Henry Dupont’s voice cut through the room like the crack of a whip.“Raymond, don’t get ahead of yourself. If you want my father’s backing, there are two conditions. First, provide the miracle pill in a steady supply. Second, prove your loyalty—beyond a shadow of doubt. Understood?”Raymond nodded, swallowing his annoyance. “I understand, Mr. Dupont.”He needed the support of Chicago’s Dupont family— one of the five ruling powers operating under the Chicago Lords banner—to solidify his position.If the Kingstons destroyed themselves in Vancouver, the Duponts might just help him take it over.Before either man could speak again, a crash and frantic yells erupted from the garden.“What’s going on?” Raymond snapped, eyes narrowing.A bodyguard stumbled into the room, his face ashen. “Boss—someone’s broken in!”Raymond rose from his chair in a surge of rage. “Who is it? How many?”“We couldn’t get a good look. It’s too dark... but he’s alone,” the guard stammered. “We tried to stop him, b

Henry stood tall, even though his knees were practically quivering under Alex’s gaze.Pride wouldn’t let him back down. After all, if he caved now, he’d never live it down.“Kill me? Seriously, pal? What, you think you’re some hotshot assassin?” Henry spat, his chest heaving.“Let me tell you something: You so much as graze me the wrong way, and your body’s gonna be nothing but confetti.”Alex cocked an eyebrow, then smacked Henry in the back of the head hard enough to make him stagger.The force felt like a semi-truck plowing through Henry’s skull.“Confetti, huh?” Alex sneered, stepping closer.“I just about rattled your brain, and guess what? I’m still breathing. Look, you threatened my family, so everything’s fair game now. Ready to die? I can make that happen—no problem.”Henry stumbled, heart pounding.He could practically taste death in the air, and it was nothing like his empty bluster.Dropping to his knees, he swallowed his shame as if it were a knife scraping down his throa

An hour later, Alex and Jasmine strolled through the grand double doors of Kingston Mansion as if it were a casual Sunday jaunt.At the center of the lavish sitting room sat Charles, flanked by Jessica (Jasmine’s mother) and an elegant old man with a posture so rigid it might crack.The old man’s eyes roved over everything with quiet calculation.Jasmine’s heartbeat thudded in her ears, but she managed a cold smile. “Mother, you summoned me. Spill.”Jessica’s expression was as frosty as the marble floors beneath them. “I want no family drama right now—only professionalism. Can you do that, Jasmine?”Jasmine turned to Charles and raised an eyebrow. “I assume you have some brilliance to share, big brother?”Charles steepled his fingers in theatrical calm, but his tone snapped like a whip.“Let’s skip the niceties. You and I both own shares of Kingston Pharmaceuticals, but the bulk belongs to Mother’s side of the family. They’ve appointed me to evaluate your… performance.” His smugness d

Charles slammed his palms on the gleaming marble table so hard that everyone in the room flinched.He fixed Alex with a scornful glare, lips twisted into a sneer that practically reeked of condescension.“Cut the crap!” he thundered, his tone rolling through the air like distant thunder.“Don’t you dare compare your lowly peasant life to mine. Seriously, take a good look at yourself in the mirror—if you can stand the sight.”Alex leaned back against his chair, crossing his arms with the kind of ease that only comes from complete self-confidence.“You always this full of hot air, Charles? If you’re too much of a coward to accept my challenge, just get on your knees, admit you’re a spineless poser, and apologize with one of your arms. Maybe I’ll find it in my heart to forgive your sorry behind.”Charles’s face went red as a brick, anger roaring inside him.“You—” he sputtered, seething so hard he could barely spit the words out.For a moment, he seemed torn.As the wealthy heir to the K

“Neisseria meningitidis.”“What the hell is that, a spell from Harry Potter?” Charles snapped, his voice already tinged with panic.Mr. Fleming adjusted his glasses with that smug little twitch of his lips.“It’s a bacteria, Charles. A nasty little bastard that sets your brain and spine on fire. Meningitis. Blood infection. Seizures. Hallucinations. You name it—it’s a party in your skull.”“Oh, delightful,” Charles groaned, clutching his neck. “My brain feels like it’s being skewered by hot forks already.”“Classic early symptoms: fever, neck stiffness, nausea, photophobia, altered mental state…” Fleming rattled it off like he was reading a damn shopping list, but there was a flicker of fear underneath his calm.Alex sipped his tea, legs crossed like he was watching a comedy show. “Wow. Bravo, Professor Pathogen. Remind me to nominate you for a Nobel Prize in stating the obvious.”Fleming shot him a glare, but Alex didn’t even flinch. “But it's funny, isn’t it? So close, yet you still