Nathan sat in the library of Hayes mansion. His leg ached, a dull throb from the injury that hadn’t healed properly, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the storm inside his chest. On the table before him lay his phone, the latest message from Liam still open on the screen.The video played again, despite Nathan’s reluctance. He forced himself to watch, his fists tightening against the carved oak table as Mr. Hayes appeared on-screen. His father’s hair was disheveled, his face hollowed by exhaustion—or the appearance of exhaustion. The camera angle was crueler this time, deliberately catching shadows that deepened the lines around his eyes. The voiceover, Liam’s cold and theatrical tone, announced:“You’ve stalled long enough, Nathan. Fifty-one percent of Hayes Holdings—or the old man suffers worse. Twenty-four hours. Fail me, and the world sees what kind of son you are.”The image cut abruptly, but the silence afterward was louder than the threat.Nathan pressed pause, exha

Cassandra sat nearby, curled on the edge of the armchair, watching him with quiet intensity. She had chosen to share her secret—the clue about the villa—and now there was no turning back.“We have one chance,” Nathan muttered, eyes fixed on the flickering dot that marked Liam’s stronghold. His voice was steady, but his grip on the device betrayed the storm beneath. “If we go in wrong, Liam won’t hesitate. He’ll use Father as leverage until he’s squeezed every drop of power from us.”Cassandra leaned forward, folding her hands. “That’s why we have to control the game before he does. You said it yourself: he thinks you’ll fold, but you don’t fold, Nathan. You strategize.” Her eyes held his, dark and unwavering. “So let’s finish this.”Her resolve stirred something inside him—a warmth, a strength he hadn’t realized he needed until this very moment. For months, Cassandra had been an advisor, cautious yet ambitious. Tonight, she had stepped into the fire with him.Nathan exhaled. “All righ

At the villa’s courtyard, a ring of armed thugs closed in, their shadows flickering under the harsh floodlights. The scent of damp earth and gun oil mixed in the night air, the silence between each heartbeat cut only by the low growl of Liam’s voice.“Do you take me for a fool, Nathan?” Liam hissed, yanking Mr. Hayes forward. The older man stumbled, bound wrists scraping against his sides. Sweat drenched his face, not from exertion alone but from the weight strapped across his chest. A crude device—wires, blinking lights, a makeshift vest of menace.Nathan’s stomach dropped. His mind screamed that it had to be fake—Liam thrived on intimidation, not finality—but the wires and steel casing looked real enough to freeze his breath.Cassandra stepped closer to Nathan, her hand brushing against his. Her eyes, sharp with defiance, never wavered. “That’s low, Liam. Even for you.”Liam smirked, a predator savoring his prey’s panic. “Low? No. Efficient. You dangle fake papers in my face, you in

Nathan stumbled across the marble floor of Hayes mansion, gasping for air, the acrid scent of tear gas still clinging to his lungs. Cassandra’s hand found his arm, steadying him as he tried to focus through the haze. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly, though her eyes held that familiar sharp determination that always seemed to anchor him.“Better,” he rasped, though the burning in his eyes made him blink repeatedly. “But we can’t waste time. Liam… he won’t stop. He’ll figure out a way to use Dad to force me to fold.”Cassandra nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “He dropped something when he ran—his phone.” She held it out, grimy fingerprints smudging the black surface. “It’s a burner. Probably used just for tracking us or issuing threats.”Nathan snatched the phone and flipped it over in his hands. It was cheap, nothing sophisticated, but even cheap devices left traces. He powered it on and immediately saw a partial call log, a handful of numbers th

Nathan eased the vehicle to a halt on a narrow, unpaved road. He killed the engine and listened—nothing but the rustle of wind through the pines. He reached into the backseat and pulled out a compact drone case. His tech expert, Morgan, had insisted he use the surveillance equipment cautiously. The burner phone had already narrowed their search to this town; now the drone would confirm what their eyes couldn’t safely see from the ground.Cassandra touched his arm before he launched it. “Patience. If Liam has scouts watching the road, they’ll spot even a flicker of movement.”Her voice was calm, but Nathan could hear the strain underneath. She had been steady through every twist of this conflict, but the weight of Hayes’ captivity pressed on them both.“I don’t have patience left,” Nathan said, his tone low. “My father doesn’t have time left. Every hour he spends with Liam is another chance for him to tighten his grip.”Still, he heeded her advice. Instead of launching immediately, he