Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!-Chapter 356: Irresistible Noctavine Vaelith Draven

Noctavine Vaelith Draven.

The matriarch of the Origin Vampires didn't walk—she arrived, like nightfall slipping in through silk drapes and making everyone forget what light felt like. The air around her practically sighed. Long legs wrapped in a slit-gray noble dress, her skin pale like carved moonstone, her cleavage unapologetically framed in lace, and that hair—deep crimson waves cascading down her back, kissing her curves with every step.

Her presence was... unapologetically sovereign. Temptation wrapped in authority. And Parker?

Parker stared.

Not the polite kind of glance, not even the usual cold-and-calculated prince stare. This was heat. Intrigue. A rare flicker of want that sparked in his chest and crawled all the way up his throat like something primal had just tapped the glass of his control.

Something about her told him she wasn't meant to belong to anyone—but damn if he didn't feel like she should've been his.

Already. Somehow. Somewhere.

Off to the side, Maya rolled her eyes with zero subtlety.

What did she expect?

Of course her man was going to be hit with that ancient-vampire-aura-of-irresistible-blood-and-thighs. She didn't blame him. But she was still going to glare at him for it.

Tessa, on the other hand, wasn't glaring.

She was calculating.

Her gaze flicked from Parker to Noctavine, and then back again, and a soft smirk curled at the edge of her lips. She wasn't jealous. Not in the way most women would be.

No—Tessa was planning.

Because if Parker was going to collect goddesses, titans, phoenixes, vampires, and old flames like trophies in a vault, then someone had to own the room from the inside.

Someone had to sit in the Empress seat.

And it wasn't going to be Maya.

Noctavine was just one piece. Just one name on a list. Tessa had already made a quiet vow to herself that every woman Parker looked at like that—every past lover, every acquaintance that might find her way into his arms—was going to end up on Tessa's side.

Every. Single. One.

Because it wasn't just about love anymore. It was about power. Alliance. Control.

And Tessa was playing chess in a room full of queens.

Parker, of course, was completely unaware of the strategic cold war unraveling in real-time over his harem. His eyes were still locked on Noctavine, like a man watching a forbidden poem write itself in slow motion.

And she hadn't even realized the way he was looking at her.

Now that he knew—really knew—that Noctavine Vaelith Draven was Scarlett's mother, Parker couldn't stop the shift. That villain gear in his mind clicked into place like a crown reattaching itself after centuries.

His smile curled at the edges, slow and dangerous, as the thought played out.

What would Scarlett do?

What would that arrogant, cruel, bloodline-bloated vampire brat do when she realized that the man she used to treat like a fucking slave—used, mocked, humiliated—was not only a Nyxlith Prince she and her whole damn house had to kneel to…

But also the man who bedded her mother?

Scarlett Draven, calling him…

Daddy?

Hehehe.

The thought alone was better than revenge.

[Wasn't Nyxavere calling you daddy enough?] Levi teased inside his head, that signature playful purr laced with amusement.

Parker chuckled low, eyes still locked on Noctavine like he was studying the curves of irony itself. "You don't know the half of it, Levi."

"You know how much I went through in that club because of that girl?" His voice in his own mind darkened, amused but heavy. "Scarlett haunted me. Tortured me. Stripped me of dignity and called it sport. And now?"

"Now I don't just want revenge. That's too kind. I will give her more than just that."

"I want to give her something that will haunt her for eternity."

"I'm not dying. I'm not reincarnating again. I'm eternal now. That means she'll see me forever. And every time she hears her mother's vampiric moan…"

"She'll hear it follow with 'Daddy'." frёewebnoѵēl.com

The word echoed in his mind like a symphony of pettiness. It resonated through his soul. He could already see it—Scarlett's eyes shattering like mirrors under godlight. Her pride, collapsing. Her fury, worthless.

And she wasn't even the only one.

He glanced briefly at Helena, that sharp flash in his eye catching someone else standing just behind her.

The thoughts didn't end there.

They never did.

Levi was cackling now. Full-blown chaotic laughter inside his mind.

[The way that word just hits your soul…]

Parker didn't answer—but he didn't have to.

Nyxavere, floating near him in silence, smiled—soft and satisfied. Levi had deliberately projected the entire conversation into her mind, and Nyxavere? She didn't mind.

She liked her daddy's villain era.

She liked when his thoughts were sharp, twisted, and painted with retribution.

Because if Parker was going to be King…

He might as well make every revenge poetic.

*

"What a wonderful reunion," came the voice—smooth as velvet, and just as dangerous.

Noctavine Vaelith Draven stepped forward, her heels clicking against the polished floor like they were marking time itself. Her voice carried a sweetness, yes, but it dripped with shadows, wrapped in that subtle kind of menace only beings ancient enough to sip darkness like wine could possess.

She moved with lethal elegance, each stride deliberate, unhurried. Then—before anyone could question her intent—she bowed.

A full, ceremonial bow, graceful and exact.

The kind of bow a loyal subject would offer their sovereign.

Arms crossed over her chest, head low, one leg extended slightly back in a perfect arc of deference. Her blood-red hair flowed like liquid flame over her shoulders, and her fangs peeked just barely behind that ever-knowing smile.

"I am Noctavine Vaelith Draven," she said, voice purring like a night hymn. "Leader of the Vampires of the Purest and the Draven Bloodline. Matriarch of the Draven Family. And by blood and vow… the Commander of Your Shadow Army, my Prince."

There was no mockery in her tone. No irony. Only reverence. Cold. Clean. Absolute.

And just like that, the flow began.

A spark turned current.

As if Noctavine had broken some invisible seal, the room stirred.

Evelyn stepped forward next, her expression calm but eyes burning faintly with pride. She gave a firm nod of respect, one hand to her chest. Her greeting was silent, but powerful. A daughter of the Nyxlith had no need for long speeches.

And then—

Annabelle.

She moved slower. Her steps were hesitant, uneven. Her breath caught in her throat halfway there. But still—she came forward. She bowed. A little shaky. A little stiff. But she bowed all the same, because fear or not, she understood exactly what Parker was now.

What he had always been.

He looked at them all, gaze sweeping across their forms like the crown was already settled on his head.

Then he nodded once.

"Let's proceed," he said. "Everyone. To the Throne Hall."

It was time to settle somethings.