Jim's eyes, sharp and grey like tempered steel, flicked to Felix. “You said it was urgent,” he said. Felix said nothing at first. Instead, he extended a hand to the bodyguard beside him, who handed over a sleek black phone. With a swipe of his thumb, Felix opened the gallery and pulled up a photo. Without a word, he tilted the screen toward Jim. Jim froze mid-breath. Tiger lay half-conscious, bloodied, with one eye swollen shut, his shirt torn, and bruises painting his body like abstract art. His arms seemed barely able to hold himself up in the frame. There was a trail of dried blood from his nose to his jaw, and his lip hung split. The photo wasn’t just humiliating. It was devastating. Jim stared. His fist clenched, the leather of his gloves creaking with the tension in his fingers. His eyes rose slowly to Felix, and there was fire in them now—controlled, but raging beneath the surface. “Who did this?” Jim demanded, his voice low and deadly. Felix didn’t f

The call crackled in Antonio’s ear, but the voice on the other end was calm and composed.“Sir, don’t worry. The fire service arrived moments ago and are already containing the situation. There’s some damage, but it’s under control.”Despite the reassurance, Antonio’s expression shifted, his jaw tightening and his eyes darkening. What caused the fire?Cynthia, sitting nearby with her mother beside Matilda’s hospital bed, noticed his sudden change in demeanor. Her eyes narrowed, and she stood.“Antonio… What’s wrong?” she asked quickly, approaching him.“My house—someone set it on fire.” Antonio replied calmly, putting the phone in his pocket.“What?” Cynthia gasped. “Oh, my God! Are you serious? Are you okay? Was anyone inside?”“No one was harmed,” Antonio replied, his tone cold and clipped. “But part of the house was already gone before the fire trucks got there.”Cynthia clenched her fists, the color draining from her face. “This can’t be random. It has to be Tiger and his people.

He stood frozen, the phone still clutched in his hand as the call ended. His assistant’s voice echoed in his mind: "They’re planning to sell off Bravura’s headquarters, satellite offices, and several company properties to recover their funds." The words hit like a sledgehammer. Bravura Consortium, his empire, was collapsing! The towers, the offshore accounts, the luxurious lifestyle—it was all slipping through his fingers like dry sand. Even the house he currently stood in—the grand estate he had just boasted about to Elaine—was registered as one of the company’s assets. If he didn’t act fast, he’d lose everything! Panic clawed at his chest, but Harry knew better than to show weakness. Not in front of Elaine. He tucked the phone into his pocket, turned around with a forced smile, and casually walked toward the marble countertop, pretending to inspect a bottle of wine. Elaine, who had been admiring a crystal sculpture in the living room, turned to him, when she noticed

Almost immediately, he noticed a smear of blood near the zipper, partially soaked into the fabric. His pulse quickened. This was just a sign that something terrible had happened. “Cynthia…” he murmured, his voice barely audible. More than just instinct told him things had gone terribly wrong. The bracelet on his wrist—glowing faintly beneath his sleeve—began to pulse with light, and a wave of intense emotion surged through him, flooding his chest like molten lead. The connection between him and the bracelet had deepened since the time he had it worn. He didn’t know how, but it was no longer just an ancient relic. It had become a part of him—fused to his essence. And now, through it, Antonio saw everything. His vision clouded over, then burst open like a lens of light. He was no longer standing at the roadside in Erelvain District—he was watching, through the eyes of something greater. Cynthia had just left the grocery store, humming softly, a small bag of s

"Faster!"The guard, already speeding beyond what was allowed, nodded grimly and pushed the accelerator harder. The engine roared, tires screamed against the pavement, and the car surged forward like a bullet on fire. Sweat beaded on Antonio’s forehead. He couldn’t sit still. His mind kept spiraling back to Cynthia—the thought of losing her was unbearable.If she died, it would be on him. He would never forgive himself.They were just a few kilometers away from the outskirts of Hender town. Suddenly, a commotion erupted ahead on the road. A vehicle had overturned in the middle of the intersection—a delivery van, now lying sideways, blocking half the road. Screaming bystanders fled, and smoke hissed from the van’s crumpled hood. Traffic wardens, already on-site, began waving frantically, halting vehicles in both directions.Antonio leaned out the window. “What the hell is going on?!”A warden shouted back, “Clearance in progress! Please hold—”“Damn it!” Antonio slammed a fis