Sweet Revenge With My Billionaire Vampire-Chapter 81: The Attacker Becomes The Victim

A confused expression crossed Vincent’s face as he brushed the man’s hand off his shoulder, straightening his jacket. "Excuse me?"

The thug’s grin faded instantly, and he grabbed Vincent’s arm, yanking him forward until their faces were mere inches apart. His once-playful tone turned cold and aggressive.

"Did I fucking stutter?" he asked, his fingers digging into the vampire’s sleeve. "I said empty your pockets. We’re robbing you, you little shit."

Vincent blinked, processing the situation. He wasn’t confused that they wanted to rob him—no, that part was clear. But rather, he was confused about why they thought he had money in the first place. He was a vampire who didn’t even live in the human world. Why would he have cash on him?

But, then again, they didn’t know that. To them, he was just some weak-looking guy loitering in an alley. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"I don’t have a single penny on me," he told them plainly, shaking his head. "I have no use for money in this sad excuse of a world you humans live in."

The thug in front wasn’t having it. His patience was already thin. He reached down, his fingers aiming to shove into Vincent’s pocket and take whatever was in there himself.

But before he could, Vincent slapped both hands over his pockets, blocking him. "Don’t you know you’re not supposed to touch another man’s pocket? It’s very disrespectful."

That was the last straw. The thug’s face twisted with anger as he grabbed Vincent roughly by the collar and dragged him further into the alleyway. The second thug stepped in as well, their broad figures now completely blocking the exit.

As he shoved Vincent backward, he stumbled but quickly regained his footing.

The thug in front scoffed, his fingers curling into fists at his sides as he took a step closer, towering over Vincent with a menacing glare. "You think we’re playing around here?"

The one behind also moved closer, shaking his head. "Just hand everything over, man. Unless you want to go home with a broken face... or worse, end up dead."

Vincent was completely unfazed. There wasn’t a single ounce of fear in his expression. If anything, he looked bored. He had spent most of his life in the vampire world being the scared one, the weakling, and the easy target. He had been pushed around, ignored, and sometimes even humiliated. But that was his world. He would be damned if he let humans do the same to him here.

"Are you threatening me?" he asked. "How rude."

The thug in front was done talking. With an angry growl, he lunged forward, swinging a heavy fist straight at Vincent’s face.

Vincent ducked, evading the punch just as the man’s fist sliced through the air. Straightening back up, he raised both hands beside his head in surrender, his expression remaining calm. "Listen, you should stop. I really don’t want to fight you."

The second thug let out a loud, mocking laugh. He stepped in and grabbed him roughly by the collar, yanking him up with ease. "What the hell is a twig-looking guy like you gonna do?"

Then he blinked, and Vincent was no longer in his grasp. He let out a confused ’huh,’ looking down at his empty hand before glancing around frantically.

A soft chuckle reached his ears, and he spun around to see Vincent standing behind him, smiling playfully.

He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. He didn’t remember the last time he had smiled—really smiled—since Enzo and Andrei left the vampire world. Ever since then, his days had been nothing but following Damien’s orders, running around like a terrified servant, dreading every moment he spent under the king’s cold gaze.

But right now, he felt superior. Even if it was just two dumb humans who thought they were tough, it was still something.

A cheerful giggle escaped him as he raised a hand, gesturing toward the alley’s exit. "Seriously, I don’t want to fight. You two seem like kind gentlemen—" (They absolutely did not.) "—so why don’t we just go our separate ways? You two head off and do... whatever it is you do, and I’ll do the same. Doesn’t that sound like a great–"

He barely finished his sentence before a heavy, unexpected blow slammed into his face. His head snapped violently to the side, sending a sharp sting through his cheek, his vision flashing white for a second.

He stumbled slightly, the smell of iron filling his nose as something warm trickled down his chin. A single drop of blood hit the ground, splattering across his shoe.

For a moment, he just stood there, silent. Then he lifted a hand to his face, his fingers brushing over the fresh cut on his cheek. His nose was bleeding too.

The sight of his blood was something he hated.

Slowly, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a white handkerchief. He wiped the blood from his cheek and nose, pausing to stare at the red stain that now marred the fabric before tossing it aside.

"Well, you started it," he muttered, lifting his head to look at the two men.

The thug who had punched him snarled, his fist shooting out again, aiming for another brutal strike.

This time, Vincent caught it. His fingers clamped around the man’s fist—both hands gripping it tightly.

The thug’s confidence shattered the moment he realized his hand wasn’t moving. He tried to pull away, but it was like his fist had been locked in place. A look of panic crossed his face as he struggled, the veins in his neck straining.

A devilish smile spread across Vincent’s face as he applied just a fraction of his vampire strength—just enough to not kill a human. And then, with a flick of his arm, he threw him.

The man’s body launched sideways, slamming into the alley wall with bone-rattling force. His back flattened against the brick, the sheer impact keeping him stuck there for a split second before gravity took over.

He peeled off the wall and hit the ground face-first with a heavy thud, his limbs sprawled awkwardly. A groan slipped from his lips, his body twitching in pain.