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Midas Protocol: Seducing My Rival's Wife

Midas Protocol: Seducing My Rival's Wife

I sat in the freezing conference room, my knuckles white as I strangled a cheap plastic pen. Outside, Manhattan was weeping in the gray rain, but inside, the air was sterile and dead. I stared at the polished mahogany table, seeing the distorted reflection of a man who hadn't slept in forty-eight hours—a man about to sign his own divorce papers. Across from me, my wife Linda wouldn't even look at me. She was too busy drumming her fingers near a diamond ring that cost more than I had made in the last five years combined. Then the door swung open, and Simon Thorne walked in. The billionaire heir didn't say a word; he just walked behind Linda and placed a heavy, possessive hand on her shoulder, marking her as his. "Let's wrap this up," Simon said, checking his Patek Philippe with the bored tone of a man ordering a coffee he didn't want. Linda finally looked through me like I was a ghost and told me to stop dragging this out. She whispered that I couldn't even afford myself anymore, a physical punch to the gut given I’d lost my job three weeks ago. After I signed, Simon flicked a business card at me, mockingly offering me a job as a doorman for minimum wage. I walked out into the downpour, shivering in a suit I couldn't afford to dry clean. My phone vibrated with a text from my landlord: "Pack your things. Keys by tonight or I’m calling the cops." I stood on the corner of 5th Avenue with exactly $42.18 to my name, watching Simon kiss my wife through the glass wall of the penthouse. I was thirty, homeless, and drowning in a city of lions. I wanted to roar until my throat bled, but I just stood there, a drowned rat in a world of predators. How could I have lost everything so fast? Why was the woman who promised to stay through "for poorer" now leaning into the arms of the man who just humiliated me? Suddenly, my phone screen exploded with a blinding golden light. An app called the Midas Protocol installed itself, declaring poverty a disease and itself the cure. With one tap, a million dollars bypassed a federal hold and hit my account, and a "Nemesis Card" appeared in my digital inventory. I didn't hesitate. I typed Simon Thorne’s name into the vengeance algorithm and hit execute. The game had officially changed.
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Chapter 6

Three days later. Duke sat in a Starbucks, his laptop open. He wasn't trading stocks. He was reading. The System had suggested he familiarize himself with the financial landscape, but mostly, he was waiting. He took a sip of his latte. It was lukewarm. The Coincidence Generator he had used three days ago was a low-level item, but the System had hinted that its effects could have "ripples." Minor probability distortions that lingered in the target's vicinity. His phone rang. Unknown Number. Duke smiled. He let it ring twice. "Hello?" "Duke?" The voice was hesitant. "It's Victoria. From the other day? With the car?" "Hi Victoria," Duke said, keeping his voice calm, warm. "Is the car acting up again?" "No, the car is fine," she said. She sounded breathless. Stressed. "Look, this is incredibly forward, and I'm sorry to bother you, but... do you know anything about residential electrical systems?" Duke leaned back in his chair. "I know a bit. Why?" "Half the power in my apartment just died," she said. "The freezer is defrosting, the security system is beeping, and the building super says he can't get here until tomorrow because it's a holiday weekend." She paused. "Simon is in London for business. I... I didn't know who else to call. I remembered you said you worked in a garage, so I thought maybe you were handy..." Duke checked the App. _System Notification: Probability Ripple Effect Active._ _Event: Localized Circuit Failure (Thorne Residence)._ It wasn't a new card. It was the echo of the last one. A lucky break. "I can take a look," Duke said. "I'm actually in the city today." "Oh, thank you," she breathed. "Thank you so much." Twenty minutes later, Duke stood in the lobby of 15 Central Park West. The doorman looked at him suspiciously but let him up after Victoria buzzed him in. The elevator opened directly into the penthouse. Victoria was waiting. She was wearing yoga pants and an oversized cashmere sweater. She looked smaller in the vast, open space of the apartment. "Come in," she said, ushering him inside. The apartment was a museum of wealth. Modern art. Marble floors. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the park. But it felt cold. Sterile. Duke stepped into the foyer. He saw a pair of men's loafers by the door. Simon's shoes. Duke felt a wave of revulsion, but he pushed it down. "Where's the breaker box?" he asked. "In the utility closet, down the hall," Victoria said. She led the way. The hallway was narrow. As they walked, Duke caught the scent of her perfume again. Jasmine and vanilla. She stopped at a door. "In here," she said. She stepped back to let him pass. There wasn't much room. Duke had to squeeze past her. His chest brushed against her shoulder. She took a sharp intake of breath. Duke stopped. He looked down at her. She was looking up at him, her eyes wide, pupils dilated. For a second, nobody moved. The air crackled with electricity that had nothing to do with the fuse box. "Excuse me," Duke murmured. He stepped into the closet. He opened the panel. He didn't know anything about high-end residential wiring. But he didn't need to. The System projected a translucent blue overlay onto his retina. _Dialogue Prompt: "It's just a tripped breaker. Probably overloaded."_ _Action Guide: Flip Switch 4._ Duke followed the instructions. He flipped the breaker switch. Thunk. The lights in the hallway flickered and steadied. The beeping of the alarm stopped. "You did it!" Victoria cheered from the doorway. Duke didn't turn around immediately. He was looking at the data scrolling across his retina. _Secondary Detection: Electronic Surveillance Signal._ Signal Source: Master Bedroom. Signal Source: Guest Bathroom. Signal Source: Living Room (Audio Only). He turned to face her. "Just a tripped breaker," he said. "Probably overloaded." "You are a lifesaver," Victoria said. "Can I... can I get you some water? Or coffee?" "Water would be great," Duke said. They walked back to the kitchen. It was massive, gleaming with stainless steel. Victoria poured him a glass of ice water. Her hand was shaking slightly as she handed it to him. "So," Duke said, taking a sip. "Husband in London?" "Yes," she said, leaning against the counter. She crossed her arms, a defensive posture. "He travels a lot." "Must be hard," Duke said. "Being alone in a place this big." Victoria looked around the room. "It gets... quiet," she admitted. "Quiet can be dangerous," Duke said softly. "It gives you too much time to think." Victoria looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?" Duke put the glass down. "I mean," he said, lowering his voice. "That sometimes, silence hides things we don't want to hear." He took a step closer to her. He needed to tell her. But he couldn't say he saw it with a magic app. He had to improvise. "Victoria, when I was fixing the fuse... I noticed something." Her face paled. "What?" "The wiring," Duke lied smoothly. "The load on the circuit was weird. It was drawing power from places that shouldn't have active devices." "Added what?" Duke looked toward the hallway leading to the bedroom. "I'm not sure. But it's drawing power from the master bedroom line." He looked her in the eye. "Do you mind if I check the smoke detector in there?"

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