(BL) A Regretful Revenge

Three months passed like a dream.

Micheal's rise through the company was steady, careful, and, on paper, well-earned. His ideas were sharp, his execution flawless, and his ability to lead under pressure was undeniable. No one whispered about favoritism. No one suspected a deeper connection between him and the CEO.

And Ken made sure to keep it that way.

Their rendezvous remained secret, always behind closed doors, always in the dead of night. Three… sometimes four times a week. It was becoming a rhythm, a routine.

It was becoming a habit.

Their bodies had long stopped hesitating. There was only hunger now, and need. But still, no talk of feelings. No talk of the future. Just silent touches, knowing glances, and breathless moments before they slipped back into the daylight as if nothing had happened.

Then came the unexpected.

During a morning staff meeting, Micheal was surprised when his name was called out by the head of HR.

"In recognition of his outstanding performance and contributions to stabilizing two of our key divisions, the Himora Corporation is proud to present Mr. Micheal Aouken with a residence unit, a luxury apartment downtown, fully paid for by the company."

Applause broke across the room. Even Raul smiled and gave him a firm pat on the back.

It wasn't Ken who had arranged this. That was important. It was a formal recognition, voted unanimously by the board. And in a strange way, that made it feel… real.

Earned.

Exactly how Micheal had wanted it.

When Ken shook his hand after the meeting, he leaned in just enough to whisper with a grin, "Guess I won't have to sneak you into my place anymore."

Micheal only chuckled, his mask still perfectly in place.

That weekend, Micheal spent his time unpacking and settling into the new apartment. It was high up, floor 28, with an open view of the city skyline. The interior was modern, sleek, and far too quiet for someone who had grown used to late-night visits and tangled sheets.

As the sun dipped low into the horizon, painting the buildings gold, Micheal stepped out to the street below, craving fresh air and perhaps a cup of coffee.

He didn't expect to see her.

Amanda.

It had been nearly two years. She looked different, more mature, her long hair tied back, her style simpler than before. But her eyes.. still bright, still curious, locked onto him immediately.

"Micheal?"

He froze. "Amanda… wow."

She smiled, stepping closer. "You live here?"

"Just moved in," he said carefully.

There was a pause, one that carried the weight of history between them.

"You look… good," she said finally.

"So do you."

She laughed softly. "What are the odds?"

They chatted casually for a moment, about work, about how she'd transferred to a new firm near the same area. But beneath her words, Micheal sensed the unspoken question: Are you seeing anyone? Are you the same man I once knew?

He offered nothing personal. Just polite smiles and safe answers.

But as they said goodbye and she walked away, something unsettling stirred in him.

Not regret.

Not longing.

Just… a sharp reminder.

Of who he used to be.

Of who he was pretending to be now.

And of the lines he had long since blurred between truth and manipulation.

Later that night, Ken texted him, asking if he'd come over.

Micheal stared at the message.

He typed: "Not tonight. Need rest."

But the truth was, for the first time in months, he wasn't sure which version of himself he was trying to preserve, the man Amanda used to love, or the man who was now walking deeper into a lie.

Because Micheal wasn't addicted to Ken.

He was addicted to the plan.

The power.

The climb.

And most of all, he was addicted to the thought of winning.

Of taking everything back.

Of seeing Ken lose everything he once stole.

Love had no place in this game.

Only vengeance.

And he was getting closer, one kiss, one promotion, one perfect lie at a time.