Chapter 34: God—Have Mercy On Me

I slam my hand on the table. The sound echoes, sharp and cutting.

“Enough!” I shout, my voice breaking through the tension, cold, sharp, dangerous—angrier than I thought I could be.

Zyke stares at me in silence.

His pheromones crawl across my skin, pressing, testing, waiting for me to bend.

I stay still.

Then he leans back in his chair, slow and deliberate, as if he owns the room—and says calmly,

“Finally. Your acting ends. You’ve come out in your real face… Zyren Kael.”

Something inside me snaps.

Anger burns inside me. It doesn’t stay contained—it spreads, screaming beneath my skin.

I look down.

Did I really shout like that?

Like him?

Like real Zyren Kael…?

I didn’t mean to.

But this man—this pathetic alpha—has been pressing every nerve, dragging it out of me on purpose.

I lift my head. My gaze locks onto him.

“Brother,” I say, voice low and controlled, “do you enjoy this version of me that much?”

He blinks, expression smooth, as if he hasn’t been flooding the room with his pheromones, as if the air hasn’t been crushing my lungs just seconds ago.

As if the pressure in my chest isn’t real.

“Hm,” Zyke hums. “Cruelty suits you. This is who you are. Innocence never did.”

A cruel smile curves his lips.

My body goes rigid.

His pheromones tighten around me—dangerous, heavy—crushing me like paper in a fist. My throat dries. My muscles scream. Every instinct tells me to submit.

My hands clench beneath the table. For a moment, my vision blurs at the edges.

But I don’t.

I act strong.

I force myself to stay seated. Upright. Still.

Then my eyes shift—to the corner of the room.

The CCTV camera.

A slow, deliberate smile curves my lips.

“Brother,” I say softly, almost amused, “what a shame it would be if the world found out how a big brother hurts his own little brother with pheromones.”

Pain spikes sharply—

Warmth drips down.

A warm drop hits my shirt.

Blood.

My nose starts bleeding.

Zyke follows my gaze. His eyes flick to the camera.

For the first time, his expression cracks—just slightly.

The pressure eases.

The air loosens.

Like oxygen rushing back into my lungs.

I inhale sharply, greedily, like I’ve been underwater too long. I lean back, letting my shoulders relax.

Neon—breathe.

I close my eyes for a second, then open them slowly.

My voice is steady.

“You don’t need to interfere in my business,” I say calmly. “This is my empire.”

I straighten, my voice steady despite the ache in my bones.

I take a tissue from the table and dab at my nose, wiping away the blood with controlled hands.

“Don’t come here and terrorize my employees. Don’t make them obey you. I won’t tolerate it.”

Zyke’s stare burns. Pure fury.

Like he wants to kill me.

I stand.

My legs tremble, but I lock my posture, straighten my spine, and walk toward the door. Each step sends a dull ache through my body. My heart pounds too loud in my ears.

I stop without turning back.

“I’m waiting for the day,” I say quietly, “when you’re ready to make things right with me. I don’t want war—especially not with my own big brother.”

Silence.

No reply.

I open the door and walk out.

My body aches.

My heart races.

My throat burns.

God—have mercy on me.

My footsteps echo against the marble floor.

Each sound follows me, sharp and hollow, but my resolve stays firm.

No matter what happens—I won’t give him the company.

I push open my office door and step inside.

The first thing I see is Deniz.

He’s sitting on the couch, posture straight, tablet resting forgotten beside him. The moment his gaze lifts and finds me, he stands up immediately—too fast, too alert.

Guilt pricks my chest.

I was harsh with him earlier. Ordered him to wait. Dismissed him like he was nothing more than a shadow. I shouldn’t have done that.

I keep walking, but my body betrays me.

My knees finally give in.

I reach the couch and drop onto it with a soft thud, the strength draining out of me all at once. I lean back, staring at nothing.

Deniz moves without a word.

A glass of water appears in front of me, his hand steady despite the tension in his eyes. I take it and drink—just enough to wet my dry, burning throat.

I set the glass down slowly and look at him.

He’s looking at the floor.

My voice comes out quieter than I expect. Almost fragile.

“Deniz… I’m sorry.”

His head lifts instantly. Confused. Surprised.

“I was rude earlier,” I continue. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

He adjusts his glasses out of habit.

“Sir—”

Then he stops.

I blink. “Why did you stop?”

His face pales slightly, worry breaking through his professional calm.

“Sir… your nose.”

I touch it instinctively.

Warm.

Blood again.

I let out a slow breath, take a tissue, and dab at it, pretending it doesn’t matter. Pretending this room isn’t spinning just a little.

Deniz is already reaching for his phone.

“Sir, I should call the company’s emergency doctor—”

“Deniz.”

I stop him gently.

“No need. I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look convinced. His eyes stay on me, sharp with concern.

” But Sir—”

I meet his gaze—and a thought slips through before I can stop it.

My future wife is really good…

The realization softens something tight in my chest.

I smile softly.

Deniz looks at me, clearly confused.

“Sir… are you listening to me?”

His voice reaches me—but it feels distant, like it’s coming from underwater. Each word stretches, thins, begins to lose shape.

I lean back against the couch, my gaze fixed on the ceiling. The chandelier blurs, its light breaking into soft, shaking fragments.

What is happening to me?

The room starts to spin—slow at first, then faster. My body feels heavy, unbearably heavy, like it’s sinking into the cushions. I want to answer him. I want to tell him I’m fine.

But the words won’t come.

The sounds around me fade—footsteps, breathing, my own heartbeat—until everything is swallowed by a deep, closing quiet.

Blackness spills in from the edges of my vision.

And then—

Silence.

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