Evolution of the Ruined Heir-Chapter 146: Playbook

The morning rays filtered through the open window, landing gently on the figures lying on the bed.

On both sides of a broad looking man were two women, beautiful, flawless skinned, and utterly naked beneath the thin blanket that barely covered them.

Both of them were wrapped closely around the man sleeping in the middle. It was a dream many men would kill for: to be in the company of two stunning women. But the man currently looked far from peaceful.

His forehead was dotted with sweat, and the bed beneath him was soaked. A pained expression twisted his features as his head moved side to side, like he was fighting a war within.

His face held nothing but disarray.

A knock came at the door, followed by a voice.

"Captain."

The man’s eyes shot open, his gaze locking onto the cracked ceiling of the cheap motel he’d rented the night before.

’Shit. Again.’

He breathed heavily, chest rising and falling. His heart raced, and the cold air from the harmattan brushed against his damp back, turning his sweat ice cold.

’Damn, why is it so cold.’

His body was hot from what he’d just experienced, but the chilly wind had turned that heat against him. He placed a hand on his head and groaned.

’How annoying.’

The nightmares always came with a biting headache, and sure enough, there it was.

"...Captain, we’re going to be late."

He shot a glare toward the door and sighed heavily. Carefully, he shifted his body, trying his absolute best not to wake the women beside him.

Despite the noise, they slept on, looking peaceful, angelic, even. But all that would change the moment they woke up and realized he had no money to give them for their services.

He looked at them and grinned.

’Works every time.’

Last night, he’d made sure it was... unforgettable. One of the moves in his playbook:

Pretend to be loaded by ordering drinks, on the tab of a friend who owned a bar.

Target women he normally couldn’t afford.

Bring them to a rundown motel with some sob story about supporting the mother of a dead friend.

Then, exhaust them so thoroughly that they’d be out till noon.

It worked. Every. Single. Time.

Another knock came.

"Captain..."

The man scowled. His far too eager lieutenant was about to ruin everything.

"I’ll be out in a minute," he whispered, but considering their keen senses, he knew she’d heard him. No more knocks came.

He made his way to the small mirror above the lone table in the room, grabbed his clothes, and dressed quickly.

A black innerwear, a pure red jacket bearing the crest of a Bloodknight, black trousers, and finally, a pair of socks with strange patterns, which he caressed like they were precious gems, before slipping on his boots.

Fully dressed, he limped as silently as he could toward the door, but...

Bam!

The captain winced.

He’d just stubbed his foot against the bed. Not that it hurt, he was a Bloom, after all, but his ever growing curse of being accident prone had struck again.

The real problem was... the impact had shifted the entire bed, shaking the women awake.

"W-what..."

Their eyes fluttered open, blinking rapidly as they processed the scene before them: the fully dressed captain, crouched and clearly trying to sneak out.

Their eyes widened in unison.

Before they could speak, he waved with a charming smile.

"Last night was fun. Let’s do it again sometime. But I’ve gotta run. Busy day."

"Hey... wait!"

One of them started to rise, but before she could finish, the captain turned to bolt, only to trip on a nail jutting from the floor, sending him sprawling forward into the door.

’Shit.’

He scrambled to his feet, but as he did, his head slammed into the doorknob, snapping it clean off.

His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

He tried the door. It didn’t budge.

"Lieutenant! Are you there? Open this door!" he hissed, but no response came.

Behind him, one of the women screamed, "You bastard! You think you can just leave after last night!? I’ll grind your dick into dust!"

He flinched.

They were both up now, barely dressed but clearly pissed, storming toward him with murder in their eyes.

Panicked, the captain faced the door again.

"It’s an order!" he shouted.

Click.

The door creaked open and he slipped out, slamming it shut behind him. He turned, only to find his beautiful lieutenant standing there, arms crossed, her gaze full of judgment.

Bam! Bam!

The angry banging from the room echoed behind them.

The captain’s eyes widened.

"Judge me later, Laila! We have to leave!"

Her scowl didn’t budge as she followed him down the stairs, but it slowly shifted into a smile when, true to form, the captain tripped and tumbled down the stairs like a rag doll.

She stifled a laugh.

His ’accidents’ were always something to see.

A loud crash rang out from upstairs, the door had been broken down.

The captain threw her a panicked look.

"We’re leaving now!"

They nodded briskly to the receptionist, then broke into a sprint. With their speed, the motel was soon left in the dust, the furious voices of the women fading behind them.

"Ha! That was so close! Haha!" the captain laughed, hands on his waist as they finally slowed down.

Their fast movements had gotten them far away from their pursuers, and now, they were calmly blending in with the morning crowd.

"..."

"Ah, I feel so refreshed," the captain said with a stretch. "Last night was a good one."

Still, no answer came, only the hum of city life, the sounds of footsteps, chatter, and wheels grinding against stone. The streets of Vitaemore were alive.

People filled the paved roads, walking past one another, while large Gravethorns dragged carriages down the center.

It looked like a scene pulled straight out of a medieval age, save for the towering buildings around them, sleek and metallic, scraping at the skies.

It was early in the morning, but Vitaemore was already wide awake.

The captain turned slightly, casting a glance at his lieutenant. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

"Anger makes you look less beautiful, Laila. You should lose it."

Laila exhaled heavily, but said nothing.

"Oh, come on," he said. "I was just having fun. Why are you even mad? That I didn’t choose you? I told you—"

"You promised me you’d stop."