Chapter 398: The Face of Peace The war had ended in blood. But now, the world demanded something far harder— Peace. A week after the last cult strike was extinguished, the skies over Geneva cleared as if in recognition of what was coming. At the edge of the Swiss alps, hidden behind a fortress of diplomatic immunity and encrypted invitations, stood the Iron Summit—a private, once-in-a-decade gathering of the world’s most powerful. This wasn’t a publicized G8 or a celebrity-attended Davos. This was different. No cameras. No broadcasts. Only sovereigns, billionaires, secret monarchs, and war-shaping financiers from across the continents—brought together to ensure the balance of the world economy and its shadow counterpart. And seated at the highest table of them all, wearing a deep gray Nehru jacket with the golden emblem of the Sovereign Flame embroidered at his collar, was Chris Brown. The youngest. The newest. The man who had risen from ash and defied every prediction.

Chapter 401: The Memorial The next morning arrived not with power but peace. The city woke beneath a clear sky, the kind that seemed to pause even the most stubborn noise. Birds drifted past high-rises, the streets were unusually calm, and in a quiet corner of Manhattan’s oldest cemetery, rows of black cars lined the road. Today wasn’t about a product launch. Not a press conference. Not a hostile takeover. Today was remembrance. Chris Brown stood at the center of the newly renovated section of the Greenstone Cemetery—where, until recently, his parents had lain in obscurity. Now, the place gleamed with tranquil dignity. Fresh grass rolled over every step. Marble stones were polished and repositioned in neat symmetry. Cherry blossom trees had been planted on either side of a pristine walkway. A new statue stood at the very front—tall, noble, carved with care. It was her. Nanny Grace. The matriarch of the forgotten. The fire behind the man. She stood carved in smooth gray s

Chapter 399: The Rebirth of the Empire The summit had ended, but the world was only just beginning to realize what had truly shifted. Peace had been signed, not with military treaties or empty promises but with one man’s name inked across a document that rewrote the rules of power. And now? Chris Brown returned home. Not as a fugitive from his past. Not as a shadow survivor. But as the architect of a new era. The first sunrise back in Manhattan felt different. MTD Headquarters, once surrounded by press vans and speculation, now stood like a monument of certainty—untouched by noise, crowned with global trust. Inside the topmost office, Chris stood before the glass wall that overlooked the city. The same city that once ignored him. That laughed when he walked in shadows, called him useless, and spat him out of every high-powered room. Now? They waited outside those rooms to catch a glimpse of him. And it wasn’t just MTD anymore. Within 72 hours of his retur

Chapter 404: Sandra’s Spinoff Begins The golden afternoon sun poured through the vast glass windows of the MTD Headquarters boardroom, casting long streaks of light across the polished marble table. Outside, the world was changing just as it had inside this very company, over the last few months. Chris had officially stepped back. Connor was adjusting to his role as CEO. A new era had dawned. And now… Sandra was ready for hers. She stood at the large conference table, her reflection barely flickering in the glass beneath her fingertips. Across from her sat Stephany Brown—poised, radiant, and quiet. There was no one else in the room. This was long overdue. Sandra drew in a breath. “You came.” Stephany gave a soft nod. “You said it was important.” A pause settled between them—full of memories, questions, wounds. Sandra turned slightly, hands clasped in front of her. Her voice was low but clear. “I wanted to say something before I made it public. Before I stepped out.” Stephan

Chapter 406: Epilogue – From Ashes to Empire The book was leather-bound. Simple. Elegant. A matte black finish with no title printed on the cover—just a single gold-embossed phoenix rising from flame. Inside, the first page read: From Ashes to Empire: The Rise of Chris Brown Written by the Man Himself’ Chris Brown sat alone in his new home library, a vast hall of walnut shelves and velvet drapes. Outside, the sun was setting across the private estate he had built far away from the noise of the city one where the air smelled like peace and the walls echoed with laughter, not battle. His son was asleep in the nursery. Stephany was in the garden with Eleanor and Sandra, laughing about something, her voice as gentle as wind chimes in spring. The Empire had finally exhaled. And now, so could he. He turned the pages of the manuscript slowly, each chapter a memory, each word a scar turned story. He read his own handwriting, the final chapter beginning with: “They thought I was n