Upon hearing that Logan was probably the one behind all the negative events that were happening in their family, Sophia had gone silent for a long moment. The realization had not come like a shout, but like a slow, suffocating weight settling over her shoulders. Her luxury shop was about to be demolished. Marcus had been terminated from his job without explanation. Their daughter Charis remained in a fragile mental state, distant and vulnerable in ways that frightened her mother deeply. The once-unshakeable Collins family—respected, envied, and seemingly untouchable—was unraveling thread by thread.The silence that followed Marcus’ statement had stretched between them like a chasm. Sophia’s mind replayed the chain of events with painful clarity. The summons. Their refusal. The second summons. Their prideful dismissal. And now this—swift, calculated consequences that felt anything but coincidental.“Marcus,” she had said carefully that night, sitting across from him in their dimly lit

Along one side of the room stood a long wooden table where several framed photographs had been placed. Sophia’s gaze drifted toward them casually at first. But then one particular photograph caught her attention. It looked older than the rest. Curious, she leaned forward slightly in her chair and studied it more closely. The picture showed a much younger Logan—perhaps around fourteen or fifteen years old. His expression was calmer, less hardened than the man sitting across from her now. Standing beside him in the photograph was a woman. She had a warm, gentle smile and kind eyes that seemed full of quiet patience. For a moment, Sophia simply stared at the picture. Then her body suddenly stiffened. Her breath caught in her throat. “No…” she whispered faintly. Her eyes widened as disbelief spread across her face. That face. She knew that face. Even though many years had passed, there was no way she could forget it. The woman in the photograph was Lydia Vale. Logan’s moth

The moment Logan’s words landed, Sophia’s entire body tensed. Her face flushed crimson, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits as a surge of fury coursed through her. She could feel every muscle taut, every nerve alive with a fierce, uncontrollable heat. Trembling—not with fear, but with raw, incendiary anger—she pushed herself up from the chair and began pacing sharply in front of Logan’s desk, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor, each step punctuating her outrage. “You dare! You dare tell me that?” she spat, her voice echoing through the office with a venomous sharpness. “You dare sit there and act as if you are above me? Above my family? As if you hold the right to decide what becomes of us? Logan Brooks, do you think I will tolerate your arrogance? Do you think you are untouchable? You are nothing—nothing—without my family!” Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest flicker of amusement hidden behind the calm, calculating gaze. He didn’t flinch. He had faced

As soon as Sophia and Marcus left Logan’s office, the heavy tension that had filled the room seemed to lift, leaving the Iron Hand sitting alone in his chair. The faint sound of the office door clicking shut behind them resonated in the silence, almost like a signal that the confrontation was over—for now. Logan’s smirk stretched across his face, but it wasn’t the cruel, predatory grin of someone eager to strike. No, this was something subtler, far more satisfying. The fire and arrogance that Sophia had displayed, the reckless abandon of her rage, were enough to amuse him. He could have summoned one of his men to tail her, to remind her that crossing him came with consequences. A subtle warning, a reminder that she was nothing against the Iron Hand. But he didn’t need to intervene personally. That would be beneath him. Logan had long ago learned that people like Sophia—prideful, impulsive, and blinded by anger—often did more damage to themselves than anyone else could. Left to their o

Sophia Collins stood still for a moment after ending the call with her brother. The silence in her study felt heavy, but her mind was anything but calm. It burned with purpose, with vengeance, and now—with something even stronger—certainty. She had a direction and a plan. And most importantly, she had a secret powerful enough to shake the foundation of everything Logan Brooks had built. Her fingers tightened around her phone again. There was one more person who needed to know. One more piece she needed in place before everything could begin. Without hesitation, she dialed another number. The line rang longer this time. Once. Twice. Three times. Finally, it connected. “Yeah?” a young man’s voice answered, casual and slightly distracted. Sophia’s expression hardened immediately. “Jake,” she said sharply. On the other end of the line, Jake straightened slightly, recognizing his mother’s tone. “Mom?” he said, sounding mildly surprised. “What’s going on? You don’t usually call me t