Wait For You - 'Look After You' Sequel - A Michael Jackson Fanfiction

Chapter 15

Evelyn
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My club was alive tonight.
Every laugh, every deal, every exchange of hands was money turning into power, and power turning into silence.

That's how this world worked.

You earned respect by staying two steps ahead of the people who wanted your chair.

I'd gotten good at that.

"Distributors came early," Luca said, standing beside me at the edge of the balcony that overlooked the floor. His tone was steady, but his eyes were everywhere. "They said we're clear for the next two shipments."

I nodded once. "Keep the rotations tight. No one touches product unless their name's on our list."

He smirked faintly. "You're worse than your father ever was."

"That's why I'm still standing."

Luca leaned in, voice low. "Car's parked out front. I'll circle back after we close up."

"Good," I murmured. "Keep it close."

That's when it happened.

I had already been feeling a shift in the air, so I was prepared for whatever was going to happen.

The doors opened, and everything stopped.

Conversations faltered. The music stumbled, like even the sound system lost its rhythm.

The whole room seemed to breathe in at once.

And then, in that slow, deliberate way that only one man on earth could manage, Michael walked in.

A long black trench coat, the collar up.
Dark suit. Polished shoes.

Every inch of him controlled.

He didn't rush. He didn't have to.

The crowd parted for him like instinct, and the whispers rose like static.

"That's him—"
"I thought he was gone—"
"How the hell is he still breathing?"

Michael didn't look at anyone. His eyes found me the moment he stepped through the door, like he'd known exactly where I'd be.

Our gazes locked across the room.
Three years had gone, and it was the same look.
The one that saw through everything and gave nothing back.

Luca said nothing. Neither did I.
Because this..him showing up here, alive, in front of everyone wasn't a surprise.

It was inevitable.

Michael reached us in a few slow strides, and when he did, the air seemed to shrink around him.

He didn't speak right away. Didn't need to.
Then he passed close, so close the edge of his coat brushed my hand.

"Office," he said quietly. One word, sharp as a command.

He didn't wait for a response.

Luca arched a brow but said nothing as we followed him through the back hall, the noise of the club fading into a hush that matched the tension in my chest.

He opened the office door like it was still his.

I closed the door behind us, the click sounding final.

Michael was already standing by the window, his reflection framed in gold light.

For a second, I could almost see my father in him, the way he carried himself, the quiet power in the stillness.