Steven didn’t answer immediately, he was still trying to sink in everything as this was something he didn't expect from the man who stood by and watched his family ruin him and did nothing. He stood by the window, city lights painting him in fractured gold and shadow, jaw tight, shoulders rigid. Harry remained where he was, hands at his sides, not reaching, not pleading with gestures. Just standing there like a man who had finally run out of armor. “You want my help,” Steven said at last, voice controlled but vibrating underneath. “After everything you all did to me?” “Yes, you are the only one who can.” “You want me to protect the family that fed me to the wolves that left me for dead!” Harry swallowed. “Yes... we wronged you I will not deny that fact.” Steven laughed once. It wasn’t humor. It was disbelief. “Well the truth is, you all deserved it,” Steven said, turning fully now. His eyes were sharp, cutting. “Every article, every whisper and every invitation that

Steven held his father’s gaze, and for a moment the room seemed to narrow to just the two of them. “It’s about Roman Kovac,” he repeated quietly. Sarah stepped closer. “What about him?” Steven exhaled slowly, as if deciding whether to detonate something fragile. “Roman Kovac isn’t just a financier who preys on distressed empires,” he said. “He built his network on old shipping corridors—corridors that predate sanctions, treaties, and modern customs enforcement. Routes your grandfather helped map.” Harry’s stomach dropped. “That’s impossible,” he said. “Those were legitimate freight lanes.” “They were dual-use lanes,” Steven corrected. “Commercial by day. Invisible by night.” Helen, pale, gripped the back of a chair. “Invisible for what?” Steven didn’t soften it, he simply said it as it was. “Arms. Rare earth minerals under embargo. Biological materials that never made it onto manifests.” Silence followed, it was so thick and suffocating. Harry shook his head. “My

He glanced at the screen and for the first time, his composure fractured. “You triggered it,” Voss said sharply. Steven met his gaze. “You said narrative matters,” he replied evenly. “Let’s test that now shall we?” In the distance— there were sirens, faint at first... then multiplying. Sarah blinked. “You didn’t just send it to journalists.” Steven’s eyes stayed on Voss. “No,” he said quietly. “I sent it to everyone of my people who will take this up to the ends of the earth if need be.” The fog no longer felt protective, it felt exposed. And Adrian Voss, for the first time that night, looked uncertain. ***** Sirens grew louder in the distance, not close enough to be immediate but close enough to complicate things. Adrian Voss glanced at his phone as notifications stacked rapidly... financial alerts, encrypted messages, media pings. Roman Kovac’s name was beginning to surface in places it had never appeared before. Steven’s phone vibrated. He stepped as

Helen Milton hadn’t been in active control for months, but she watched everything. When Steven told her about the clause, something inside her fractured. “I don’t remember that,” she whispered, her voice thin with disbelief. “You wouldn’t,” Princewill said gently. “It was embedded.” Helen stared at the contract summary on the tablet as though the words might rearrange themselves into something familiar. They didn’t. She closed her eyes, replaying that rainy afternoon in her mind. Victor Hale’s voice, his patience, his reassuring smile. Then Adrian Voss calmly spoke to her and all that. “You made me feel like I was saving the company,” she said faintly, almost to herself. Steven knelt beside her chair. His movements were careful, controlled. “You were,” he said softly. “No.” Helen shook her head slowly. Tears pooled but didn’t fall. “I handed him the keys to ruin us and everything we've built.” The admission seemed to hollow her out. Guilt burned hotter than ange

Roman Kovac did not react at once, he rarely ever does. When Steven’s encrypted file arrived with nothing but a brief line, We believe you should see this... Roman watched the footage alone. Twice. He did not flinch when Victor Hale’s voice filled the quiet study. “…once she signs, stabilization gives us structured entry.” He did not shift when Voss asked, “And if they resist?” But at the soft, calculated reply, “She’ll think she’s protecting them” his jaw set, barely noticeable. He was not surprised by this, the only thing he did was to calculate. When the screen faded to black, Roman remained motionless for a long moment. Then he reached for his phone. “Get Hale,” he said. Victor Hale arrived within the hour, color already drained from his face. “You sent reassurance memoranda,” Roman began evenly. “Copied to arbitration counsel.” “As instructed,” Hale replied, swallowing. “I authorized leverage tied to stabilization,” Roman said. “Not tailored persuasion.”