Chapter 193

When the supervisor heard the name Morix Sable, his smug expression twisted— then morphed into open mockery.

He sneered. "Morix? Please."

Jaden ignored him. Not a single glance. He calmly pulled out his phone and made the call like he was ordering lunch.

The line clicked.

"It's me," Jaden said coolly. "Morix, I'm outside your restaurant.”

That name—that one name-sent the group off again like someone hit a laugh track.

"Morix?" the supervisor barked, eyes wide with theatrical shock. "Oh, this is gold!" His underlings burst into loud, exaggerated laughter. One of them slapped the hood of a nearby car, wheezing. Another doubled over, clutching his sides.

"He's calling Mr. Sable now!" someone snorted. "What's next? He runs this street too?"

"Bet he's his caddy on weekends," another chimed in.

Their voices overlapped, layered with mockery. The kind of forced noise that only sounded brave when the target didn't hit back.

But then-

BAM!

The restaurant's office door exploded open.

A large man barreled out like a rhino on fire. No shoes. No hesitation. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned halfway down, his chest still slick with massage oil. Broad shoulders. Barrel chest. A scar just visible above the collarbone. Morix Sable.

His secretary clattered behind him in high heels, waving a pair of polished black Italian loafers in the air.

"Sir! Your shoes! You forgot your shoes again!"

Morix didn't stop. Didn't even glance back. He was halfway through a deep-tissue massage when the phone rang—and he had vaulted off the table like it was a bomb drill.

Now he rushed toward Jaden like his life depended on it.

The air around him carried weight. Men like Morix didn't sprint for anyone.

When he reached Jaden, he stopped cold and bowed-not some lazy nod, but a respectful, practiced tilt of the head. Just enough to signal exactly who owned this block.

"Sir," Morix said, his voice low, respectful, and laced with a strange kind of fear. "Welcome to Miracle Avenue. It's an honor to have you here."

His forehead glistened with sweat. The smile on his face was too careful, too tight. Respect. Straight-up deference.

And he was still barefoot.

The supervisor's mouth hung open mid-laugh. He looked like someone had yanked the batteries out of him. One hand was still half-raised, frozen mid-gesture.

His team on the other hand turned to statues.

Every last one of them looked like they were waiting for lightning to strike. The blood drained from their faces so fast it was like someone flipped a switch.

This couldn't be real.

This was Morix Sable. Ex-Eastern District military enforcer. The man who once beat a rival exec unconscious with a rolled up dossier during a budget meeting. CEOs used to rehearse conversations before meeting him. Entire companies had gone under from a single mod of disapproval.

And now he was barefoot, bowing, and calling Jaden-

Not "Mr."

Not "friend."

Sir.

Jaden didn't react. His voice was calm.

ét

"I'm here to try your food," he said, not sparing a glance at the security staff. "But apparently, your

gatekeepers think I'm a beggar They barred me at the door.” Content"

He let the sentence hang.

Morix's face went pale.

He turned eyes immediately locking on the supervisor and his crew. The air around him thickened. His bare feet stapped forward one step and somehow, that one step was loude than all the laughter from earlier.

"You did what?" he said, voice quiet, deadly.