Darian Kael’s presence seemed to pull the oxygen from the room. The cameras, still live, shifted away from the trembling Quentin and Malcolm to this new figure who carried himself with quiet confidence and a polished threat lingering in his tone. Javier stood his ground, his posture loose, his expression unchanged. But behind his eyes, calculations moved rapidly.Valeria’s gaze sharpened as she stood beside her husband, hand subtly curling around his wrist in silent warning. Heather, from her perch on the upper balcony, was already scanning through files on her tablet, trying to pull any accessible data on Darian Kael and the Syndicate.“I don’t recall seeing your name on the guest list,” Javier said mildly, his voice smooth as glass.Darian offered a tight smile, taking another few steps forward, his polished shoes clicking softly on the marble floor. “That’s because I don’t need an invitation to clean up a mess.”The crowd, previously gasping at the takedown of Quentin and Malcolm,

Javier didn’t move. His posture remained relaxed, hands resting at his sides, but his sharp gaze zeroed in on the figure at the ballroom entrance. The crowd, already rattled by the earlier spectacle, instinctively parted, creating a clear path from the door to where Javier stood.Valeria stepped closer to her husband, instinctively protective, her eyes narrowing. Heather’s voice buzzed in Javier’s earpiece. “Facial recognition coming in… unknown identity, but flagged with multiple cross-border travel logs under different aliases. High-priority watchlist.”The stranger walked with the ease of a predator who had nothing to fear. Dressed in a sleek black suit without a tie, his long coat swaying with every step, the man cut through the silence effortlessly. Several security personnel from the event began to approach, but with a simple lift of his hand, the man halted them in their tracks, his presence commanding enough to make them hesitate.Finally, he stood a few steps away from Javier

The ballroom began to settle, but the ripple effect of Orlen’s downfall was far from over. Javier remained where he stood, unfazed, while clusters of guests pretended to sip their champagne, casting sideways glances his way. The atmosphere shifted—some with newfound respect, others with palpable fear, and a select few… with growing resentment.Valeria squeezed his arm gently, her subtle gesture grounding him. But Javier’s attention had already shifted. From the corner of the ballroom, a sleek, well-dressed man approached, flanked by a group of smug executives—faces Javier recognized from prior board meetings, men who’d spent months opposing him, undermining his moves under the guise of ‘business competition.’At the front was Gregory Hale, the newly promoted regional director of one of Everhart Holdings’ su

Javier’s gaze sharpened, his fingers interlocking calmly on the polished table as Sable’s words settled like a thick fog over the room. The other board members exchanged quick, nervous glances—some clearly out of their depth, others eager to see Javier shaken. Valeria’s jaw clenched, but her spine remained straight, refusing to flinch under the weight of attention.Javier spoke, his tone flat but dangerously steady. “You are either bluffing, or you’re playing a reckless game, Sable.”Sable’s smirk didn’t falter. He moved closer, slow and deliberate, the sound of his shoes echoing in the suffocating silence. “You built your empire on precision, Everhart. On knowing every detail before anyone else does.” His smile widened. “And yet… you missed the biggest detail of all. Right under your own roof.”A faint murmur rippled around the boardroom.Gregory, emboldened by the diversion, found his voice again. “This is why you’re losing your edge, Javier. You’ve been blind—too distracted.”Valer

The chandelier above the grand lobby of Hotel Caravelle sparkled like crushed diamonds, its soft golden light casting a warm glow over the marble floors. Guests in tailored suits and glittering gowns milled about, sipping champagne, chatting, laughing—the wealthy elite in their natural habitat.Javier entered quietly.He wore a simple dark blazer, pressed slacks, and a muted gray shirt. His shoes were polished but lacked the designer insignia most guests flaunted. No cufflinks. No flashy watch. No entourage.Just him. Alone.He crossed the lobby to the concierge, pausing politely as two women draped in designer gowns finished speaking.“I don’t care what