quietly, she undressed, leaving only her bra and panties before slipping under the blanket with him. Her arms wrapped around his torso, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. His warmth seeped into her, and she let herself relax, her body molding perfectly against his.

"Goodnight, Parker," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He stirred slightly in his sleep, leaning into her touch as if even unconsciously, he couldn't let her go. With that, Tessa closed her eyes, her breathing falling in rhythm with his as sleep claimed her too.

****

Helena Blackwood sat on the balcony of the mansion, her elbows resting on the cold railing as she stared out into the quiet night, her eyes lost in the quiet, sprawling darkness. The night hugged her like an old, untrustworthy friend, The wind whispered around her, carrying secrets and promises, its chill brushing her skin like a reminder of things long buried.

Her gaze wasn't casual, though. She wasn't just admiring the soft glow of Beverly Hills. It felt like she was searching for something—or maybe someone—in the distance.

With a long sigh, she leaned back in her chair, dragging her fingers lightly across the armrest. The absence that had been clinging to her soul for the past few days pressed harder against her chest. The emptiness had a name. Parker. Her nephew.

"What are you thinking about?"

Her train of thought screeched to a halt at the sound of a voice behind her. Robert Blackwood stepped onto the balcony, his statement poking at her like a finger to the ribs but his tone laced with the usual irritation he carried around like a badge.

Helena didn't even turn around. She just let out a sharp snort, her indifference loud and clear.

Robert's brows pulled into a frown, but he didn't back down. "Don't tell me you're still stuck on that kid," he said, his words sour and biting, "That good-for-nothing nephew of yours? That worthless little punk? God, Helena, it's laughable. He's a failed seed—a disgrace. You've gotta get that through your head, Helena Nyxilith."

The name hit the air with an edge, but it wasn't enough to shake her. She didn't even flinch. Robert hated that.

Helena's jaw tightened, but she didn't react right away. Robert crossed his arms, his frustration barely veiled as he stared at her.

The venom in his words barely made her flinch, but it sent a chill through the air between them.

'Why,' he wondered bitterly, did Parker deserve the sanctuary of Helena's thoughts when he, Robert, barely earned her glance?

"Why does that kid get to live rent-free in your head when he doesn't deserve a second of your time? He's nothing, Helena. Nothing. He's not worth it. A failed Nyxilith seed!"

She didn't answer. Not yet. But the weight in the silence was enough to make him keep going.

"Look at Annabelle," Robert pressed, his voice rising. "She's out here thriving, crushing it. And you're still stuck on Parker? He's not even in the same fucking league, he's not like other Nyxiliths. How blind are you—"

"Watch it, Voidhowl."

Her tone froze him for a second, but his ego wouldn't let him back down. "I'm just saying, Nyxilith. Don't get too hopeful. You're blind if you can't see Annabelle same age as him is ten times the person Parker will ever be. Hell, the kid's probably forgotten you even exist."

That was it. Helena stood up slowly, her presence towering even though she didn't raise her voice. She took one deliberate step forward, and Robert, for all his bravado, instinctively stepped back.

"Let me make something crystal clear, Voidhowl," she said, her words cutting like knives. "Listen and listen carefully..."

Helena Nyxilith said, her voice low and cold. "Don't you ever—ever—compare a Nyxilith to a Voidhowl. Not in this life, and not in the next."

"This is your last warning."

Robert gulped, his confidence evaporating under her icy glare.

"And another thing," she added, brushing past him with a force that almost made him stumble. "Know your place. Don't overstep, or I'll hate to remind you exactly where you stand."

Without another word, she brushed past him, her movements like the edge of a storm—controlled, but dangerous. Robert stood there, stunned, the cold air doing nothing to loosen the knot in his throat.

She walked away into the house, her footsteps echoing like a storm fading into the distance. Robert stood there, stunned and shaken, muttering to himself under his breath.

As she disappeared into the house, her footsteps echoing like distant thunder, he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"All Nyxiliths are fucking crazy."