Villain Origin : Every Crime I Commit Helps Me Level Up-Chapter 22: One Week

Whispers spread through the underground like wildfire. A new player was making moves in the city, methodically gathering the smaller gangs under one banner. No one knew his face, only that he operated with calculated precision. Some dismissed it as rumor. Others knew better.

Andre Atlas sat in the back row of Professor Weston's Advanced Business Strategy lecture, his attention split between the projected slides and the notifications silently lighting up his phone. He maintained a perfect facade of the attentive student—back straight, occasionally jotting notes with his Mont Blanc pen. To his classmates, he was simply the quiet Atlas.

None of them knew what he did after class.

Julian leaned over slightly from the seat beside him. "You ever wonder if Weston actually made money in business? Or is he just a guy who read enough case studies to sound convincing?"

Andre smirked but kept his gaze forward. "If he made real money, he wouldn't be teaching."

Gia, on his other side, tapped her pen against her notebook. "Some people like to teach, you know. Not everything is about profit."

Julian snorted. "Says the girl taking finance electives."

Gia rolled her eyes. "Says the guy who copies my notes when he forgets class exists."

Andre glanced between them, amused but silent. Their banter was familiar, grounding in a way he rarely acknowledged.

Julian stretched, stifling a yawn. "Alright, serious question. If you had to start a business today, what would it be?"

Gia tilted her head, considering. "Something sustainable. Maybe luxury fashion but with ethically sourced materials. People love spending money on feeling good about themselves."

Julian nodded in approval. "Smart. Profitable. Guilt-free consumerism." He turned to Andre. "And you?"

Andre barely hesitated. "Distribution."

Julian frowned. "Of what?"

Andre let a slow smile form. "Whatever people are willing to pay for."

Julian stared for a beat, then let out a low whistle. "See, that's the kind of answer that makes me think you already own something off the books."

Gia side-eyed Andre but said nothing.

The professor called on Julian to answer a question, saving Andre from further curiosity. As Julian scrambled for a response.

Andre exhaled slowly.

Somewhere in the city, At the Eclipse Tower top floor.

The executive suite of Eclipse Tower was an empire in itself—dark mahogany panels, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a quiet luxury that made visitors feel both impressed and insignificant. The walls were lined with paintings that whispered of old money and generational power.

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Marcus Vale stood before the massive desk, composed and unshaken. Across from him, Victor Caldwell sat in his high-backed chair, fingers lightly tapping against the polished wood.

Silence stretched between them, filled only by the measured ticking of the grandfather clock.

Marcus knew better than to speak first.

Victor finally leaned back, his sharp gaze cutting through the dimly lit room. "Report."

Marcus inclined his head slightly. "The Big Holding meeting is approaching. No set date, but everything is moving into place."

Victor gave a slow, considering nod. He trusted Marcus to handle the logistics.

"The package has been delivered," Marcus continued.

Victor's expression remained unreadable. "And?"

"Secure. No issues on our end."

Victor tapped his fingers once against the desk, signaling that was all he needed to hear. The matter was already done in his mind.

After a pause, Marcus decided to bring up something else. "There's another development."

Victor barely looked interested.

"Andre Atlas," Marcus said, watching carefully for Victor's reaction.

Victor finally raised an eyebrow. "Maxwell's son?"

Marcus nodded. "He's been making moves. Forming a group. People are talking."

Victor exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. "And why should I care?"

Marcus had expected that response. He kept his expression neutral, but inside, Zaria's warning echoed:

"Don't underestimate him."

He couldn't push the subject—not when Victor had already dismissed it—but he made a mental note. If Andre was a threat, Marcus would find out himself.

For now, he had his own plans.

A smirk ghosted across his lips.

'Maxwell has one week to sign the contract. After that, there will be no negotiations.'

Later that day.

Andre walked into the estate with his usual quiet confidence. Harrison, the head butler, greeted him with a short nod.

"Your father requests your presence."

Andre's expression remained unreadable. "Lead the way."

Harrison turned, and Andre followed without hesitation. He wasn't concerned about what Maxwell had to say—his mind was already on bigger things.

Inside the study, Maxwell Atlas sat behind his desk, his posture composed, expression carefully neutral.

Andre shut the door behind him.

"Sit," Maxwell ordered.

Andre did, entirely relaxed.

Maxwell studied him for a moment before speaking. "Marcus Vale came to see me today."

That got Andre's attention. His expression remained calm, but his mind sharpened.

'Marcus Vale. A lieutenant of Solar Shade. Of all people, how did he know I was creating a gang just to rival them and destroy them?'

Maxwell leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. "He sat in this very chair and told me exactly what my son has been doing. The recruitment. The alliances. The deals."

Andre didn't move. "And what did he want?"

Maxwell's jaw tightened. "To make it clear that your actions are noticed—and that they won't be tolerated."

Andre exhaled slowly, already piecing it together. "He threatened you."

Maxwell's lips pressed into a thin line. "He reminded me of the risks. Of what happens when someone—especially my son—starts upsetting the balance."

Andre leaned back in his chair, processing. If Marcus had been sent, that meant Solar Shade was already moving against him. But how did they find out so fast? Who was watching him this closely?

"You're playing a dangerous game," Maxwell continued. "One that doesn't end with boardrooms and press conferences. This is a world where mistakes get people killed."

Andre met his father's gaze evenly. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

Maxwell's fingers curled into a fist. "Then you know that Marcus Vale doesn't give warnings for free. If he came here, it means he's already made a decision about you."

Andre stood, buttoning his blazer. "Then he'll have to live with the consequences."

Maxwell exhaled, shaking his head. "This isn't just about you anymore."

Andre's expression remained unreadable. "I know."

Maxwell's voice dropped, colder now. "You really don't. You think this is about power plays and rivalries—but Marcus didn't just come here to warn me."

Andre narrowed his eyes.

Maxwell let the words settle before continuing. "Last time, I refused to sign the contract. And as punishment for your stupidity, I have one week to fix that mistake." His expression darkened. "If I don't, they'll burn everything with the Atlas name to the ground. You. Me. Our people. No exceptions."

A slow silence stretched between them.

Andre absorbed the weight of it, but his resolve didn't waver.

He gave his father a long, measured look. "Then I guess I have a week to make sure that doesn't happen."

Without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving Maxwell alone with the weight of his words.