***FLASHBACK*** ***Two months earlier—before the bone marrow transplant*** The rain poured down in heavy sheets as Ethan pulled his thin delivery jacket tighter around his shoulders, the cheap plastic bag containing clutched against his chest to keep it dry. The electric scooter he used for deliveries had broken down three blocks back, and he'd had no choice but to continue on foot. His shoes squelched with every step, his socks soaked through. But he kept moving. This was his last delivery for the night. After that, he’d head back to his tiny apartment, count the few money he’d made, and stress over how he was going to cover even a small part of Vanessa’s hospital bills. She’d been stuck there for weeks, going through endless tests after they found out she needed a bone marrow transplant. He saw her as his girlfriend—his responsibility—even though her parents could easily afford everything. "2487 Oakridge Drive," he muttered to himself, checking his phone again.

Mr. Hayes' brows arched. "I don't understand.""What do you mean?""You really don't know what you did to deserve it?" Ethan asked, his voice eerily calm.Mr. Hayes swallowed hard, nodding. "Yes. Tell me. I'm confused."Ethan leaned back, a cold smile playing on his lips. "It’s pretty simple, honestly. A species will always produce another of its own kind.”"What?" Mr. Hayes whispered, confusion etching deeper lines into his already worried face.Ethan let out a dry chuckle, no real amusement behind it. “Isn’t he just a reflection of you?”“Your son only did what he learned from you.” He motioned toward Mr. Hayes with an open hand."Your traits, your methods, your... disregard for those beneath you. The apple didn't fall far from the tree, did it?"Mr. Hayes' face flushed red. "That's—that's not true! I don't know where you heard such nonsense, but that's a big fat lie.""A big fat lie?" Ethan's eyebrows shot up as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Do you think I d

Mr. Hayes swallowed hard, his eyes briefly flicking to where Damian had gripped his hand tightly. Mr. Hayes quickly pulled his hand away, wincing as pain shot through his already bruised body.He took a step back, eyes narrowing at the son he no longer acknowledged, and masked his shock with a scoff."Do you think I'm joking when I say you have nothing to do with this family anymore?" He spat, his voice laced with contempt. "Or are you here to beg me to take you back? Finally realized you can't survive without the Hayes name, didn't you?"He circled Damian like a predator, despite his own injuries."I've heard all about your... adventures," he continued with a cruel smile. "Sleeping in cheap motels, borrowing money from people who once feared you. How the mighty have fallen, Damian."His lips curled in a smirk. "I heard you couldn't even keep that car you bought with your own money. Had to sell those fancy watches too, hmm? Tell me, how does it feel to be nothing?"To Mr. Hayes' su

On the phone screen was an email chain—one Mr. Hayes recognized all too well. His own words, in black and white, ordering the use of the cheaper chemical compound.And below it, attached files showing every falsified safety report, every bribe, every cover-up—all bearing his electronic signature.But what truly made his blood run cold was the recipient list at the top of the email: the entire board of directors, major shareholders, and—most damning of all—the federal regulatory committee's confidential tip line.The email had not been sent yet. It was still in draft form."Where did you get this?" he croaked, his earlier confidence evaporating like morning mist.Damian leaned back, a satisfied smile playing across his lips. His eyes never left his father's face, drinking in every flicker of panic that crossed those features."Take a guess,” Damian smirked, finally picking up his glass for the first time since the conversation began. He took a slow sip, his eyes still on the old man a

Vanessa’s heart raced as she sat in the cramped visitor’s area of the station where Jonathan was being held.The room was small, with plain concrete walls painted in a dull, washed-out beige. A metal table was bolted to the floor in the center with two uncomfortable chairs facing each other—one of which she was sitting on. A security camera watched from the corner.Her hands shook slightly as she kept checking the door where they would bring her father.When the door finally opened and the officer brought Jonathan in, she felt like someone had punched her in the chest."Dad!" she cried out, her voice breaking.He looked nothing like the powerful businessman everyone knew. His normally perfect hair was messy, and he hadn't shaved. Dark circles under his eyes showed how little he had slept. His hands were cuffed in front of him, and he walked with slumped shoulders.Seeing the man who seemed invincible her whole life now looking so defeated made tears fill her eyes.The officer left the