The general was hyperventilating, clutching the edge of the table for support. "Barry Sullivan?" he stammered, his face ashen. "The Barry Sullivan? But that's impossible!""A lot of people say that," Barry replied, his hands casually in his pockets. "My name is a myth in the business world. Not many have met me in person or know what I look like outside of a few grainy media photos. In reality, I'm your average middle-aged man."Bernard Griffin finally found his voice. "Mr. Sullivan, I... I apologize. I would never have caused you any trouble had I known who you were. This is all a terrible misunderstanding!"Veronica's eyes narrowed. "If you had known?" she repeated, her voice sharp with disgust. "So you only show restraint when you know someone is powerful? That means you've probably hurt, or worse, killed people on this island who were powerless to stop you."Bernard swallowed hard, unable to meet her gaze. "I... I haven't killed anyone," he lied weakly. "But I have disciplined peo

Ken froze in the doorway, dumbfounded as he stared at the humiliating sight before him.He spun his head toward Barry and Veronica. He had spent the entire evening treating this couple like trash.How is his father kneeling on the floor with his forehead pressed against the tiles like a servant begging a master at them?“Ah, Ken,” Barry said, flashing a smile at him. “How nice of you to join us. I was just thinking about you.”Ken stomped forward, pushing past a trembling servant.“What the hell is this?” he barked at his father. “Why are you bowing before this bastard? What has he done to you?!”Bernard stiffened at his son calling Barry a bastard. "Son, watch your mouth. Don't insult our guest."Ken reared his head back in confusion."Our guest?" He then jabbed a finger aggressively toward Barry. “What the hell did you do to my father?!”Barry raised an eyebrow. “Still arrogant as ever, I see.”Bernard’s entire body shook. He forced himself to look up, tears clinging to the edges of

It was a stormy night in the Sullivan mansion. Lightning flashed through the master's bedroom curtains, followed by a deep, rattling thunderclap that made the windows tremble. Barry lay on the bed, right next to Veronica, but unlike his wife who was sleeping peacefully, Barry was restless in his sleep.His breath came in short, ragged hitches. A muscle in his jaw ticked, and his fingers twitched against the sheets.Sweat gathered along his temples, sliding down to his neck. He was having a nightmare—a nightmare that made his whole body tense.In the dream, Barry found himself standing before the gates of Sullivan Group's headquarters.But much to his surprise, the gates were shut with thick industrial chains. A heavy padlock was used to seal the company from ever opening.Barry took a step closer, his mind racing with numerous questions. "This makes no sense," he thought aloud. "These gates hadn’t closed since I founded this company. Not even during natural disasters. What the hell

On a beautiful Tuesday morning, the world was choking on the news that shook the planet to it's core. Headlines screamed from every screen: Barry Sullivan—the world’s most powerful and wealthiest man—was now broke.The news was everywhere. It dominated every corner of the Internet. Every major media channel aired emergency broadcasts. Every newspaper in every country ran the same story on their front page.“SULLIVAN EMPIRE COLLAPSES!”“WORLD’S RICHEST MAN GOES BANKRUPT OVERNIGHT!”“GLOBAL MARKETS IN PANIC AS SULLIVAN GROUP CRUMBLES!”People were confused and investors panicked. Millions questioned how a titan like Barry could fall so fast.But behind the scenes, the story was entirely different.Veronica Sullivan, who had managed Sullivan's banking structures, executed a series of transfers to hide Barry’s wealth under layers upon layers of secret accounts.Barry's sister, Snow, president of Sullivan Productions, quietly froze projects and locked away the company’s most valuable as

Two days after, Mark Newton stepped out of a black SUV in front of a cheap city hotel.Barry had hand-picked this specific hotel for their meeting.Mark paused at the entrance, his nose wrinkling at the peeling signboard, the flickering lights, and the damp smell that seeped from the cracked walls.“This is where Barry Sullivan holds a negotiation?” he muttered with a smirk. “Pathetic.”He walked inside with a team of four lawyers, two financial strategists, and a security guard carrying a metal case. They looked wildly out of place in the rundown lobby.The shabby conference room they entered was the final insult.Mark's disgust deepened as he glanced around the room.The walls were stained, the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and a wobbly air-conditioner choked loudly in the corner.But what unsettled him most was the table.Only two people sat there. Barry Sullivan. And Veronica. There were no lawyers. No assistants. No guards. No accountants.Just them.Mark instinctively sen