The headmaster's face went from pale to brightened as the guards moved towards him and walked him out of the hall. Elijah turned back to the stunned assembly, a faint smile on his lips. "Now," he said into the microphone, his voice once again calm and reassuring. "I believe it is time for you all to go to your classes. Have a wonderful day of learning." Before the children could disperse, a young female teacher in a navy-blue gown stepped forward. Her voice trembled but desperate to hold her ground. “Thank you for your generosity, sir,” she said cautiously, bowing her head slightly. “But, with all due respect, bullying our headmaster just because of money isn’t the right idea. The children..." Elijah smiled as he shook his head, the faint smile never leaving his lips. “Bullying?” His voice carried through the microphone smoothly. “Madam, perhaps you weren’t paying attention. I never bullied anyone.” The teachers exchanged uneasy glances. One of the older staffs cleared his thro

Sarah’s hand trembled as she clutched her purse, the cheerful ringtone a stark contrast to the icy dread coiling in her stomach. Gathering courage from some hidden reserve, she turned back to face the most powerful man in the country."But... it's my husband," she firmly retorted. "Our conversations should be private and confidential to only both of us."A wave of derisive laughter erupted from Elijah's guards. Bartholomew, in particular, threw his head back with a booming laugh. "Look at this woman!" he mocked, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.Sarah’s jaw tightened with shame as the public humiliation unfolded with a burning sting. "There's nothing funny in what I said, sir," she stated, her gaze fixed on only Elijah. "Can I please go?"Elijah’s lips curved into a teasing, almost playful smile. "Even if I insist?" he asked, his tone light but carrying an unmistakable weight of authority.Just as he spoke, the ringing from her purse stopped, plunging the courtyard back into a

Meanwhile, the Schwarzengers was rolling smoothly through the city in a convoy of blacked-out Limousines, silent and imposing as a funeral procession. Inside the middle Limousine vehicle, the silence was broken only by the soft hum of the climate control. Elijah Schwarzenger leaned back against the plush leather, the ghost of a cruel smile playing on his lips. The performance at Xian Mirage was over, and now his business with Aaron continued. “Bartholomew,” Elijah said, his voice a low, calm command that cut through the quiet. “Get Maestro on the line. Let’s hear his side of things. I want an update on the estate.” Bartholomew, seated in the front passenger seat, nodded. “Right away, my lord.” He reached for the sophisticated SCHWARXX communication device mounted on the dashboard, his finger poised to activate the encrypted line. Before he could make the connection, a distinct, melodic ringtone that starked contrast to the car's oppressive atmosphere chimed from Elijah’s personal p

The silence in the boutique was thick and heavy, broken only by the salesgirl’s rugged, terrified breaths at Elijah’s feet as he waited for the manager. The remaining guards stood rigid, unsure whether to look at their disgraced colleague or the imposing young lord who held their fate in his hands. Elijah, his patience evaporating like mist under a scorching sun, suddenly slammed a clenched fist onto the polished mahogany counter. The sharp crack made everyone jump. “Enough of this!” he snapped, his voice echoing in the luxurious space. He turned his icy gaze to the guards. “Time is running late. I will not stand here all night because of one foolish girl.” Bartholomew, ever the attentive, immediately checked the platinum face of his expensive Tom Hilfiger wristwatch. “It’s Nine PM, boss,” he announced, his voice carrying a note of grave concern. “You have to get your rest before the special event tomorrow. It would be disastrous if you were tired.” Elijah shot him a look, though

"I wouldn't gain anything if I let you live," Pierce said, his voice a terrifying calm, philosophical whisper. "Think about it, Priest. If I pull this trigger, nothing of consequence will happen to me or anybody. The world will not stop rotating. The sun will still rise. No one will remember to miss you, not really." He paused, the silence stretching into an eternity. "But I won't. No," he repeated, a strange, almost regretful finality in his tone. "I won't." "Gulp." The loud noise of Priest slurping at Pierce's feet echoed in the room as he bent down to drag his trousers, pleading. "I beg of you, my lord. Please find it in your infinite mercy so that I may live..." The ringing of Natasha's phone drowned out Priest's pleas as Pierce pulled his legs free from his grip and walked over to the table. "Okay, who is it?" he said coldly into the receiver after answering the call. "Please, give the phone to ma'am! I need to speak with her immediately," the voice on the other end insisted.