Brent stared at the email on his screen. It was from Sarah's lawyer – her third one this month. The first two had quit when they realized who they were up against."Dear Mr. Walker,My client, Ms. Chen, would like to propose a settlement. She is willing to make a public apology and—"Delete!He didn't need to read the rest. Sarah still didn't get it. She thought this was about money. About business. About something that could be fixed with lawyers and PR statements.His phone buzzed. A text from his security team: "Ms. Chen's father is in the lobby. He looks drunk.""Send me the video feed," Brent texted back.The lobby camera showed Robert Chen swaying in front of the security desk. His expensive suit was wrinkled. His face was red. He kept jabbing his finger at the security guard, probably telling him about how important the Chen family used to be.Used to be. That was the key phrase."Let him up," Brent told security. "But take his time. Make him wait twenty minutes first. Like he

The morning headlines screamed across every major business publication: "CHEN FAMILY SCANDAL DEEPENS: FBI LAUNCHES CRIMINAL INVESTIGATION" "FORMER EMPLOYEES COME FORWARD WITH SHOCKING ALLEGATIONS" "WALKER INTERNATIONAL OFFERS LIFELINE TO CHEN VICTIMS" Brent sipped his coffee – real Italian espresso, not the watered-down stuff Sarah used to make him fetch – as he scrolled through the coverage. Each article was more damning than the last. The Wall Street Journal had three pages on Robert's offshore accounts. Bloomberg was running an exposé on Sarah's history of workplace abuse. His intercom buzzed. "Sir?" James sounded unusually hesitant. "Lucy Chen is here." Brent set down his cup. Lucy. Sarah's younger sister. The quiet one who'd watched from the shadows while her family destroyed lives. "Send her in." Lucy looked nothing like the polished socialite she'd been two months ago. Her designer clothes had been replaced by department store basics. Her perfectly maintained

The headline in the Financial Times caught Brent's eye: "CHEN TRIAL SET TO BEGIN: FORMER BILLIONAIRE FAMILY FACES FEDERAL CHARGES" Below it was a photo of Sarah being led into court, designer clothes replaced by something that looked suspiciously like Target. Her face was thinner, the arrogance replaced by something harder. More dangerous. "Sir?" James entered with the morning briefing. "There's been a development." Brent looked up from the paper. "Sarah?" "No. Robert." James placed a tablet on the desk. "He checked himself out of rehab last night. Our sources say he made some interesting calls before he left." "To whom?" "Victor Lang." Brent's fingers tightened on his coffee cup. Victor Lang. The shadow player. The man who'd helped Robert Chen build his empire through methods no one discussed in polite company. "What else?" "Lang's private jet landed in New York three hours ago." James pulled up surveillance photos. "He went straight to meet with Sarah's new lawye

The courtroom fell silent as Tommy Chen took the stand. Three months into the trial, and this was the moment everyone had been waiting for. The cousin who'd lost everything. The man whose fake death had exposed Robert Chen's final desperate gambit. Sarah sat between her lawyers, thinner now, the prison diet stripping away her former softness. Robert slouched beside her, the rehab tan already fading to prison pale. In the back, Victor Lang's empty seat spoke volumes about plea deals and turned witnesses. Brent watched from his usual spot, third row, center. Close enough to see every twitch, every tell, every moment the Chen family's facade cracked a little more. "Please state your name for the record," the prosecutor began. "Thomas Chen." Tommy's voice was steady. Stronger than anyone expected. "Former Chief Financial Officer of Chen Industries' Asia Division." "And your relationship to the defendants?" "Sarah Chen is my cousin. Robert Chen is my uncle." Tommy's eyes neve

The first Monday after the verdict dawned cold and gray. New York’s skyline was barely visible through the early autumn fog. Brent Walker stood at the window of his new office—Chen Industries’ old executive suite, now stripped of its marble, its ostentation. The gold-framed portrait of Robert Chen had been taken down, replaced by a single photo: a group of Walker International’s oldest employees, laughing together at last year’s holiday party. It was the only decoration Brent needed. He watched the city wake up. Delivery vans splashed through puddles, cabs honked aimlessly, and somewhere below, an early-morning dog walker was cursing at a reluctant golden retriever. The world, it turned out, moved on quickly, no matter how big a titan fell. A gentle knock at the door. James, of course—never late, never intrusive. “Tommy and Lucy are here. The first Phoenix Foundation team meeting is in the third floor conference room.” Brent nodded, slipping into his suit jacket. “How’s Lucy hol