The room was awkwardly quiet, quiet enough that only the sound of Ryan’s finger typing comments on a post on the official Nova page sounded.Alicia sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes fixed on the purse beside her. Her mind was spinning with thoughts, calculating, analyzing, and planning. The tiny power wrapped in paper that was still tucked between inside her dress breast holder was beginning to feel uncomfortable.“Come on, Alicia!” she said to herself under her breath, low enough that Ryan didn’t hear her.“How long would it take you to to do this task, Alicia?” she whispered to herself again.She knew what she had to do. The problem wasn’t the act itself, but how to execute it without raising suspicion. Ryan was not like other men—he was careful, observant, and not easily swayed. If she made even one wrong move, he would sense it immediately.On the opposite bed, Ryan sat upright, his phone in his hand. The screen glowed softly against his face, but his eyes weren’t really focuse

Alicia couldn’t stop pacing across the small hotel room. She was nervous. Her hands were constantly rubbing together. Every few seconds, her eyes flickered toward the bed where Ryan lay, still and unconscious, his chest rising and falling faintly.She stopped for a moment and stared at him.“Please don’t wake up now,” she whispered to herself, her voice shaky. “Just… stay like that until this is all over.”Her heart wouldn’t stop racing. The silence of the room made everything worse. Every small noise — a creak, a footstep outside, a voice from the hallway — made her flinch. She was scared that someone might knock at any moment. What if hotel staff came in? What if someone asked for Ryan? What if someone had seen her tampering with the drinks earlier?She covered her face with her hands and muttered under her breath, “This was supposed to be quick. Just quick.”Her phone buzzed suddenly, and she jumped. She quickly picked it up, expecting it to be Martin, but it wasn’t. It was just

Immediately Martin got out from the elevator, his phone beeped, breaking the silence around him. He glanced down, and his brows furrowed slightly when he saw the message. It was from Dean — a short, direct text telling him to come to his office instead.A few minutes later, Martin pulled up in front of the towering skyscraper. He stepped out of his car and looked up at the tall skyscraper. It was late — almost midnight — and the streets were nearly empty.The night air brushed against his face as he straightened his coat and adjusted the documents in his hand. The files contained everything about the Orion Project, now officially under his name.Behind him, Alicia sat stiffly in the passenger seat, still unsure whether to get out. Her fingers gripped her bag tightly. She didn’t want to follow him, but part of her couldn’t leave — not when Martin hadn’t paid her for what she had done.Martin turned slightly and saw her still sitting there. His tone was calm, but there was firmness in i

Martin’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he sped through the quiet streets. His knuckles were white, his veins visible beneath his skin. His jaw was tight, his breathing harsh, and his heart pounded with fury.He couldn’t believe it. He refused to believe it.The ring had said Ryan Walker was the one who bought the company back. It didn’t make sense — it couldn’t be true. Ryan was supposed to be unconscious, drugged so heavily that he could barely lift a pen when he signed the documents. How could someone like that pull off a counterattack so fast?Martin slammed his palm against the steering wheel, his voice breaking through the silence of the night.“Damn it!” he shouted, his voice trembling with anger. “How could this happen? How could I have been fooled like that?”He could feel his chest tightening with rage and humiliation. The thought of Ryan outsmarting him — again — made his blood boil. But then his mind shifted. If he had lost 200 billion, then Alicia still had some

Martin finally arrived back at his penthouse apartment. The entire mansion was cloaked in darkness. His jaw twitched as he pushed open the main door with unnecessary force.It was way past midnight. Every staff member had retired hours ago. The silence that filled the house only deepened his rage — the kind of silence that reminded him of loss, defeat, and humiliation.He tossed his coat on the floor carelessly, ran a trembling hand through his hair, and clenched his teeth tightly. His reflection in the glass door stared back mockingly, as if even the image of himself was judging him for losing.Then, with a sudden growl of frustration, he turned and slammed his fist into the television screen.The impact cracked the glass instantly, splintering it like a spiderweb. His knuckles bled, but he didn’t seem to care. Instead, he glared at his reflection on the broken surface, his breathing heavy.“You think you’ve won, Ryan Walker,” he muttered under his breath, his voice shaking with rage