Sarah's former best friend—Lauren—sat in her office staring at spreadsheets that might as well have been written in blood. Red numbers everywhere. Hemorrhaging money like an open wound that wouldn't stop bleeding.Her assistant knocked timidly. "Ms. Lauren? Another investor just pulled out. Henderson Holdings. They're citing 'reputation concerns.'"Lauren closed her eyes. "How much?""Twelve million.""Of course." Lauren's laugh was bitter. "Add it to the pile."The assistant hesitated. "There's also... the media has been calling. They want to know about your connection to Isaac Thompson. Whether you knew about his criminal activities.""I didn't.""I know, ma'am. But they're implying—""I don't care what they're implying. Just... get out. Please."When the door closed, Lauren let her head fall into her hands. The land deal with Michael had been resolved months ago, but the damage was done. Her name was now associated with Isaac's scandals. Investors saw her as toxic. Banks were reluc

The encrypted message arrived at midnight, forwarded through three different servers before reaching Michael's secure device. Santiago stood behind him as he read, his expression growing darker with each line."Vincent's planning something big," Michael said quietly. "The charity gala. B1's hosting it tomorrow night."Santiago leaned closer, reading over his shoulder. "Hostage situation? In front of the city's entire elite?""Vincent's desperate. We've been squeezing his operations for weeks—his money's drying up, his reputation's crumbling. This is his Hail Mary." Michael scrolled through the intelligence. "He's planning to storm the gala with armed men, take hostages, demand ransom. And while everyone's panicking, his team steals from the attendees.""Bold. Stupid, but bold." Santiago frowned. "We need to call the police. FBI. Someone.""And cause a panic? Cancel the event?" Michael shook his head. "Vincent will just pick another target. Another time. We'll never see it coming." His

Michael found Vincent on the mezzanine level, directing his remaining men through a Bluetooth earpiece. When their eyes met, everything else faded away."Thompson." Vincent's smile was cold. "I was hoping you'd find me.""It's over, Vincent. Your men are being rounded up. The police are outside. Surrender now and maybe you'll live long enough to see trial.""Over?" Vincent laughed, removing his earpiece and crushing it under his heel. "You always were arrogant. That's why this was so easy.""Easy? I've dismantled your entire organization.""No. You've forced me to evolve." Vincent rolled his shoulders, loosening them. "You wanted a war? Congratulations. You won. But wars have casualties."He lunged.Michael barely dodged the first strike—a knife that appeared from nowhere, slashing through the air where his throat had been. Vincent was fast, professionally trained, his movements economical and deadly.They crashed into a decorative pillar, trading blows. Vincent landed a vicious kidne

The morning sun cast long shadows across the hospital room. Sarah sat perfectly still in her chair, watching Michael with an expression he couldn't quite read. Waiting."I was fourteen when I ran away from the orphanage," Michael began, his voice quiet. "My grandfather had just taken me in, but I couldn't stay. Too many rules, too much expectation. I thought I could make it on my own.""Michael, I know about the orphanage. You told me—""That's where I lied." He met her eyes. "Or rather, where I left things out. Sarah, I wasn't just some kid who got lucky in business. I built something from nothing, but the 'nothing' I started with was more than I ever let you believe."Sarah's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?""When I was twenty-two, I created a tech startup with money I'd saved from working three jobs through college. A data encryption platform. It sold eighteen months later for twelve million dollars.""Twelve million?" Sarah's eyes widened. "You never mentioned—""Because it was

Derek sat in the dingy back room of a bar on the wrong side of the city, staring at the three men across from him. They were Isaac's leftovers—criminals who'd lost their meal ticket when their boss went to prison."So let me get this straight," the leader—a scarred man named Marcus—leaned back in his chair. "You want us to help you kidnap someone close to Michael Thompson. For revenge.""For money," Derek corrected, trying to sound confident. "Ransom. Thompson's worth billions. He'll pay anything to get his people back.""And you think we're stupid enough to go after Thompson directly?" Another thug, skinnier with dead eyes, laughed mockingly. "Isaac tried that. Look where he is.""I'm not Isaac." Derek's hands clenched under the table. "I'm smarter. I know Michael's weaknesses."Marcus exchanged glances with his men. "Your daddy just got sent to prison because Thompson destroyed him. You're broke, desperate, and now you're sitting in our bar begging for help." He smiled, showing gold