Loser to Legend: Gathering Wives with My Unlimited Money System
Chapter 134: Surprise at the Midnight Club

Chapter 134: Surprise at the Midnight Club

Xavier didn’t feel like going to the academy today.

Not because he was lazy—but because it just didn’t matter anymore.

Not to him.

Once his revenge was complete, he was leaving this planet anyway. The academy? These classrooms? That world of status and pretense?

It would all be beneath his feet soon.

He stepped out of his room, towel still draped over his shoulders, abs faintly glistening under the apartment’s morning lights.

Eamon was sitting on the living room couch. Dressed. Ready. But not moving. Just staring at the wall with this faraway look in his eyes.

Xavier slowed his steps. He remembered—Eamon had asked to meet him in the morning a few days ago. But the guy never showed up. Now here he was, sitting like a man drowning in silence.

Xavier walked over and stood next to the couch. "You good?"

Eamon blinked, startled out of his daze. He looked up and smiled, a little forced. "Oh... hey. Yeah. I was just about to head out for work."

Xavier sat on the edge of the couch, towel still around his neck. "You don’t have to work anymore, you know."

Eamon looked away. "I can’t just rely on you like that."

"You can," Xavier said. "I trust you. Now, you wanna tell me what you wanted to talk about? Back then? You said you wanted to meet but vanished."

Eamon hesitated, fingers tightening around the strap of his work bag. "...I wasn’t sure if I should ask for your help."

Xavier raised a brow. "Ask."

"I’ve been... trying to open a company," Eamon said. "To rebuild the Lumina empire. Quietly. Before your father finds out that I failed."

Xavier stilled. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, he leaned forward, eyes sharp but warm. "You want to take it back?"

Eamon nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"Good," Xavier said. "Then I’ll help you. Whatever it takes."

"I just... I need a bit of capital to get it registered," Eamon admitted, voice low. "About fifty grand should be enough for now. I’ll ask for more later if needed."

Xavier grinned. "What’s your payment gateway?"

Eamon blinked. "Huh?"

"You want money, right? Drop your link or whatever."

Still a bit awkward, Eamon opened his phone and passed it to Xavier. "Here. This is the temp account I made..."

Xavier clicked a few buttons. Done.

[TRANSFER SUCCESSFUL — $1,000,000 Sent]

Eamon’s jaw dropped as the confirmation pinged. "Wait—what? You sent a million?! I said fifty thousand—"

"You’re family," Xavier said with a shrug. "Fifty grand is what strangers ask for. A million is what brothers get."

Eamon blinked again. His throat moved like he wanted to say something. But he didn’t.

Xavier stood up and patted his shoulder once. "Build something better. Burn his legacy down and make your own."

Eamon stared at the screen for a long time, then nodded slowly. "Thanks... Xavier. Really."

Xavier walked off toward the kitchen, hand raised in a lazy wave. "Don’t thank me yet. This is just round one."

Xavier was halfway through his cup of black coffee when his phone buzzed.

[Incoming Call: Angel.]

He tapped to pick it up and brought it to his ear. "Yo."

"Xavier?" Angel’s voice crackled through, slightly louder than usual. Background music thumped behind her—bass-heavy and chaotic. "What the hell is this?"

"What?"

"You sent me a million dollars last night. You sleep-transfered me a million. What’s going on? Are you dying or something?! Don’t pull a death-flag like that outta nowhere, asshole."

Xavier smirked and took another sip. "Nah. It’s your fee. And your reward."

"...Fee?"

"For putting up with my shit. For helping me. For not snitching. And for making my life easier. I just forgot to say thanks properly."

There was a pause.

"...You’re being way too sweet. Seriously—are you dying?"

"Stop being dramatic. Where you at?"

"At the club. Midnight."

"I’ll be there soon."

After finishing breakfast with Lilia and Lyra at Seraphina’s place—a quick meal of roasted herb toast, black truffle eggs, and that damn signature silver tea Lilia liked too much—Xavier left a fat tip and walked out the glass doors of the restaurant.

Then he took his bike parked across the block and drove straight to the Midnight Club.

But before he could even reach the main door, one of the guards stepped forward and held out a hand.

"Sorry, sir. Club’s closed today."

Xavier raised a brow. "Really?"

"Rented out. Private party."

He didn’t argue. Instead, he slipped a hand into his coat and pulled out a sleek black membership card. Platinum border. Diamond logo. No name. Just the card.

The bouncer looked at it.

His jaw tightened slightly. He stepped back. "Understood. You can use the back entrance, sir. Front’s blocked out for the client’s guests."

Xavier didn’t say anything. Just turned and made his way down the side alley.

The backdoor was unguarded. As expected. It slid open with a hiss.

He walked in and immediately caught the stench—sweat, booze, sex, smoke.

And then he saw it.

The party was in full swing.

Dozens of bodies, men and women, were dancing in the dim neon lights—but naked. Fully exposed. Flesh against flesh. Tongues down throats. Hands between thighs. Some were already fucking in open view. Others laughed like it was just another Tuesday.

Even the song they were playing wasn’t in human language. At elast, that’s what it seemed like to Xavier. He couldn’t understand any of it. But even though he couldn’t, he was sure that it didn’t mean anything good.

Liquor spilled over marble countertops. White powder smeared across glass tables. Some dude was passed out with a belt still tied to his arm.

It was the epitome of filth. Vulgar. Raw. Chaotic. Like hell had thrown up inside a nightclub.

And right at the center of it all stood a beast of a man.

Obese. Sweaty. A full head taller than anyone else and twice as wide. His gut hung over his golden pants like a leaking sack of meat. A massive, custom-made diamond necklace hung around his neck, its pendant spelling out one word in giant bold letters:

VICTOR.

He had three women grinding on him like pets in heat. He was laughing, tossing champagne into the air like it was holy water.

Xavier’s gaze lingered on him for half a second.

Then he walked past the chaos without a word.

The corridor at the back was quieter. Cooler. The air didn’t reek here. Xavier adjusted his collar, brushed off his coat, and walked toward the private room at the end—Angel’s room.

The room Angel either rented or lowkey owned.

He pushed the door open.

"—Took your damn time," Angel muttered, sipping wine as she sat on the couch, legs crossed over one another in a sharp black slit-dress.

But that wasn’t what caught Xavier’s attention.

Sitting beside her... was Reva.

Reva. In a tight crimson jacket zipped halfway, her silver-blonde hair in a messy side braid, fangs faintly visible from her subtle smirk.

"Well, well," Reva said, lifting a glass to her lips. "The prodigy arrives."

Xavier’s brows twitched. He leaned against the doorway, voice low and amused. "What’s she doing here?"

Angel sipped her wine again, eyes glinting. "Surprise."