(BL) A Regretful Revenge

The city lights outside Micheal's apartment window glimmered like dying stars, but his mind was nowhere near sleep.

He sat on the edge of his bed, shirtless, cigarette burning slowly between his fingers, eyes blank, replaying the scene from the night before over and over again in his head.

Ken Himora. Vulnerable. Bent beneath another man.

He scoffed, flicking ash into the tray on the windowsill. His stomach turned at the thought, not because Ken was with another man, but because the man who ruined his father, the untouchable titan of Tokyo's business world, willingly submitted behind closed doors.

"Disgusting."

But it wasn't just disgust.

It was opportunity.

Micheal leaned forward, elbows on his knees, a dark smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

"So... the mighty Ken has a weakness. Younger men. Strong, pretty faces. Control, handed away like a gift."

And Micheal had always been told he was attractive. Sharp jawline, warm eyes that could turn cold when needed. A body he kept in shape, not for vanity, but survival.

What if... he could become exactly Ken's type?

What if he could do more than work his way through the company?

What if he could work his way into Ken's bed, into his heart, and then crush him from the inside out?

Not with violence. Not with legal traps or corporate battles.

"I'll make him fall in love with me," Micheal whispered to himself. "I'll let him taste what it's like to trust someone completely. And then…"

He took another drag of his cigarette, eyes narrowing.

"I'll take everything. The company. His name. His pride. I'll leave him with nothing. Not even his dignity."

The idea felt filthy. Manipulative. Cruel.

And yet, so perfect.

It was revenge elevated to something more personal, more intimate. It wouldn't just make Ken suffer.

It would make him beg.

---

Three days later.

Micheal didn't expect to run into him. Not there. Not like that.

He was in the executive lounge on the 29th floor, collecting some printed documents for Raul. The room was nearly empty, just a few assistants whispering over coffee.

Then, he entered.

Ken Himora.

In a sleek charcoal suit. Hair styled neatly. Handsome as ever, but cold. Distant. Perfectly unreadable.

Micheal's heart jumped. He stood straighter. Cleared his throat. Turned, subtly, just enough to be seen.

He waited for a glance. A flicker of recognition. An ounce of curiosity.

Nothing.

Ken walked past him like he was invisible. Not even a nod.

No flicker. No glance. No interest.

Micheal watched him disappear into the boardroom, teeth clenched behind a tight smile.

So that was the game.

You want pretty boys, but you don't even see me?

Fine, he thought. I'll make sure the next time you look at me... you won't be able to look away.