The Steel War God

Three years ago. Rain fell over Crown City like a curtain of gray steel, turning the streets into rivers of light and shadow. On the worn pavement outside Saint Mercy Hospital, a young man knelt beneath the flickering streetlamp, clutching a crumpled receipt in one trembling hand. Adrian Steele had always believed he was strong. But that night, for the first time, he realized strength meant nothing against fate. The receipt was a hospital bill—his mother’s surgery. $280,000. For the doctors, it was a number. For him, it was a death sentence. Inside the ward, the monitors kept beeping, each tone a reminder that his mother’s time was running out. He had already sold everything—his father’s house, his motorcycle, even the watch his mother had given him on his eighteenth birthday. And still, it wasn’t enough. The banks turned him down. The hospitals demanded advance payment. His relatives stopped answering the phone. When he finally staggered out of the emergency wing, soaked in rain and despair, a sleek black limousine stopped beside him. The window rolled down, revealing a woman’s face—cold, flawless, ethereal in the neon light. Evelyn Wainwright. The heiress of the Wainwright Group. The kind of woman who lived in another world entirely. “Mr. Steele,” she said softly, “I heard about your mother’s condition.” Adrian froze. “You… know me?” “I looked into your file,” she said. “You were the top engineering student in your year. The man who stood up to the dean when he tried to expel a classmate. You have… principles.” Her gaze didn’t waver. “And debts.” Adrian’s throat tightened. “If this is pity, save it.” “It isn’t pity.” Evelyn’s tone was calm. “It’s a deal.” She opened a small envelope and handed it to him. Inside was a check—two hundred and eighty thousand dollars, written in graceful cursive. “I’ll pay for your mother’s surgery,” she said. “In exchange, you’ll marry me.” Adrian thought he misheard. “Marry you?” “Yes,” she replied. “Legally. Publicly. My family wants me married before I inherit the company shares. I need someone obedient, discreet… and clean. You fit the description.” It was madness. It was humiliation. But as thunder rolled overhead, Adrian thought of the frail woman in the hospital bed—and signed. The wedding was quiet, almost secret. No flowers, no guests, only a few cold stares from the Wainwright family. To them, he was a stain on the family name. A man who married into wealth to save his mother. “Remember your place,” Evelyn’s mother, Fae, had said during the ceremony. “You’re here because my daughter feels sorry for you. Don’t mistake this arrangement for love.” Adrian only bowed his head. “I understand.” He told himself he didn’t care. That gratitude was enough. That one day, he’d earn the right to stand beside her—not as a debtor, but as a man. And for a while, he believed it. Evelyn never mocked him, never treated him with cruelty. She was distant, yes—but kind in her own way. Sometimes she’d stay up late helping him cook porridge for his mother, or silently refill his coffee while he worked overtime repairing machines for her company’s factory. Those quiet moments made him forget that their marriage was a transaction. Until the day everything fell apart. The Wainwright Group began collapsing overnight—bad investments, broken contracts, hostile takeovers. The board turned against Evelyn, blaming her leadership. Her father’s health failed under the pressure, and creditors circled like vultures. Amid the chaos, a new name emerged—Marcus Hale, heir to the Hale Consortium. He offered to “assist” the Wainwrights in exchange for influence. He was young, charming, and every inch the golden prince of Crown City. And behind the smile, he hid a wolf’s hunger. At first, Adrian paid him no attention—until he caught Marcus staring at Evelyn one evening during a business banquet, eyes burning with something that wasn’t respect. That night, Adrian told his wife quietly, “Be careful of him.” Evelyn only sighed. “We need his help, Adrian. Without the Hales, we’ll go under.” She didn’t see what Adrian saw. The way Marcus’s gaze lingered. The way he dismissed Adrian like a servant. And then came the night of the storm. A girl—barely seventeen—was found unconscious behind the Silver Gate Hotel. Her family was powerful. The news exploded within hours. The police received an anonymous tip: a man in a black coat seen fleeing the scene—matching Adrian Steele’s description. By dawn, his name was everywhere. “Son-in-law of the Wainwrights suspected of s****l assault.” He was dragged out of his home in handcuffs while reporters screamed questions. Evelyn stood frozen in the doorway, disbelief written across her face. Her mother wept from shame. Her father turned away. And as Adrian was shoved into the police car, he saw Marcus Hale standing across the street, umbrella in hand, smiling faintly. That night, Marcus came to his cell. The guards stepped aside for him. “Relax,” Marcus said smoothly, setting down a briefcase. “This doesn’t have to destroy you.” Adrian glared at him. “What do you want?” “I want peace,” Marcus said, voice dripping with false sympathy. “My family’s reputation is on the line. The girl’s father is furious. But if someone takes the blame, it all goes away.” Adrian’s breath caught. “You did it.” Marcus smiled. “You’re a smart man. And you love your wife, don’t you? Her company’s in trouble. Her parents are drowning in debt. You go to prison for three years, I make sure she and the Wainwright Group survive.” Adrian stared at him, silent. Marcus leaned closer. “You’ll be branded a criminal. But when you come out, she’ll still have a home. Isn’t that worth it?” For a long moment, rain hammered the window like a heartbeat. Then Adrian nodded. “I’ll do it.” The next morning, he signed the confession. The trial was quick. The verdict, predetermined. The media called him a disgrace. Evelyn never visited him again. As the gates of Blackwater Penitentiary closed behind him, he thought he was walking into punishment. He didn’t know he was walking into destiny.