I almost laugh. “Imagine needing to kill half the board because nobody likes you. If only he’d invested in a personality instead of thugs.”The manager interrupts, voice trembling. “Michael, stocks are tanking again. Another wave of the video’s gone viral. It’s everywhere—Twitter, Reddit, YouTube. Influencers are making meme compilations.”I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Perfect. Now I’m a hashtag.”Sarah mutters, “Some of them are saying you faked the cancer for donations.”I shoot her a look sharp enough to cut. “And some are saying the moon is made of cheese. People are idiots, Sarah. That’s why they follow charlatans like Derek and your darling mother.”Her jaw trembles, but again—she stays. Guilt or love or stubbornness, who knows?Santiago glances out the window, then at me. “Ready for your statement?”“Been ready since the day Isaac tried to kill me,” I say. “Get the camera. I want them to see I’m not dead yet.”While the manager sets up his phone, Sarah sits beside me, silent.

After the police left, the manager rushed in, looking exhausted and worried. His tie was loose, and there were dark circles under his eyes."Mr. Shen! Thank God you're alive. What happened?"Mr. Shen turned to his wife. "Dear, I'm starving. Could you go to the cafeteria and get me something to eat? Maybe some soup?""But I want to stay—""Please. I need to speak with him privately about company matters."She left reluctantly, and Mr. Shen waited until the door closed before speaking."It was terrible. They took me to some warehouse or basement—I couldn't tell with the blindfold. They kept demanding information about the company, the board members, everything. They wanted me to betray Michael.""Did you see any of their faces?""No, they wore masks the entire time. But I refused to give them anything. That's why they beat me so badly."The manager's face softened with respect. "That's incredibly brave, Mr. Shen. You could have been killed.""The company is more important than my person

The city’s night air simmered with tension, thick as smog. Michael sat in the safe house’s dimly lit lounge, wrapped in the hum of security feeds, painkillers dulling the ache in his chest but not the sharper pains in his head. Santiago hovered nearby, eyes flicking from encrypted messages on his phone to the tablet in Michael’s lap—where a grainy security feed showed Isaac’s penthouse living room.Suddenly, the silent alert flashed. An unregistered figure had slipped into Isaac’s lair. Not one of Isaac’s men. Not anyone Santiago or Michael paid.Santiago leaned in. “That’s not one of ours.”Michael’s mouth curled, cold and sharp. “Either trouble for Isaac or tonight’s free entertainment. Let’s watch.”On the screen, Isaac’s swagger evaporated in seconds as the intruder pressed a gun to the back of his skull. His bravado collapsed—his body went rigid, trembling, voice cracking with fear. “Whoever you are, just get it over with. Don’t play games.”In the safe house, Michael barked a la

That morning had started with an unexpected phone call. One of the influencers Derek had contacted—a young woman with a conscience, apparently—had reached out to Michael's team with information about the staged press conference."They want me to pretend I donated and lost money," she'd explained nervously. "Mr. Manning offered me five thousand dollars to stand there and cry on camera. But this feels wrong. I looked you up—you're actually hurt. This is all fake."Michael had immediately contacted his manager with the information. "We need to control this situation. Where is this event happening?""The Riverside Hotel plaza. But sir, there's a bigger problem—they're live-streaming everything. Our stock prices are dropping even faster now. We're getting hammered with negative reviews across all platforms.""Stay calm. Get the cars ready. We're going to attend this event personally.""Sir, are you sure that's wise? You're still recovering—""I'm sure. Prepare a list of the actual fundrais

The fluorescent lights above were the first thing Michael registered as consciousness slowly returned. The familiar antiseptic smell, the steady beeping of monitors, the dull ache radiating from his torso—he was back in the hospital. Again.As his senses gradually sharpened, he became aware of something else: someone was sobbing beside him. His hand felt wet and warm, and he realized someone was crying over it, their tears falling onto his skin."I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry..." The voice was muffled, broken by sobs. "This is all my fault... I'm so sorry, Michael..."He turned his head carefully, not wanting to startle whoever was there. Sarah sat hunched over his bedside, her face buried against his hand, her shoulders shaking with each sob."Sarah."Her head snapped up, her eyes red and swollen from crying. "Michael! You're awake!""How long have I been out?""Since last night. The doctors had to re-stitch your wound. You lost a lot of blood at that press conference." Fresh tears sp