First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess

Xavier had given a chance to the guard to correct his mistake.

The guard’s chest heaved, pride warring against survival. His eyes darted to Victor, maybe hoping for a lifeline, but Victor stayed stone-faced, arms crossed, unwilling to risk his own neck for someone beneath him. The crowd was a wall of eyes, waiting, hungry, whispering. The pressure broke him.

With a shaky exhale, the guard’s knees hit the floor. The dull thud echoed across the club like a gunshot. He lowered his head, sweat dripping onto the polished surface. His voice cracked, trembling but loud enough for everyone to hear.

”I—I was wrong. I shouldn’t have raised my gun and pushed you back. I apologize. Please forgive me.”

Xavier tilted his chin toward Angel. ”Not to me. To her.”

The guard swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. He turned his head toward Angel, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched the floor. ”Miss... I’m sorry. I never should have threatened you. Please... forgive me.”

The crowd erupted—some gasped, some laughed, some cheered. Phones were up everywhere, flashes lighting the room as dozens recorded the scene. Angel stood frozen, her lips slightly parted, her hand instinctively clutching Reva’s sleeve. For the first time, she didn’t know what to do with all those eyes on her.

Xavier’s presence loomed over the guard like a shadow. The man dared not move, still pressed to the ground, waiting for Angel’s word.

Angel froze for a second, every eye in the room stabbing into her. She wasn’t used to being the one in the spotlight, with a man twice her size groveling at her feet. The guard’s voice still lingered in the air, desperate, pleading, almost pathetic.

She glanced at Xavier, almost as if asking what she should do, but he didn’t say a word. His silence was deliberate—this was her call. If Angel chose not to forgive him, then Xavier would make sure the guard never woke up.

Angel’s jaw tightened. She straightened her back and took a small step forward, her heels clicking against the floor like a hammer against the guard’s pride. She looked down at him, her voice steady even though her heart pounded.

”Get up.”

The guard jerked, almost in disbelief, before scrambling to his feet, eyes darting nervously between her and Xavier.

Angel’s tone sharpened. ”Next time you point a gun at someone just to look tough, make sure you’re ready to deal with the consequences. Because today—” she let the word hang, eyes narrowing, ”—you’re walking away only because he’s letting you.” She tilted her head slightly toward Xavier.

The crowd murmured, a mix of approval and awe. For a moment, the fear in the guard’s eyes wasn’t only for Xavier, it was for her too.

Reva smirked at Angel from the side, almost proud, while Victor’s jaw clenched, the gold letters of his necklace gleaming under the club lights as he watched control slipping further away. Even though his name was Victor, at that moment, he surely wasn’t.

Now that everything was clear, they went back upstairs to the room.

Oliver darted ahead the moment they reached the corridor, muttering something about pissing his soul out as he vanished into the washroom. Reva and Angel trailed side by side, their quiet chatter half-lost under the muffled bass thumping from below. Xavier kept his pace easy at the back, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes drifting lazily over the dim lights guiding the stairwell.

Then Angel slowed.

At first, it seemed casual—her steps lighter, dragging just enough that Reva drifted ahead. But soon she came to a stop completely, her shoulders stiff. Xavier frowned and called out, ”What’s wrong?”

No response.

He stepped closer, laid a hand on her shoulder, and before he could push for an answer, she jerked his hand away and shoved him hard against the wall. Xavier tensed, instincts telling him he could’ve turned the tables in a heartbeat—yet he didn’t. Because what came next wasn’t an attack.

Her lips pressed against his.

For a second, Xavier’s mind went blank. It wasn’t soft or timid—it was firm, lingering, as if she needed him to understand something words couldn’t touch. Ten whole seconds of silence, of muffled music, of Angel locking him in place before she finally pulled away.

She straightened herself quickly, her voice sharp to cover what she’d done. ”Don’t get the wrong idea. That kiss was just... a friendly way of saying thanks.” And with that, she strode off without looking back.

Xavier stayed leaned against the wall for a beat, the ghost of her lips still lingering. Then, with a faint smirk tugging his mouth, he followed her into the room.

Reva’s eyes immediately narrowed, suspicion clear. ”What took you two so long? You were right behind me.”

Angel didn’t miss a beat. ”Nothing. Just slowed down. Now shut up, I’ve got work to do.” She sat at the desk, opening her screen without meeting anyone’s eyes.

Reva glanced between them, studying Xavier’s face, but he gave her nothing, except only that unreadable calm that always pissed her off. After a moment, she let it go, though the doubt didn’t leave her eyes.

Oliver barged in, looking more relieved than anyone wanted to know after finally getting to take his leak. ”Man, I swear, they need more bathrooms in this place,” he muttered, flopping onto the couch at his usual spot.

Angel was already back at her desk, acting like nothing happened, her fingers tapping away at the console with that sharp focus she always put on when she didn’t want to talk. Reva, on the other hand, was lounging on the bed, arms crossed, her crimson eyes flicking between Angel and Xavier like she was watching some hidden play unravel in front of her.

Xavier settled into the couch, leaning back like nothing had happened, though his eyes flicked toward Angel at the desk. She still hadn’t looked his way once, her attention glued to her holo screen as if the numbers and codes were the only things in the world that mattered.

With a lazy smirk, Xavier pulled out his phone and typed a quick message.

[That kiss was so bad. You should start thanking me more often, even for small things. Maybe then you’ll learn how to thank me properly.]

He hit send.

Across the room, Angel didn’t twitch, didn’t spare him a glance. Her fingers kept moving across the screen with the same cold precision. But Xavier caught it—her cheeks turning a shade too warm, her ears flushing red.

The corner of his mouth curved sharper. She could try to play it off, pretend nothing happened, but he’d already seen enough. She was rattled, and Xavier loved every second of it.