[BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction Chapter 270: Take it back

The helicopter touched down with the grace of money and arrogance. Ashwin got out first and was now waiting with an umbrella, the household staff already dismissed for the night.

Victor stood and, with the grace of a predator, reached for his hormonal mate.

Elias blinked at him, still curled in the seat. "I can walk."

"You shouldn’t have to," Victor said simply, and lifted him before Elias could object again.

Elias sighed against his shoulder, too tired to fight the fact that Victor was warm and slled like expensive cologne and the usual traces of smoke, his scent that ca from things older than electricity.

"I have shoes on," Elias muttered.

"I’ve carried worse," Victor said. "Including a bleeding high priest, a lion, and once, Uno."

"Uno’s taller than ."

"He complained more."

The front doors opened at their approach. Inside, the marble glead in low light, the hallway still perfud from earlier florals and whatever candle Connor had gifted them last week. Victor didn’t pause. He carried Elias straight through the entryway, up the stairs, and down the long corridor toward their suite.

"Victor... this is ridiculous. I’m still very much capable of walking," Elias said while rembering the news that disturbed him earlier. "This is your way of making forget about you taking over Clarke Industries for ?... Without my knowledge?"

Victor only humd. "Well, your family is dead and there is only one Clarke alive... Seed fair for you to take it over."

Elias stared at him, jaw tightening. "You signed the papers."

"I ensured your survival," Victor corrected, tone infuriatingly serene. "The signature was just paperwork."

"You forged my na."

"Technically, I reconstructed your handwriting from your academic notes. The ’e’ was a little sharp, but the flourish on the ’s’... very elegant."

Elias pinched the bridge of his nose. "You’re unbelievable."

"I’m efficient," Victor said. "You didn’t want it while your sister and father were alive. Now? It’s yours. And I would rather see Clarke rebuilt in your hands than sold off to whatever family of vultures is already asuring the furniture."

They entered the suite without slowing.

The room was warm, lights dimd, shadows curling at the corners like silk. Everything was as they left it, robes folded, windows open to the distant scent of snow, and one of Elias’s books left spine-up on the nightstand beside a half-drunk cup of tea.

"Victor... Adler and Jonathan had destroyed the manor and probably all the docunts."

"Technically Uno did," Victor said, setting Elias down on the bed with unsettling gentleness, "but I’ve restored it."

Elias blinked at him. "I’m sorry... Uno destroyed it?"

"By accident, but in his defense, Adler already destroyed half of it," Victor said mildly, as if accidentally vaporizing a legacy estate was sothing that happened all the ti.

Elias exhaled; he knew what happened and didn’t want to rember how close he actually was to having the sa destiny as his older sister in Poseidon’s territory.

"I’m already the lead researcher at Nun, courtesy of you and Ego," Elias muttered, voice taut with restrained exasperation. "Do I really need to take over Clarke too? You’re the god here; you take it while I’m pregnant."

Victor put him down on the bed with ease and kneeled in front of him, fingers moving with practiced care as he began unlacing Elias’s shoes.

"I can help," he said, voice low. "But you take the last decision. We can search for soone else to take over if you don’t like it."

Elias stared at him, his hazel eyes glinting behind his glasses.

Not just because Victor, the God of Destruction, the Creator’s executioner, and possibly the most dramatic being in the history of divine interference, was on his knees gently removing one shoe at a ti, like Elias was made of sothing breakable.

But because it was real and his mate didn’t joke when he gave Elias choices. They were as real as his power.

Victor slipped the second shoe off and set it neatly beside the bed, then looked up at him, hands still on Elias’s ankles, gripping them lightly to ease the swollen feet.

"You don’t owe them anything," Victor said quietly. "If Clarke ans nothing to you, we let it go."

Elias’s throat felt tight.

The exhaustion in his bones had settled into sothing heavier, deeper than fatigue, closer to ache. He reached up and ran a hand through his dark brown hair.

