The sound of breaking glass ripped through the Greenwood mansion like thunder.Crystal shards scattered across the marble floor as Gibson Ridge staggered backward, whiskey dripping from his tailored suit. His wife, Deborah, stood across the grand dining table, chest heaving, eyes burning with rage.“You’re pathetic, Gibson!” she spat, her diamond necklace glinting beneath the chandelier. “Do you think your sweet words and cheap loyalty are enough for me? You were lucky to even stand beside me at the altar.”The room was silent except for the echo of her cruelty. Servants stood frozen at the edges, eyes darting nervously between their employers, too terrified to move.Gibson’s jaw clenched. His tall frame was steady, but his hands trembled with a fury he barely contained. He had walked into this house believing in love, in family, in loyalty. Now he stared at the woman he had given his soul to, and saw nothing but betrayal.“I gave you everything,” he said, his voice low, dangerous, tr

The hum of the engine was the first sound Gibson heard when the darkness loosened its grip.Pain followed next. Every breath cut like broken glass. His ribs burned, his vision swam, and his body screamed to surrender, but surrender had never been in his blood.He forced his eyes open. The ceiling above him was leather and steel, the faint glow of dashboard lights flickering in the distance. He was in a car. Alive. Barely. Two shadows sat in the front.“Still breathing?” the driver muttered, voice steady, almost indifferent.“More than breathing,” the passenger said. His head turned, eyes gleaming in the rearview mirror. “Look at him. A man beaten within an inch of his life… and yet he refuses to close his eyes.”Gibson’s lips cracked as he whispered, “Who… are you?”The man in the passenger seat leaned closer, his voice low, carrying a sharp edge. “Friends. Or enemies. That depends on you.”The SUV roared through the night, leaving behind the Greenwood mansion like a graveyard of brok

The Greenwood Tower gleamed in the heart of the city, a monument of glass and steel piercing the sky. But beneath its polished surface, the foundation was shaking.Boardroom chaos erupted like wildfire. Executives bickered, analysts hurled reports across the table, and the numbers on the giant screen spoke louder than any words.Losses. Delays. Contracts dissolving, Richard Greenwood slammed his fist down. “Enough! How the hell are we losing three million in a single day?!”A trembling executive stammered, “Our shipments through Ridge Empire’s distribution lines were halted without notice. Backup suppliers refused to cooperate. We tried rerouting, but”Richard cut him off with a glare sharp enough to draw blood. “Don’t try. Fix it!”Deborah sat at the far end of the table, her lips painted into a calm smile, though her hands twisted in her lap beneath the desk. She raised her glass, feigning composure.“This is nothing but a storm, Father. We’ll weather it. Greenwood Empire has surviv

Deborah Greenwood woke with a start. The sound of shattering glass still echoed in her ears, though her room was silent. Sweat clung to her forehead as she sat up in the vast emptiness of the penthouse bedroom. It was just a dream, Or was it?The image lingered: Gibson’s face, bloodied, broken, yet standing tall in the shadows of her mind. His voice, low and venomous, whispering: “You’ll regret this. I promise you.”Deborah pressed her palms over her ears as if she could silence the memory. But she couldn’t silence the truth clawing at her chest. Gibson Ridge might still be alive.The Greenwood Tower was a storm. Shareholders screamed. Investors demanded explanations. And Richard Greenwood’s fury grew by the hour.Deborah sat across from her father in the boardroom, hiding the tremor in her hands.“Mel Consortium moves like they know our playbook,” Richard barked, throwing a file across the table. “And Ridge Empire is cutting us at the knees. It’s not random, it’s calculated. Someone

The Greenwood Tower had never shone so brightly. From the marble staircases to the golden chandeliers, everything glistened with wealth.The Greenwood family had spared no expense for tonight’s gala, an extravagant display meant to remind the world that their empire stood tall, untouched, unshaken.Guests in tailored suits and shimmering gowns mingled across the ballroom, sipping champagne as a jazz quartet played softly in the corner.Investors, partners, media executives, everyone who mattered in the state was here tonight. And all of them waited to hear Richard Greenwood’s speech, the one that would reaffirm their faith in Greenwood Empire after weeks of stock volatility.But beneath the glitter and gold, tension clung to the air like smoke.Deborah Greenwood stood near the balcony, dressed in emerald silk that hugged her figure. On the surface, she was radiant, poised, her smile flawless. But inside, her heart clawed at her chest, each beat echoing like a warning bell.She couldn’