Three hours later.The VIP Intensive Care Unit at Saint Jude’s was silent, save for the rhythmic, ominous beep... beep... of the life support monitors.Helen sat by the bedside, her red dress stiff with dried blood. She held Adrian’s hand, her head resting on the mattress, her tears soaking the sterile sheets. Beside her, Eva stood like a statue, her usual vibrant energy replaced by a pale, hollow shock.Magnus Thorne stood at the door, his massive frame blocking the view from the hallway. He looked like a man who had lost his king. He was wiping his eyes with a handkerchief.Inside the room, the medical charts told a story of inevitable death.Patient: Adrian West. Injuries: Perforating gunshot wound to the left ventricle. Secondary projectile trauma to the temporal lobe. Status: Critical. Pre-operative Coma. Prognosis: 2% chance of survival. Expected vegetative state if revived.The Doctor had been prepping the OR for hours, terrified to even make the first cut. The nurses were spea

The Double Dip The air in the abandoned warehouse smelled of rust, damp concrete, and the intoxicating scent of stolen wealth. Bobby Jackson sat on a crate, his legs kicked up on a folding table that groaned under the weight of the Lang family fortune. It was a beautiful sight. Stacks of crisp hundred-dollar bills, bonds, deeds to properties, and a mountain of jewelry that glittered under the harsh halogen bulb swinging above. He picked up a diamond necklace—a heavy, platinum piece that Vanessa had bragged about wearing to the Met Gala. He held it up to the light, whistling low. “Look at that fire,” Bobby grilled, tossing it to Riz. “That’s easily fifty grand on the street. Maybe eighty if we find a dumb enough buyer in Mexico .” Riz caught it, grinning. “We cleaned ’em out, Boss. The safe was stacked. I found this in the drawer, too.” He held up a heavy Patek Philippe watch. “Lucas’s father’s watch,” Bobby chuckled, taking a swig of cheap beer. “Vanessa kept it as a keepsake.

The elevator doors opened into the lobby, but Vanessa couldn't move. She stood paralyzed, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.“He… he…” Vanessa stammered.“He robbed you,” Ethan said coldly, handing the phone back. “Your fiancé. The ‘millionaire.’ He cleaned you out.”“No,” Vanessa whispered. “No, Bobby loves me. He… he helped me plan everything. He hates Adrian!”“He played you,” Ethan scoffed, stepping out of the elevator. “He saw a desperate, greedy woman, and he milked her dry. The safe? The bonds? Vanessa, if he took the corporate emergency funds… you’re bankrupt.”The realization hit her like a physical blow. The cash reserves for the hostile takeover of Crestmoor? Gone. The jewelry she had inherited? Gone. The deeds to the Lang properties? Gone.And Lucas. Her annoying, spoiled, only brother. He was tied up in a warehouse with a knife to his throat.“I have to save him,” Vanessa cried, running after Ethan. “Ethan, help me! We have to pay the ransom! I need f

“...and if you are just joining us, the atmosphere here at the New York Supreme Court is nothing short of electric. It is a circus, a gladiator arena, and a corporate merger all rolled into one.”The news reporter, a blonde woman in a trench coat fighting against the wind, pressed her earpiece as she spoke into the camera. Behind her, the marble steps of the courthouse were swarming with paparazzi, protestors, and curious onlookers.“We are moments away from the most high-profile custody hearing of the decade. On one side, we have Vanessa Lang, CEO of Lang Enterprises, who has had a tumultuous forty-eight hours. Sources confirm that just last night, Ms. Lang was involved in a high-stakes police operation to rescue her brother, Lucas Lang, from a kidnapping attempt that allegedly drained her company’s liquid assets.”The cameraman panned to the sleek black SUVs lined up at the curb.“And on the other side... the enigma. Adrian West. The man the internet is calling the ‘God of Chef.’ Th

The silence that followed this time wasn't confused. It was stunned.And then, the laughter exploded. It was raucous. It was hysterical. Even the bailiff cracked a smile.“Doom?” Ethan cackled, slapping the table. “He calls himself Doom! Oh my god, he’s lost his mind. The bullet must have hit his brain. He thinks he’s a comic book character!”Marcus Thorne was shaking with laughter. “Your Honor, please. This is a mental health crisis. We need a psychiatric evaluation, not a hearing.”Vanessa covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking. She thought he had finally snapped.Judge Sterling banged her gavel furiously. BANG! BANG! BANG!“Silence! Absolute silence or I will clear this courtroom!”She glared at Adrian, her face red with irritation.“Mr. West,” she hissed. “This is a court of law, not a stage for your delusions. ‘Doom’ is not a name. It is a word. You are wasting my time.”“Expatriate,” Judge Sterling commanded. “Explain yourself immediately before I have you removed.”Adrian did