Washington D.C. – Federal CourthouseIt smelled like bleach, old paper, and the kind of authority that could crush a man without lifting a finger.Jason’s footsteps were slow and deliberate as he pushed the mop cart down the endless stretch of marble halls. The cart’s wheels gave a faint squeak every few steps, but otherwise, the building swallowed sound. His gray janitor’s uniform hung loose on his frame, his baseball cap shadowing his face. The laminated ID badge clipped to his chest gleamed under the fluorescent light — authentic enough to fool casual glances.The uniform was real. The badge was not.He reminded himself for the tenth time: This is infiltration, not vengeance. But the lie rang hollow in his own head.Because beneath the calm exterior, something inside him was already sharpening.Courtroom 3A loomed ahead. Jason slowed, pulse tightening. This was Hammond’s domain.Judge Malcolm Hammond — the man who had presided over Jason’s trial eighteen months ago.The man who had

The Lee mansion was suffocating that night. The golden lights made the marble gleam, but it couldn’t hide the stink of fury in the air.Brandon slammed a crystal glass against the wall, shards scattering like diamonds. “He humiliated me! In front of investors, in front of the goddamn world!”Mr. Lee stood from his leather armchair. His hand cracked across Brandon’s cheek before the rant could go any further.“You fool!” Mr. Lee’s voice boomed, deep and merciless. “You let that bastard turn the boardroom into a circus. Do you know how much money is at stake?”Brandon clutched his face, stunned. “You think this is my fault? He came with fake papers—”“Shut up!” Mr. Lee’s spit flew as he shouted. “If you weren’t sloppy, if you weren’t busy parading women and wasting money, he would’ve had nothing to use against you!”Brandon’s teeth ground together. “So now you’re taking his side? Jason, the stray dog you picked up for Emily?”From the corner of the room, Mrs. Lee spoke for the first tim

Brandon’s clap echoed like mockery in the night air. He strolled into the lantern light, suit jacket undone, tie loose, smirk carved across his face.“Well, well,” he drawled. “The rejected mutt comes crawling back to the garden. Tell me, Jason, do you ever get tired of embarrassing yourself?”Jason didn’t move. His eyes narrowed, his hands still curled loosely at his sides. “Careful, Brandon. You almost sound brave when you’ve got an audience.”Emily stepped between them quickly. “Stop this. Both of you.”Brandon ignored her, his smirk widening. “Oh, I’m just getting started.” His eyes flicked to Emily’s trembling hands pressed against her stomach. His smile turned cruel. “Funny thing about miscarriages… they tend to leave scars. But you, dear sister, don’t look very broken at all.”Emily stiffened, her lips parting in panic.Jason’s heart slammed. He took a step forward, his voice a whip. “What do you know?”Brandon’s gaze glittered with malice. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know? Maybe

Morning didn’t creep into the city. It exploded.By the time Jason opened his eyes, his face was everywhere. News anchors, bloggers, influencers—everyone was dissecting the grainy police footage. The video was shaky, but the golden glow was unmistakable. Jason Carter—once the most despised son-in-law in Chicago—was now something else entirely.On a massive flat-screen in Bill’s living room, a young anchor’s voice filled the air:“Viewers, this is bodycam footage from last night’s incident in Southside Chicago. The unidentified man—confirmed by some as Jason Carter—appears to emit light from his skin while confronting known gang members. Authorities are investigating whether this was an act of vigilantism or something more dangerous.”The screen cut to another commentator, a woman in a red blazer:“We’re looking at either cutting-edge tech or something supernatural. Either way, Jason Carter is no hero. This is the same man accused of killing his unborn child. Are we ready to hand him t

The Lee mansion doors slammed open with a thunder that shook the marble hall. Servants gasped, dropping trays, scattering like frightened birds as Jason stormed in. His footsteps echoed, steady, deliberate, dripping with fury and something far more dangerous.“EMILY!” His voice boomed through the corridors, sharp and commanding. “Come out!”The family appeared like predators smelling blood. Mr. Lee descended the staircase, his tailored suit immaculate, his face twisted in disgust. Brandon trailed behind him, still nursing the bruise of humiliation from before, his eyes burning with hatred. Mrs. Lee glided forward from the parlor, calm as ever, her expression unreadable.Emily emerged last, pale, trembling, her hands folded protectively across her stomach.Jason’s eyes locked on her, then swung back to her father. “I want to see my wife.”Mr. Lee scoffed. “Your wife? You mean the daughter you dragged through hell? The one you disgraced so badly this family can’t walk down a street with