He didn’t even hear the security guard well. His head was spinning, filled with questions. With a heavy heart, he turned away from the mighty gate of the mansion.Scott wasn’t going to just sit around at the gate waiting for Laura to explain.His head was spinning with thoughts. He couldn’t conclude yet, not when he had no proof of anything. He was still thinking they might be a mistake.All of a sudden, his mind jumped to the one thing that had once meant everything to him. The company he built wit his own hands. “I need answers,” he said, clenching his teeth.Without thinking twice, Scott started walking faster. His hand clenched into a tight fist. The big house he had just left behind was now far in the background. He needed answers. And the only place that might have them was his company.As he neared the tall, glass structure, Scott’s heart began to race, not from excitement, but from dread. He slowed as he approached, his eyes scanning the entrance, searching for some sign of

He had taken enough. And now, he was ready to take everything back. He was out of the company already and walking away from it aimlessly, thinking about returning to the mansion where he was told Laura now lived.But just as he reached the pavement, a voice called out behind him. He recognized the voice so well that he ha’d to turn immediately. “Boss! Boss, wait!”Scott faced him. It was Mr. Evans, the aging accountant with his grey hair and hurried steps, was rushing out the front doors of the company, breathing heavily. His tie fluttered with the wind as he caught up to Scott.“I’m taking a huge risk by meeting up with you outside here. I might even sacked if caught by the manager. But…” he said halfway, and then he brought out a piece of paper. “Sir,” he said, panting. “There’s something else. Something important that you need to know but I couldn’t tell you in there.”Scott narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”Evans glanced around nervously, like he was afraid someone might be liste

Scott stood outside the front gate, his jaw slowly tightening. His eyes were cold. He had waited long enough. Watching his former home, his former wife, and the man who stole everything from him had pushed his patience to the edge.It was time to have a conversation that was long overdue.He stepped forward, pushing the gate open with a slow, steady hand. No one stopped him. Not even the security guards.He reached the front door and rang the bell.For a few seconds, there was silence. Then suddenly, the door creaked open.And there she was finally, his wife, Laura standing in front of him.She stood tall in the entryway, wearing a silky red dress that hugged her figure, gold jewelry that was screaming wealth. Her hair was pinned up neatly, her makeup was flawless. She looked even more beautiful than he remembered.But it wasn’t her appearance that struck him.It wos the way her expression changed when she saw him. Her eyes darkened instantly as if she had seen the worse person on ear

Scott stood unmoving, watching as the uniformed men disappeared beyond the gate, not a single one daring to look back. Their retreat wasn’t casual, it was deliberate and filled with fear. “We really made a mistake coming here,” one of the soldiers said as they disappeared into the distance. The same men Gale had summoned with over confidence were now scattering like leaves in the wind. “Something is not right here. What just happened?” Laura murmured into Gale’s ears, but Gale himself was too shocked to say a word. Scott slowly turned back to face Laura and Gale. Their faces were stunned—just for a second. Just long enough to show they’d noticed something they couldn’t explain. But their pride was powerful enough to mask it almost immediately. Gale blinked and forced a crooked, dry laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Heh… Typical. Soldiers these days—soft as butter. They Probably thought you’d cry if they raised their voice, that was why they had pity on you.” Laura, quick t

THE EXECUTIVE HOUSE Scott stood at the massive iron-gated entrance of the Executive House, the weight of a thousand assumptions pressing down on him from the armed guards flanking the doorway. Inside, the presidential dinner was minutes from starting. The soft echo of music and clinking glasses was already drifting through the hallway.But outside, Scott remained still—calm—his shoulders squared, his jaw locked.And blocked.“Sir, we’ve told you already,” one of the guards said, stepping forward with visible irritation. “This is a closed event. Invite only. No strays.”Another guard scoffed, arms folded across his chest. “You’ve got some nerve even standing here, looking like that. What, did you mistake this place for a soup kitchen?”Scott opened his mouth to speak, but the first guard cut him off with a laugh. “Listen, you’re lucky we haven’t thrown you into holding. If you weren’t looking like you hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks, I’d swear you were here to rob someone.”The thi