Marcus leaned forward, his weathered hands clasped tightly together. The private lounge of the Ritz-Carlton cast a warm glow over his concerned features."Yemin, you need to understand what we're potentially dealing with here," Marcus said, his voice barely above a whisper despite their secluded corner. "Any organization capable of eliminating your mother—a woman with her skills and connections—and making it appear like a routine traffic accident... they're not adversaries to be taken lightly.""I don't care how powerful they are," Yemin replied, his eyes hardened with resolve. "They took my mother from me. They destroyed my family.""And they could destroy you just as easily." Marcus's fingers tapped nervously against his glass. "These people have operated in the shadows for decades, perhaps centuries. They've perfected the art of erasing problems without leaving evidence.""I'm not backing down, Marcus." The ring gleamed on Yemin's finger as he clenched his fist. "I won't rest until

Yemin's face remained impassive, though a muscle twitched in his jaw. How many times would he have to endure public humiliation in this city? First Katherine, then James, and now this woman. Yet, as always, he kept his composure, saying nothing to defend himself.Veronica pointed an accusing finger. "You can pretend all you want, but we all know what you really are—a con man who seduces rich women for their money and possessions!"Whispers rippled through the crowd as guests exchanged glances, many nodding in agreement despite Chairman Hargrove's earlier revelation."I want my ring back now, or there will be consequences," Veronica continued, her voice cutting through the murmurs.Faye, witnessing Yemin's stoic silence, felt a surge of protective anger. She hadn't been able to defend him when Katherine had humiliated him at the restaurant. This time would be different."That's enough," Faye said, stepping forward. Her voice was steady but charged with authority that surprised even her

The tension in the lobby was palpable as the circle of men tightened around Yemin. Their faces, flushed with alcohol and the promise of Veronica's "gratitude," showed nothing but contempt for the seemingly ordinary man before them.Yet despite being outnumbered, Yemin remained unnervingly calm. His eyes flicked between the men and Veronica, assessing the situation with calculated precision. The information this jewelry store owner possessed could be valuable—perhaps another piece in the puzzle of his mother's death and the mysterious organization connected to his family ring."Ms. Hartley," Yemin said evenly, ignoring the threatening postures around him. "I have a proposition for you.""Oh?" Veronica crossed her arms, her lip curling derisively. "What could a nobody like you possibly offer me?""Information for information," Yemin replied. "Tell me everything you know about this ring—its history, its significance, any records of its owners—and I'll give you half a million dollars."A

The black limousine pulled away from the curb, leaving Veronica Hartley standing alone on the sidewalk. Moments later, the crowd that had witnessed the extraordinary scene began to converge on her, their faces etched with curiosity and excitement."What was that all about?" a heavyset man demanded, pushing through the others. "Who was that guy?"Veronica's mind raced. Marcus's warning about keeping the conversation private echoed in her ears. She remembered the threat, the implied consequences of speaking about Yemin Morgan."Nothing important," she said with a forced laugh, trying to sound dismissive. "Just some rich woman inside the limo. That man—Yemin—he was just begging for money. Typical leech."The men exchanged knowing looks. "We knew it!" one of them exclaimed. "Probably lives off women's charity. Just look at those cheap clothes."Another chimed in, "Bet he's been running scams all over the city. Surprising he hasn't been arrested yet."Veronica nodded, playing into their na

The moment Yemin's foot hit the pavement outside the police station, his senses heightened. Years of training under the old man had sharpened his awareness to a razor's edge.The tall figure in the baseball cap across the street wasn't even trying to be subtle—a calculated move, not carelessness.This has to be connected to the organization that killed my mother, Yemin thought, maintaining his casual pace without so much as a glance in the watcher's direction.The jewelry store owner's death, now this surveillance... I'm getting closer to something they don't want me to find.Yemin pretended to check his phone, using the reflection to confirm the man was still watching. With deliberate casualness, he slipped the heirloom ring off his finger and into his pocket.If they were after information about the ring, he didn't want to make it easy for them.He raised his hand to flag down a passing taxi, his movements unhurried despite the prickling sensation between his shoulder blades."Where