One young researcher snorted, struggling to contain himself. “Maybe he’s here to sell us herbs and holy water this time,” someone else muttered, prompting another round of muffled chuckles.Antonio said nothing, keeping his hands clasped behind his back.Liora’s brows furrowed slightly. “That’s enough,” she said sharply. But they didn’t stop. The rumors had taken root too deeply.A slender man near the back — probably in his late twenties — raised his voice over the commotion. “I saw that report myself! Florence Gales presented proof. This man here forged data and used paid actors to make his discoveries look real during that national science symposium. It was all a show. He’s not a scientist. He’s a performer.”The group murmured in agreement, nodding with smug certainty.Then, from one corner of the lab, a young woman spoke up. Her name badge read Dr. Miriam Jameson. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and said carefully, “Actually, that’s not true anymore.Floren

“You mean Antonio Morris came to your rescue?” He chuckled again, louder this time. “Elaine, you can’t be serious.” Rose frowned at him, startled. “Alder, what are you saying? She just made things clear." He waved his hand dismissively. “I’m saying this smells like one of Antonio’s tricks. You remember him, don’t you? Always desperate for attention, always scheming to make himself look like some kind of hero.” He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he paid those men to kidnap her, just so he could swoop in at the last second and play savior.” Elaine’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What?” she said, her voice rising slightly. “You think Antonio set all that up? You think he would do something like that to me?” Alder shrugged, unfazed by her tone. “I think it’s possible. Men like him — desperate, attention-seeking — they’ll do anything to stay relevant. And from what I know, Antonio’s been trying to get your attention ever si

Cynthia had not expected to return home that evening and find another woman standing in the middle of the living room—especially not Elaine.She froze for a split second near the doorway, her keys still dangling loosely from her fingers. For a moment, Cynthia thought she was seeing things, that fatigue from her trip had made her hallucinate. But then Elaine turned, meeting her gaze, and the shock of it all rushed through Cynthia like an electric current.“Elaine? What are you doing here?” she said with disbelief.Elaine straightened.“Why does it matter?” she snapped coldly. “This is between Antonio and me.”Cynthia’s brows arched slowly, and the faintest smirk played on her lips. “Between you and Antonio? That’s funny. Because the last time your family mentioned his name, they were calling him a murderer.”Elaine’s expression faltered.Cynthia stepped further into the room, her heels clicking deliberately against the marble floor. “If it hadn’t been for the CCTV footage that cleare

— “We’ll make sure Harry Gibson is apprehended, and everything he took from Green Deal Solutions will be restored,” the detective promised.She exhaled slowly, sinking into the chair. For so long, it had felt like the world was caving in on her. But this time, maybe things would finally turn around. “Thank you, Detective,” she whispered before ending the call. And for the first time that night, Elaine managed to smile faintly.Meanwhile, across the city, while Antonio sat on his mansion, his phone lay beside him, silent — until it suddenly vibrated.He frowned, picked it up, and pressed it to his ear.“Sir,” came a voice, breathless and strained. “It’s an emergency — Blackthorn’s acting violent again in the cell where he's been kept.”Antonio straightened immediately. “What do you mean violent?”“The guards just reported it. His cell’s almost wrecked. He’s throwing everything he can get his hands on, hitting the walls, shouting. And sir—”“What?” Antonio snapped.“The room’s on

Seeing the group of heavily armed men standing in the darkness beyond. Navarro whispered, raising his gun.“Who the hell are these?” Their faces were masked with their bodies covered in black tactical armor.One of Antonio’s men answered in a shaky voice, “Boss… they’re from the Northern Syndicate. The ones who call themselves The Iron Wolves.”Antonio’s jaw clenched. The Iron Wolves—an underworld faction feared for their brutality, known to deal in weapons, drugs, and high-profile assassinations. They were far more dangerous than Blackthorn’s men. And if they were here, then it meant one thing: Blackthorn had called them in.“Blackthorn!” Antonio shouted into the hole. His voice echoed into the night. “Show yourself!”A mocking laugh echoed back. Then a familiar voice answered—a dark, gleeful snarl.“You locked me in a cage! Did you think I wouldn’t find a way out?”And then, out of the shadows, Blackthorn appeared. His massive figure filled the broken wall, his hair wild, eyes gl