Connor stood by the wide office window, the city stretched below like a glittering chessboard. In his hand, the file of invitees felt less like a burden now, more like a challenge waiting to be met. Jimmy’s voice still echoed in his ear, steady and confident: “Give me the tasks, young master, and consider them done.”Connor turned from the skyline and sat, spreading the documents across his desk. He drew a pen down the list, grouping names and requirements into clean categories. Venue, catering, translation, accommodation, media, transportation, sponsorship. Each one was a mountain in itself.“Jimmy,” he said, placing the phone on speaker. “We’ll need specialists. Can you assemble teams?”Jimmy chuckled. “They’re already being contacted. For venue and staging, I’m calling Sterling & Co. Event Planners—they owe us after we secured their last government contract. For catering, D’Marco Hospitality—they’ll clear their schedule for you. Translators and interpreters—I’ll pull from the Inter

The silence after the command was almost deafening. Heads swiveled toward the source of the voice. It was shrill, commanding, but carried the tremor of desperation.From the far side of the banquet hall, a woman in an embroidered gown pushed through the stunned crowd. Bandicoot’s mother, Lady Kakadu Kuranda, swept forward like a storm. Her eyes were blazing with fury, her chin lifted high.“What do you think you’re doing?” She demanded, her words slicing through the tension. She pointed at the guards still holding her son. “This is a conference by the Kuranda Group, and you dare throw out its heir? My son?! Have you all lost your senses?”But Edward Cheller didn’t flinch. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a faint smile tugging at his lips. His posture radiated the authority of a man who didn’t need to raise his voice to dominate.“I think you’re mistaken, dear aunty,” Edward said smoothly, the smirk never leaving his face. His tone was respectful enough to sting. “Fi

The loud laughter echoed within the polished walls of the private chamber. Jenson’s men leaned back in their chairs, trading smirks like schoolboys who had caught their teacher in a lie.“Oh wow, boss!” one of them jeered, slapping the table with his palm. “We didn’t expect that!”Another chimed in, voice dripping with mockery. “So what’s the plan, boss? Are you going to marry her and make her your second wife? Or just keep her as a side chick?”The table erupted with more laughter, the assistants’ mirth bouncing shamelessly across the room.Jenson himself leaned back, his cape falling open like the wings of a predator at rest. He gave a low, amused chuckle. “Marriage?” His smirk widened. “Who’s talking about a relationship? Or responsibility? No, gentlemen… one night is enough. One night, and my work is done.”The laughter swelled, bold and vulgar. To them, this was entertainment. To Connor, standing in the shadows at the edge of the room, it was gasoline poured on an open flame.His

The heavy doors to the private chamber banged open, and the Kuranda family stormed inside. Dundarra led the way, the cane striking furiously against the marble, his face tight with dread. Wonga trailed close, muttering curses under her breath. Kirra rushed in behind them, her heart hammering so loudly she could barely hear anything else from the external chaos.The scene that greeted their eyes made them all freeze. The Harold Jenson, the heir to the Red Nest Industries… the man whose name had become a symbol of undefeatable wealth and power, was now lying down on the floor.The flamboyant cape attached to his formal suit was now looking wrinkled and stained with oxidised blood, standing in sharp contrast against the brilliant white tiles. His assistants and bodyguards were also in a similar condition, scattered around the room like matchsticks, groaning and clutching their ribs. Some of them were knocked unconscious, while others were too dazed to stand. The air carried the stenc

The pen trembled in Kirra’s hand. Her tears had caused the letters to blur completely, and right now, the typed uniform text looked like shadows on the paper. The nib scratched the first curve of her name, forming the letter ‘K’. Somehow, she froze after writing that, like she had forgotten her own name. “Go on, darling…”Wonga coaxed her lovingly. She laid a hand on Kirra’s back, pushing ever so slightly. “Sign it, what is there to think about? This is absolutely the right decision…this is the only decision.”But before the words could finish leaving her lips, Kirra jerked forward with sudden force.“No!” She cried, her voice cracking like thunder. Her hand slashed the pen violently across the page, tearing through the fragile paper. The ‘K’ was crossed out haphazardly, while the ink bled into the paper. She dragged the pen back and forth across the sheet, pressing into it with so much force that the nib twisted and broke while the paper ripped under her hand.The paper, the dec