[BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction Chapter 266: Inheritance and Victor

The car was too quiet.

That should have been Elias’s first warning.

Outside the tinted windows, the capital glided past in curated symtry, with glass buildings, green corridors, and projections announcing the gala of the year. Inside, the cabin was climate-controlled and silent except for the occasional murmur of tires over newly laid asphalt.

Ashwin drove. Of course he did.

And of course, he was silent. The man could drive through a war zone without blinking, without changing lanes, and without comnting on anything that wasn’t directly lethal.

Victor sat beside Elias with the relaxed posture that ant he was absolutely not relaxed. He was scrolling through sothing on his wristband, face unreadable, expression set in the slight frown he always wore when logistics weren’t obeying fast enough.

Elias, anwhile, was trying to understand one single thing:

"When," he said slowly, holding his tablet like it had personally insulted him, "did I inherit Clarke Industries?"

Victor didn’t look up. "Legally? Three months ago."

"Three..." Elias cut himself off and inhaled through his nose. "I was still throwing up three tis a day four months ago."

Victor finally looked over. "Yes. And while you were doing that, I was rewriting corporate succession contracts and challenging three board mbers for their seats."

There was a beat.

Elias blinked. "You challenged..."

"Successfully," Victor said, turning back to his screen.

Elias looked at him. Then at the tablet. Then back at him.

The headlines were still rolling in across every major outlet.

Clarke-Nun Alliance Shifts Market Forecasts

Corporate Royalty: The Pregnant Oga Who Reshaped the Clarke Legacy

Victor Nun’s Heir? Or Elias Clarke’s Rise?

Another banner scrolled past in bright gold font:

The Clarke Estate Has Officially Been rged Into the Nun Holdings Structure Pending Final Gala Confirmation.

Elias narrowed his eyes. "What does ’pending final gala confirmation’ even an?"

Victor didn’t blink. "It ans we planned well."

Elias stared at him. "It sounds like a hostage negotiation."

Victor humd. "It was, a little. Corporate diplomacy. Technically, it’s a clause for optics. Investors like ceremonial closure. And the gala is closure."

"That’s not closure," Elias muttered. "That’s walking into a at grinder in formalwear."

Victor finally t his gaze, the man had the gall to smile. "You’ll be fine. You’re wearing gray."

Elias’s mouth parted, aghast. "Is that supposed to be comforting?"

Victor tilted his head. "It’s Laziel’s color for strategic dominance. Calm, very controlled, and slightly divine."

Elias gave him a flat look. "I’m pregnant. I am not divine, I am bloated and annoyed and apparently now an executive."

Victor’s lips twitched. "You’ve always been executive material. I just made it official."

Elias groaned and let his head drop back against the seat. The soft leather was no comfort. "I should have stayed asleep longer. You do too much damage when I’m unconscious."

Ashwin’s voice drifted calmly from the front. "The Clarke legal transfer was finalized during your third sedation cycle. I delivered the brief myself."

"You have no right to intervene in this. I was disowned by Jonathan Clarke; technically, I have no right to inherit anything."

"Hmm... Did you forget how he also killed the rest of the family? Only you are alive and have his blood."

Elias made a low, incredulous sound. "That’s a hell of a succession plan."

Ashwin didn’t flinch. "Technically, it simplified the paperwork."

Victor didn’t look up. "It also removed any need for arbitration. You’re the only Clarke left with a na, a signature, and a pulse. That makes you the estate."

Elias gave a slow, pained blink. "I’m not even registered under their dical insurance anymore."

Victor’s smile returned, razor-edged. "You are now. Retroactively. I had Ashwin dig through the old corporate protections. Your childhood coverage was never fully rescinded."

Ashwin nodded once, as if confirming a nu order.

Elias closed his eyes and muttered, "This is corruption."

"No," Victor corrected, eyes still on his wristband. "This is inheritance. Corruption is what your father did with it."

"And you just... took it back?"

Victor’s voice didn’t shift. "I restructured it. Legally. Efficiently. You’ve always belonged to the Clarke estate. They just didn’t deserve you."

Elias opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"That’s not..." he paused. "I didn’t want it."

Victor finally turned toward him, gaze level. "You didn’t have to want it. You survived it. That was enough."

That silenced him.

For a few monts, Elias sat very still. The press headlines continued to scroll across the open tablet on his lap, a parade of rebranded legacy and sudden power. Pregnant Oga, Executive Partner, Legacy Resurrected.

A familiar ache curled low in his abdon. Not physical. Not hormonal. Just... heavy.

"...It doesn’t feel like mine."

Victor didn’t argue.

Instead, he said softly, "Then make it."

Elias turned his head toward him, startled by the quiet conviction.

Victor’s expression had smoothed out again into that calm and unapologetic one that made Elias’s blood pressure rise. Steady in the way only Victor Nun could be when he’d burned a path just to clear space for soone else.

And Elias realized, with mild horror, that Victor had probably been planning this the entire ti.

The mont Elias walked into the gala as Clarke’s heir and Nun’s partner.

Elias exhaled slowly. "You know, I should be furious."

Victor leaned back in his seat with the satisfaction of soone who already knew the ending. "You will be. Later. After the caras. Maybe during dessert."

Ashwin’s voice interrupted again. "Two minutes out. Press lines are in the final position. Victor, your father has arrived."

Victor’s jaw tensed briefly. "Of course he has."

Elias caught it. "Should I be worried?"

Victor’s tone flattened. "Only if he smiles. That ans he’s planning sothing."

Elias sighed and set the tablet aside. "Great. Murder by family reunion. Classic gala arc."

The car slowed.

Flashlights flared outside the tinted glass.

Ashwin adjusted the mirrors. "Ready?"

Elias didn’t move for a second. Then, finally, he straightened his posture and reached for Victor’s hand.

"If I throw up," he said, tone almost conversational, "I’m aiming for the nearest investor."

Victor squeezed his fingers gently. "Make sure it’s one of mine."

The door opened.