The underground chamber smelled of secrecy. Hidden beneath one of the city’s most unsuspecting office complexes, the room was soundproofed, shielded from electronic surveillance, and accessible only through a series of locked corridors. Around a long black marble table sat three men, their faces obscured by the hoods of their tailored coats. No names were ever spoken here,only titles known to each other.The First Anonymous slammed his fist on the table, the sound reverberating through the hollow room.“Unbelievable. We buried him. We had every assurance that Ven was gone, just to appear seven days later, walked into the shareholders’ meeting like some ghost and takes everything we built. We were this close to owning the Empire outright.”His anger echoed what they all felt. For years, they had pulled strings in the shadows,installing proxies like Kate, manipulating Reynolds, and finally, grooming Davis to ascend to the chairmanship. Every move was calculated, every rival neutralized

The walls of Davis Brown’s office seemed to close in on him as he sat hunched in the chair behind his desk. The room was silent save for the faint ticking of the antique clock on the wall, a clock he had once admired as a symbol of permanence and control. His recent mood has made even the smallest of things insignificant and annoying.He stared at the documents strewn across his table which were financial reports, voting tallies, projections he had been so confident about just days ago. His fingers tightened around the edge of one report until the paper crumpled beneath his grip. All of everything had come crashing down the moment Ven walked into that room alive.Alive.The word alone made bile rise in Davis’s throat.It was supposed to have been done. Ven had been dead and was confirmed.He had seen the reports, heard whispers that a burned car had been found, that Ven had been erased from the game permanently. The shadows had assured him, and the shadows never failed,or so he had th

Ven sat his posture composed but radiating an unspoken authority. Across from him stood Bryan and Daniella, their faces mirroring the same determination that simmered within him.On the desk lay a folder, open to reveal a single, hand-drawn symbol, an intricate, almost tribal-looking mark, twisted into a shape that resembled a serpent coiling around a dagger. Ven had sketched it himself from memory, the mark that had been on the hands of those who attacked him.He tapped the paper lightly with one finger. "This, he said quietly, is the mark I saw on the assassins’ hands before they threw me into that river. They didn’t speak a word, but this tells me everything I need to know,that they’re organized and trained. Not just some hired thugs."Daniella leaned forward, studying the symbol intently. Her sharp eyes narrowed. "It looks… ceremonial. Like something belonging to an old order or a secret society. I’ve seen similar marks in documents related to underground mercenary networks."Bry

The morning air in Victory Brown’s estate was still and heavy, almost as if the world itself had paused to listen. Victory was in his private study, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand despite the early hour. He had barely slept, haunted by the gnawing sense that things were unraveling faster than he could contain. He had thought killing Ven would solve everything, but the boy's miraculous survival and stunning takeover of the company had left him reeling.A sharp knock at the door broke his thoughts.“Come in,” he said curtly.His butler entered, looking pale. “Sir… there’s a group of police officers outside. They’re insisting on seeing you. They have a warrant.”Victory straightened in his chair, the glass of whiskey freezing midway to his lips. “Police? What for?”The butler swallowed. “They didn’t say, sir. Only that you must come with them immediately.”Before Victory could respond, the door to the study opened wider, and three uniformed officers stepped in, followed by a ta

The door to Ven’s office opened with a quiet click, but the man who entered carried none of that subtlety. Davis strode in with an air of arrogance, his tailored suit crisp, his head held high despite the storm raging around his life and reputation. His eyes, however, betrayed the simmering fury combating his mind,like a man whose pride had been dragged through mud but still refused to bow.Ven sat behind his desk, calm as ever, his fingers interlaced on the polished surface. He didn’t bother to stand.''Davis,''Ven said flatly. “To what do I owe this visit? I thought you’d be busy...oh, perhaps preparing for court?”Davis’s jaw tightened at the jab. “Save your sarcasm, he hissed, walking closer. I didn’t come here for idle talk. I came to tell you something face-to-face. I know you’re behind this. Every single piece of trash that’s being thrown at me and Victory. The prosecution, the police raids,it all reeks of you.”Ven’s expression remained Unbothered. "Good. At least you’re not