"I don’t even know what’s left of it," he muttered.

Victor nodded. "I already dealt with that, but we can analyze it together."

"And if there’s sothing worth saving?"

Victor tilted his head. "We protect it. Or we dismantle it properly. Depends on your mood."

Silence curled around them again, thick and padded with everything Elias hadn’t said since the notification had lit up his phone.

He finally looked down at Victor again, at the red eyes, the calm hands, and the impossible patience.

Elias thought about taking over, not really about the money or power but about the spite he would create for his perished family, erased or dead, that he, the disowned one, would take over what they thought was precious to them.

"You know," Elias said slowly, voice low and even, "I have everything they ever wanted."

His fingers brushed over his stomach once, almost thoughtlessly.

"A god as my fiancé," he continued, eyes distant, "power under Nun’s na, and now the Clarke company."

He paused, letting the words settle.

Elias blinked once, the edges of his expression tightening into sothing close to resolve. He was now free; nothing could bind him to do anything he didn’t want if he ignored Victor’s attempts to clean Elias’ eating style.

"Fitting, really."

Victor looked at Elias like he had just ascended. A wide smile spreading across his handso face.

"You’re serious," Victor said, voice low with sothing reverent.

Elias looked up, lashes heavy. "Wouldn’t it be worse for them? If I took it? If the disowned one, the ’broken,’ the ’sacrifice,’ the one they pushed out first, , ended up running the thing they lied for?"

Victor’s red eyes flared, just slightly, red ether dancing around him.

"Tell you’ll do it out of spite," he whispered. "Say it."

Elias tilted his head. He looked too tired to smile, but there was a certain venom to the way his mouth moved.

"I’ll do it out of spite."

Victor exhaled, reverent. His grin blood like sothing catastrophic.

"I knew I chose right."

He moved forward, almost too fast, and dropped to one knee in front of Elias again.

"To take sothing they thought would die with them," Victor murmured, eyes locked on Elias like the rest of the room had gone grey, "and claim it in your na, that is my kind of godhood."

"I’m pregnant and angry," Elias said flatly. "That’s not the sa thing."

Victor’s hands ca up, bracing on either side of Elias’s legs.

"It is to ," he said. "You have no idea what that combination does to tilines."

Elias snorted despite himself, voice dry. "You love that I’m doing this for all the wrong reasons."

"I love that you’ve stopped pretending you need the right ones."

Elias humd, his mind now being more concerned about the promised ran than the magnitude of changes he had in the last year. "You will have to tell Ego that I’m not working for Nuns anymore."

Victor rested his chin on elias’s knees like he was a particularly well-fed cat. "You can do both..." He paused when he saw Elias’s flat look, but that made him smile even brighter. "Clarke is still a part of Nun’s subsidiary."

Victor looked entirely too pleased with himself.

Elias blinked once. "You an to tell I’d still technically be working for Ego?"

Victor made a thoughtful noise, chin still resting comfortably on his knees, like Elias was both throne and altar.

"Well. Not for him," he said diplomatically. "Just near him. Adjacently. Spiritually. On paper."

Elias narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. "Victor."

Victor didn’t flinch. "You’d be autonomous. Title of CEO. Unchecked executive authority. Legacy heir. All the drama. All the control. And only the occasional mandated quarterly summit with a dozen demigods and a spectral ledger that calculates profit in karma."

"I knew there was a catch," Elias muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

Victor leaned in a little closer, practically purring. "There’s also a black card. No spending cap. Unlimited budget for whatever aesthetic vengeance you deem appropriate."

Elias groaned. "You are ridiculous."

"And you’re radiant when you’re plotting."

Victor sat back on his heels, hands still draped over Elias’s legs like he couldn’t bear to let go just yet. "Do you know how beautiful this is? The people who erased you and buried you in paperwork and sha left a power vacuum so perfect I didn’t even have to fabricate the board’s death."

Elias blinked at the man in front of him. "You’re saying you didn’t kill them?"