“That suits him right,” Jalen muttered as he dropped his phone on the couch beside him.He exhaled slowly and sank deeper into the soft cushion. The room was dimly lit with the golden hue from the side lamp reflecting against the cream-coloured walls. It was almost quiet—too quiet, but for once, he was grateful for it. The weight on his shoulders had started to lift, even if only slightly.Jalen had just returned from the office, exhausted but satisfied. After his shower, he wore a plain black T-shirt and grey shorts, stretched out on the couch with a glass of warm lemon water by his side. Barrister Greg Mend had called not long ago to brief him on the latest update regarding Carlos Arturo’s case. The court proceedings were progressing favourably. Evidence against Carlos was solid. With his company’s criminal operations exposed and key documents already verified, conviction was almost inevitable.Now, for the first time in a long while, Jalen could breathe. His empire was safe, at

Jalen sat behind his desk, back straight, eyes fixed on the report he was reviewing, but his mind was far from what his eyes were scanning. The smooth click of the wall clock in the corner was the only sound that filled the room, aside from the low hum of the air conditioner. The office was quiet—too quiet for his thoughts. The silence gave room for something else… satisfaction.Yes, he did it. He made the call. Quietly. Strategically. Calculatedly. Mr. Okonta had been on the edge about the deal already, and all it took was one push. One call from Jalen to express his “concern” over Tiana’s reputation and the unresolved media mess surrounding her late husband’s criminal empire, and the man pulled out. The contract was taken from her. She never saw it coming. She thought they were working together. But Jalen wasn’t done with her, not yet.Not until the entire Brooks family—Tiana, Andrew, every last one of them, came crawling, begging for forgiveness. And even then, he wasn’t sure

Flashback: Before his escape....A full week had passed since Carlos was sentenced and placed in a high-security prison facility on the outskirts of the city. The walls were tall and grey, with armed guards stationed at all major points. The cells were dark, suffocating, and stripped of any luxury. The weight of twenty years behind bars was beginning to settle on Carlos like an iron shroud. But even within the suffocating silence of the prison, Carlos was not alone.He had already received three visits within the space of seven days. Not from lawyers or family members. But from two strange men, always dressed in black suits, with dragon-head tattoos curling on the side of their necks. Their presence was silent but commanding. They didn’t need to introduce themselves; Carlos already knew who they were.These were no ordinary men. They were part of the Dragon Syndicate, a powerful cartel that had long benefited from the illegal gold mining operations orchestrated by the late Fernand

In the heart of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, dimly lit by scattered industrial bulbs and heavy with the smell of fuel and damp cement, Carlos stood facing the cartel leaders. The air was tense, quiet but not calm. Around them, armed men—young, rugged, and wired with aggression, stood by, waiting for instructions like restless hounds.Remi Daron, known as Spine for his precision in breaking bones cleanly with bare hands, leaned against a broken desk, his tattooed neck glistening with sweat. "We have to hit him hard," he said, voice sharp and cold. "Right in the heart. We go for his mother and sister. That will cut him deep."The men around him nodded in agreement, the thought of breaking Jalen’s spirit feeding their hunger for blood. But one of them wasn’t on the same page.Gregor Miles, code-named Milo the Ox because of his size and brute strength, took a step forward. “No,” he said firmly. “That’s too far. From here to Baltimore? The police will intercept us

Aisha trembled where she hid, crouched behind a concrete beam in the underground parking lot, her breath caught halfway in her chest. The entire place was almost silent except for the faint hum of cars from the distance. Then, the distinct sound of tyres screeching slightly on the concrete floor echoed, and she peeked out carefully.A black car had pulled in swiftly.She saw the driver step out—tall, poised, familiar.Jalen.Without thinking, Aisha sprang to her feet and ran toward him."Jalen!" she cried out, her heels clicking rapidly on the floor.Jalen turned, eyes scanning quickly. The moment he saw her, he rushed forward too. They collided into each other’s arms, breathless and relieved. She clung to him, and he held her tightly like she might disappear again if he let go.“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing her hair back, his eyes scanning her face, her arms, her waist, every inch of her body as if to confirm she was whole.“I’m fine,” Aisha said, still catching her breath. “