The small box given by the prince contained a ring engraved with a black dragon emblem at its center. It was the royal crest. Anyone who saw that symbol would immediately know who it belonged to. Michael smiled confidently and crossed his right leg over his left. “I’m serious.” Of course, there was a deeper meaning behind the gift of the black dragon ring. It was meant to forge an alliance and gain more advantages than he had originally hoped for — and Blake understood that intention well. Blake looked at the man sitting across from him. “I might not bring you any results at all.” Blake didn’t want to make any promises to Michael. He didn’t want to promise profit or loss, because he didn’t want to create distance between them if Michael’s expectations didn’t align with what Blake could deliver. But Michael still looked confident. He leaned back in his chair, completely at ease. “I believe you're not just an ordinary man, and I’m confident you won’t disappoint me,” Michael raised

he women sneered. "Someone as ugly as you could never be Blake’s wife. You and Blake are like the ocean and a dirty flood—completely incompatible!" she added, receiving nods of agreement from the other women. "Amanda is right. Before claiming to be Blake’s wife, you should go buy a mirror and take a good look at yourself. Self-awareness is important. Or have you already lost your mind?" another woman mocked, scanning Amora from head to toe with a condescending gaze. "Maybe she’s an escaped mental patient," one of them said, eyes widening in a mix of shock and feigned fear. "Guys, should I call the asylum right now? We have to report her before she gets even crazier, right?" she continued in an exaggerated tone. Amora's young coconut became the target of the women’s anger. Meanwhile, Blake, who had been silently observing and listening to the cruel taunts, clenched his fists tightly, resisting the urge to step in. No—he wanted to see how Amora would handle the situation herself.

"Oh, how much are you willing to pay?" Marco furrowed his brow, looking somewhat intrigued by the offer. This immediately made Blake glance at him, but Marco was completely unfazed and remained calm. "We'll pay handsomely, perhaps a few million more than your current salary," Romeo smiled as he made the offer. "Think about it. Your salary is really low, isn't it? Probably no more than a million dollars." Jason nodded. "Yes, we can offer each of you 5 million dollars." Liana quickly glanced at her son. That was a large sum to give away just like that to the three police officers, but now was not the time to think about that. Romeo's freedom was the priority. Liana also nodded while clasping her hands in front of her chest. "Yes, we'll pay whatever it takes as long as you release my husband." The two officers behind Marco exchanged glances with each other. They were unsure if their leader would accept the offer or continue with their task. "How about it? Or maybe that's a small o

"What?" Zuri was utterly shocked. Her eyes widened, and her face changed instantly. "You're joking, right?" Alice shook her head and handed the jewelry box to Zuri. "No. These pieces of jewelry and gemstones are fake. The gold is just a thin outer layer. They may look expensive, but in reality, they’re worth very little." Zuri clenched her teeth, struggling to contain the fury boiling inside her. She couldn't believe all the jewelry was fake—and worse, that Blake had the audacity to give her such a cheap imitation. She abruptly stood up from her chair. "That damn broke bastard! I knew Blake could never afford real jewelry!" Alice tried to calm her down. "Zuri, please, relax." She raised her hands, trying to soothe her friend, not wanting to disturb the other customers in her store. "I was such a fool to think you could ever have a hundred million dollars. That useless son-in-law could never afford something this expensive. He tried to deceive me, damn it!" Zuri slammed the table

Betrand stood frozen in place. The confidence that once radiated from his face had vanished, replaced by a ghostly pallor. His eyes widened in disbelief as he listened to the news from his assistant over the phone. “The investors have pulled out of all partnerships after learning about the company's stock decline, sir,” his assistant's panicked voice echoed through the receiver. Betrand gripped his phone tightly, his knuckles turning white. Cold sweat trickled down his temple, his jaw clenched, and his throat tightened. He was in complete shock. “We tried to convince them to stay, but they’ve already given up,” the assistant continued, desperation creeping into his tone. “Even the banks are starting to reject our loan applications. If we don’t act fast, the company will go bankrupt!” Hearing those words, Betrand staggered backward, his head spinning. This couldn't be happening. His company had always been stable, its power in the business world unshakable. But now? Everything was