Getting spoiled in a woman dominating world

The man barely had time to shift his gaze to Brandon before-

BAM!

Brandon's foot connected with his chest in a clean, brutal kick that sent the wine glass flying out of the man's hand.

The impact slammed him backward into the couch so hard that the woman on his lap yelped and fell to the side, scrambling off in shock.

"Argh..." The man let out a sharp grunt, completely caught off guard as the air was knocked out of his lungs.

The man coughed and gripped his chest as he tried to regain composure, but Brandon didn't give him the chance.

In two steps, Brandon was right in front of him and his hand gripped the man's collar, pulling him forward.

He raised his hand and gave another punch to his face.

A sickening CRACK echoed through the quiet VIP lounge.

The man's head snapped back violently, and for a split second, his body went slack in Brandon's grip.

Blood gushed from his nose, splattering down onto his white shirt and the plush carpet below.

"Arghhh!" the man groaned from the sudden rush of pain.

THUD!

The second punch landed harder, snapping the man's head sideways this time.

A tooth flew loose, hitting the ground with a faint clink.

The woman who had been sitting on his lap screamed and scrambled away, clutching her bag.

Still holding the man by the collar, Brandon pulled him toward the far side of the VIP lounge, where the floor-to-ceiling window overlooked the busy streets of Paris.

With one powerful motion, Brandon threw him.

CRASH!

The tempered glass shattered like fragile ice and the man's body flew through the opening and plummeted to the street below.

Outside, the afternoon crowd gasped and screamed as the man hit the ground with a sickening THUD.

"C'est quoi ce bordel?"

"Quel est le bruit..."

"Huh?"

His body rolled twice, leaving a smear of blood on the pavement.

"AAAAHHHHHH!"

From the broken window above, Brandon stepped forward slowly as the glass shards crunched under his shoes.

He looked down at the man rolling on the pavement in pain as blood gushed out of his face.

Pedestrians gathered around the man on the street, shouting, and some pulled out their phones to record.

A few screamed in shock at the sight of a man falling from the theater's upper floor.

The man down below coughed, holding his ribs as he looked up at Brandon.

Meanwhile, Brandon turned to look at Yverine and smiled faintly "Shall we leave?"

With a soft chuckle, she nodded her head "Yeah..."

Both of them stepped out of the room and walked downstairs.

Leaning to Brandon, Yverine whispered "Did you understand what he said to me?"

Hearing this, he smiled wryly and shook his head "No..."

Yverine couldn't help but giggle "Hahahaha..."

Brandon glanced sideways at her "What's so funny?"

Yverine placed a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the small fit of laughter "You just beat someone half to death," she said between quiet chuckles, "without even knowing exactly what he said."

Brandon shrugged casually "Meh, intent doesn't need translations."

That made Yverine laugh a little more, though there was a hint of warmth behind her otherwise cool demeanor "You're reckless sometimes."

As they descended the last steps and reached the main lobby, the noise of the crowd grew louder.

People were pressing against the large glass doors of the theater, staring outside at the aftermath.

Through the wide entrance, they could see the man still writhing on the street, surrounded by onlookers and a couple of security staff who had just arrived.

Brandon and Yverine stepped out into the lobby, and instantly a few heads turned toward them.

A security guard nervously stepped forward after seeing them coming out from the VIP lounge "Monsieur… Madame… what happened upstairs?"

His eyes darted nervously between Brandon and Yverine.

Brandon glanced at the security and spoke "I think he was drinking a lot... So he fell out of the window by mistake."

Falling out of reinforced glass by mistake? The guard looked at them for a moment and stepped aside, opening a path for them without a word.

hearing the excuse, Yverine couldn't help but chuckle in her mind.

Outside, the commotion was louder.

Phones were pointed upward toward the shattered window, while others were filming the bloodied man being dragged away by his panicked friends.

---

When they finally reached a quieter stretch of the street, Brandon exhaled softly, stuffing his hands into his pockets "So, what did he actually say?"

Yverine's lips curled into a small smile.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked ahead as she spoke "He asked for a night with me."

Brandon suddenly stopped and turned around "That bastard, I should have thrown him from the roof instead. Let me go and give him some more punches..."

Yverine laughed and hurriedly grabbed his waist "Wait... Wait Brandon, it's enough."

She hugged him tightly and stopped him from moving "Brandon, stop..."

"But, Sister Yve-"

She cupped his cheeks and squished them in her palms "As i said, it's enough, Brandon."

Looking into her calm eyes, he let out a sigh and she tapped his cheek before asking "Has your anger settled?"

He glanced away and replied "No, i still want to punch him."

Yverine's lips curved into a soft, amused smile as she tilted her head slightly, still holding his face between her palms "You really are stubborn, aren't you?"

Her thumbs gently brushed along his cheeks, almost soothingly, as if to tame the fire in his expression.

She leaned in a bit closer "Brandon, he is not worth the trouble... listen to me."

"But he-"

"No," she interrupted gently, pressing her fingers against his lips for a second "You already taught him a lesson. Forget him."

She hugged him and patted his back lightly "Thank you for caring about me..."

Brandon finally let out a sigh and hugged her back.

Yverine's gaze flickered to a nearby building and saw Naevora standing there on the roof, the wind rustling her hair.

---

tap tap

A middle-aged woman was hurriedly walking through the hospital corridor and finally reached the emergency room her son was admitted to.

On the hospital bed, her son is lying like a pitiful, bloodied mess.

His face was swollen from the punches and his arm and ribs are wrapped in thick bandages.

Beside him, another middle-aged man was standing.

He was leaning forward slightly with his hand resting on the bedrail as he whispered softly to the boy.

"Son… don't worry. Whoever did this to you… we'll surely find him. We'll make him pay, I swear it. You'll get justice."

But as soon as he heard the sound of heels approaching, he turned his head to look at his wife "Dear, Our son-"

But his words stopped on his throat as he looked at the dark red palm fingerprint on his wife's face "D-Dear… who slapped you?"

The woman walked to him and raised her hand, slapping him in the cheek.

SLAP!

The man staggered back from the sudden slap and he almost fell down on the floor.

"Wha-"

Before he could speak, the woman raised her leg and slammed it into his chest.

THUD!

He fell backward onto the floor with a grunt and clutched his ribs.

The woman stood over her husband and muttered "You damn fucker. How many times have I told you? How many times did I warn you?"

"Stop doting on that useless brat. Stop indulging his arrogance. Or he'll cause trouble we can't clean up."

She pointed at her son on the bed and spoke "Now look at him. Look at the mess he has made!"

The man on the floor tried to speak, "He's… he's still our son-"

CRACK!

Another slap whipped across his cheek before he could finish, leaving him speechless.

"This… is why I wanted a daughter. Not this… idiotic son who only knows how to flaunt our name and drag us into trouble."

She turned her glare back onto her husband "And now? Now he has offended an SS-rank awakener."

"Do you understand what that means? Do you even comprehend what kind of storm is about to fall on us?"

The man's face went pale.

In this female-dominated world, where Ether was the ultimate power and only women wielded it naturally, an SS-rank awakener was an untouchable deity.

To offend someone of that caliber wasn't just foolish... it was suicide.

She stepped closer to her husband as he sat trembling on the floor.

"I told you,. A daughter would have elevated our family. A son… only drags us down."

Her gaze darted back to the unconscious boy on the bed, and her lip curled slightly.

"If that awakener decides to make an example out of him… I won't protect him. I won't risk our entire house for a failure."

She straightened fully, adjusting her coat "Clean up your mess."