The world did not sleep that night.By morning, the restaurant incident had become the headline of every major outlet. Clips of Wirtkov King’s swift, brutal intervention looped endlessly across television screens, gossip channels, and social media feeds.“THE KING’S WRATH,” read one headline.“WHO IS THE WOMAN WHO TAMED THE LION?” another screamed.Every angle, every second, had been recorded and dissected — the elegance of Ethan’s movements, the ice in his tone, the stunned look on Emma’s face. Even slowed-down footage of him extending his hand to her afterward had gone viral.The public, divided as ever, argued furiously.Some hailed Ethan as a hero — a man defending a woman’s dignity. Others called him dangerous, arrogant, unstable. And in every clip, Emma’s face appeared beside his, the unintentional centerpiece of a global spectacle she never asked for.By the time she returned to work that morning, the storm was already waiting.“Miss Robbins! Miss Robbins, is it true you were

The world geared up for the International Business Summit in New York. Every major news network looped footage of the skyline being prepped for the grand event — security barricades, motorcades, red carpets, and men in black suits scanning rooftops with military precision.And at the center of it all was Emma Robbins.In less than a month, she had risen to one of the most talked-about minds in global economics. Her nomination as Most Promising Female CEO in the upcoming summit had sparked national pride and family celebration.That evening, the Robbins family gathered in the dining hall — the long oak table gleaming under the soft golden chandelier. The room smelled faintly of roast herbs and fresh-baked bread. Laughter and the gentle clinking of silverware filled the space, but the star of the evening was Emma, her cheeks pink from all the attention.Grandfather Robbins, seated at the head of the table, was smiling from ear to ear. His usually stern face had softened with pride. “Wh

The city of New York pulsed like a living organism — lights, sirens, and flashing cameras filling the air with the promise of something monumental. Every screen on every skyscraper carried the same headline:“INTERNATIONAL BUSINESS SUMMIT — THE FUTURE OF GLOBAL ECONOMICS HOLDS TOMORROW.”Private jets descended into JFK like a flock of metallic birds, each carrying billionaires, dignitaries, defense contractors, and media empires. The summit had become more than a conference — it was a battlefield of influence, ambition, and power.In a high-rise suite overlooking the Hudson, Lauretta and her corporate circle gathered around a glass conference table littered with laptops, invitation cards, and designer folders.“Everything’s set for tomorrow,” One of the team members said, scanning the itinerary. “Security clearance, hotel accommodation, VIP networking after the second panel — we’re covered.”Tracy, who was also part of the group smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “Co

The chandeliers of the Empire Hilton ballroom glimmered like constellations as the final evening of the International Business Summit began. Every camera in the room turned when the tall figure of Wirtkov King stepped through the golden doors, flanked by discreet security. A quiet ripple of admiration swept across the delegates — the legendary businessman, elusive yet charismatic, had arrived.Emma’s heart raced as she caught sight of him. Dressed in a black tailored tuxedo, his composure radiated quiet command. He moved through the hall with unhurried precision, greeting dignitaries, shaking hands with CEOs, and offering short, respectful nods to heads of state.“Mr. King, over here!” photographers called, flashes bursting like fireworks.Wirtkov King offered a brief smile to the photographers but kept his demeanor measured, graceful, and untouchable. Every gesture was deliberate — the tilt of his head, the faint nods, the quiet restraint of a man who no longer needed to prove any

Oliver Powers heaved a deep sigh as the name "A.M.E.N" rolled off his tongue.It was as if fate itself had decided to play in his favour in delivering A.M.E.N to him as an act of providence, as it was time to settle old scores.Excusing himself for a brief moment, he lifted his phone, and dialed Cain's number.“Get the team ready,” he said coldly. “Tonight, we’re ending the myth.”Cain's voice on the other end hesitated. “You mean… A.M.E.N. is here?”“Yes, and tonight, we finish the job."He hung up before Cain could reply.Cain, who had stationed himself at the Gate all night couldn't understand what was going on as to how A.M.E.N had been able to get past them.The last guest that had come in according to them was Wirtkov King, and it didn't make sense to him as to how A.M.E.N had come in, and he wasn't aware of it.But since Oliver Powers had given the orders, the least he could do was to simply obey without any form of questioning.As for Oliver Powers, he stood still, eyes dark w