Rain pelted the cracked sidewalk like the sky itself wanted him gone, Aiden Cole stood there, soaked to the bone, clutching a thin paper envelope that now dripped with as much despair as it held unpaid bills. The city didn’t care. The people rushing past him didn’t care. And neither did the man standing smug in the lobby behind him.“Let this be a lesson in humility,” barked Mr. Griggs, the regional manager of Dynatek Solutions. “You think hard work is enough in this world? Grow up.” Aiden’s fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white. His jaw trembled, but not from the cold.“I gave everything to this company,” he said through gritted teeth. “I pulled double shifts, cleaned up messes you caused, handled clients you couldn’t”Griggs waved him off with a sneer. “And yet, here you are. Fired. Useless. Disposable.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins quarters, nickels, a few rusted pennies and flicked them at Aiden. They clinked on the wet ground like tiny gongs

The first time Aiden stepped into the Remington Consortium’s headquarters, the building itself tried to swallow him whole, Skyscrapers loomed around it like nervous neighbors. But this tower, pure glass and steel, crowned with the golden R-stood silent and dominant over the city skyline.Inside, men in earpieces flanked his every move. Assistants whispered his name as he passed. Cameras tracked him from every angle. But what struck him most was the silence, the kind of silence that came from absolute control.His control. Evelyn walked at his side, tablet in hand, black heels tapping like a metronome of urgency, “You’ll meet with the PR team first. Then legal. Then security. And at 4 PM, you’ll make your first appearance as heir at the company gala.”Aiden raised an eyebrow. “Gala?”“Public exposure,” she said. “You need to be seen. Strong. Commanding. Not confused and overwhelmed.”He laughed dryly. “Then maybe cancel it.”“No.” She stopped walking. “If you look weak now, they will b

The file in Aiden’s hands was heavy, not from weight, but from what it meant, Photos, timestamps, bank statements. All tied together with a simple truth: Jason Cole had been working with Victor Lang for months, Money exchanged. Silent meetings at private airfields. Secret votes bought long before Aiden had even inherited a dime. It wasn’t coincidence.It wasn’t luck. It was a trap, The woman beside him, half her face hidden by shadows, tapped the photo of Jason whispering into Lang’s ear. “They planned for you to refuse the inheritance,” she said. “They were going to declare you ‘unfit’ and absorb the consortium. But when you accepted… they shifted gears.”“Who are you?” Aiden asked again, his voice quiet. She hesitated, then finally answered. “My name is Lyra Voss. I used to work for your uncle. Caleb Remington.”“Used to?” “Until he was poisoned.” Aiden felt the breath leave his lungs. “Poisoned?” he echoed.She nodded. “A neurotoxin that mimics a stroke. Took six hours to kill hi

It was just past 2:00 a.m. when the car stopped at Rosepine Cemetery. The gates were ajar. The fog curled low around the gravestones like fingers waiting to drag someone under, Aiden stepped out, followed closely by Lyra and Whitmore. The wind was cold, but not colder than what they were about to find.Row D. Plot 11. His grandfather’s grave. Or at least… it had been. Now the soil was torn open, the coffin lid cracked, and the body missing, Aiden stared at the desecrated grave with a silent fury that turned his blood to glass. “Who would do this?” he asked quietly. Whitmore’s face was grim. “Someone sending a message.”Lyra crouched beside the disturbed soil. “Not just a message. A warning. They want you to know this isn’t just about the company.”“They’re targeting my family.” She stood slowly. “No. They’re targeting your origin.” Back at the estate, the mood was darker than ever. Aiden couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t think. He poured over old files, family trees, journals. Who was his gran

It began with a scream. Not loud. Not long. Just a sharp, echoing cry in the dead of night that froze Aiden mid-step. The estate’s east wing had gone dark. By the time he got there, the guards were already down. Three men in black were sprawled across the marble floor, unconscious or dead, Aiden couldn’t tell.At the center of it all stood Lyra, a blade in one hand and a smoking pistol in the other, She was breathing hard. Her arm bled from a deep gash. But her eyes burned. “They weren’t here to scare you,” she said. “They were here to kill you.”Whitmore and Evelyn arrived seconds later. Aiden scanned the attackers. “Professionals,” Whitmore muttered. “No tags, no prints, no DNA. This was a clean job.”“And it failed,” Lyra said. But Aiden’s gut twisted. It didn’t feel like a failed assassination, It felt like a distraction. Back in his private office, the vault was wide open. Not forced. Accessed, Only one thing was missing: the drive labeled I.S. Fragment.001, the first piece of h