The city had become Javier’s echo. Every street corner, every penthouse hall, every velvet-draped lounge carried his name in whispers. But while the socialites gossiped and the merchants trembled, his rivals gathered in secret, desperation tightening around them like a noose.At Evelyn Kincaid’s estate, the chandeliers glowed dimly above a private dining hall. Heavy curtains shut out the night, as if the very stars were spies. Evelyn sat at the head of the table, her sharp eyes surveying the men who had once been her rivals—and who now had no choice but to become her allies.Adrian sat stiffly to her right, his jaw clenched, his pride frayed. Across from him, Marcus Blackthorne leaned back casually in his chair, fingers tracing the rim of his glass, every movement predatory.“We all know why we’re here,” Evelyn said finally, her voice low, deliberate. “The city is suffocating under his shadow. Every headline, every whisper—it’s all him. Javier Everhart.”Adrian’s face twisted at the n

The alliance of Evelyn Kincaid, Adrian, and Marcus Blackthorne spread quickly in whispers through the city’s undercurrents. Rumors circulated of power shifting again, of titans pooling their strength to eclipse the man who had humiliated them all. For weeks, the streets buzzed with speculation: perhaps Javier Everhart had finally found his match.But Javier remained silent.No interviews. No statements. No sudden countermoves.He let the city tremble, let his enemies believe the illusion of their strength. Silence was his sharpest weapon. And silence always bred mistakes.The strike came on a cold Thursday morning.Valeria had barely left the breakfast table when Damian entered Javier’s study, his face grim. “They’ve moved.”Javier glanced up from the reports, his expression unreadable. “Explain.”“Three fronts,” Damian said quickly. “Adrian’s camp bribed two of your board directors—turning them into informants. Evelyn planted stories in the financial journals—claims of corruption, ta