The room grew tense, the air thick with disbelief and suspicion. Gary stood there, his posture steady despite the weight of their stares, his heart pounding but his face calm. “I got engaged in a car accident. I have been in the hospital for the past three days. But now, I am home.” Gary said, facing Madam Ann. “Well, you should have died, asshole.” Enrique blurted out. “And for your information, Evelyn is getting married to Kage soon, and now, we will be affiliated with the Howards. This is what true marriage is.” “I know, Enrique.” Gary said gently and ignored him, looking back at Madam Ann. “So, why did you return even after knowing that your wife is now with another man?” Madam Ann asked. “Kage told me what you did. The check was fake and our agreement still holds. So, I returned home to fulfil my duties.” Gary said gently. Madam Ann let out a gentle smile but quickly swallowed it. “Well, you’d better cause I would have followed you everywhere until you fulfill your p

“Hey, asshole!” Enrique echoed into the hallway as he flung from his seat. He approached Gary and grabbed him by the collar, his fingers digging into the worn fabric of Gary’s jacket like claws sinking into prey. Enrique’s face twisted with rage, his eyes burning with a mix of disbelief and disgust as he shoved Gary against the glass wall of the VIP lounge. The impact rattled the pane, a dull thud echoing through the sleek space, and a few workers nearby froze, their breaths held tight. Others simply did what an average person would do at first instinct, pull out their phones to record. “What the hell are you doing here, you filthy dog?” Enrique hissed, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the silence. “How did you even get past the gates? This isn’t a dump for trash like you!” Gary’s back pressed against the cold glass, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest, but his face stayed calm, his eyes steady as they met Enrique’s. He could feel the heat of Enrique’s breath

The lady’s tears intensified as soon as Tate’s voice rang in her ears. She quickly stood up, rushed towards Mr. Tate, and knelt, “Please, sir. I am terribly sorry. It’s not my fault at all sir. It was sir Enrique who…” “Silence!” Tate shut her up immediately. “You dare point a finger at someone else for your own mess? You were supposed to bring dessert for Lord Kevon and Devon about 30 minutes ago. You not only delayed but ended up breaking their dishes. I’ma gonna ask you, loser, do you know how much each of those ceramics cost?” There was silence on Aubrey’s end. “Of course you do not. It is worth 250 thousand dollars, more money than you will ever see in your miserable life. How much are you being paid monthly?” Tate asked again. And again, a brief silence from Aubrey, followed by sobs and sniffing of her nose. She was losing it. She had seen the power of the Sun brothers. Not directly, but through Mr. Tate. He was a ruthless demon and had no trace of empathy in his dejected

Tate spun around, his rage faltering, replaced by a flicker of fear. “My lords,” he stammered, bowing his head slightly, “this… this filth dared to touch me! He’s a nobody, a street dog named Gary Wang, and he—” “Gary Wang?” Devon interrupted, his tone sharp, his eyes narrowing as they landed on Gary. The room fell deathly silent, the staff holding their breath, their whispers dying in their throats. “Yes, Master, Gary Wang is his name. He is a nobody and a sore loser. I do not know how he managed to get into this building, but this disgrace of a human tried is causing a havoc in this firm. He does not know his place and I am about to show it to him.” The Sun brothers were calm and quiet, as always. They said nothing, but watched the scene, trying to decode what had happened. And then, their eyes stumbled on it, their plates. Their Cremale’ Piot ceramic dishes shattered on the floor. Kevon’s eyes shot red, but he immediately shrugged it off. In all their years of being the most

Enrique drove his car into the mansion. He should be jumping, smiling, and feeling elated. He should be running towards his home to spread the good news to his mother and the entire Lacanters, not walking with his head slumped and falling below his shoulders. But what would have been a news had turned into the worst miserable news he would probably ever spew from his trap. And in place of a file including transfer of position from Harrison Wolfe, it contained a single sheet of paper, crumpled at the edges, with the Sun Group’s letterhead stamped at the top. The words on it burned into Enrique’s mind like a brand: “Termination of Contract – Effective Immediately.” The $17 million roofing deal, the only thing keeping the Lancasters in The Sun Group’s good graces, was gone. And it was his fault. Enrique’s hands shook as he gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white, his Porsche idling in the driveway of the Lancaster mansion. His $200,000 suit was a mess—tie loose, shirt untucked