"I think it is," Blake replied, nodding to his men. They moved forward smoothly, each grabbing one of Frederick's arms with practiced efficiency."Get your hands off me! Do you know who I am? Do you—" Frederick's protests faded as he was efficiently escorted toward the door.Blake paused at the entrance, looking back at Pervis. "Sir, if you need anything else, please don't hesitate to contact the main office. We'll ensure this situation is handled properly."Pervis nodded once.Blake and his team disappeared down the hallway, Frederick's indignant shouting echoing back until it finally faded to nothing.Isabella remained on the ground, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. She looked up at Pervis with red-rimmed eyes. "What... what's going to happen to me?""That depends," Pervis said calmly, "on whether you've learned anything from today."Isabella's face crumpled, and she lowered her head again, saying nothing.Rick and Danny took this as their cue to slip out of the construction

"You were at that gala! You said he was there! You said he was networking with people!" Frederick's face was purple with rage. "Did it never occur to you that maybe—just maybe—he actually knew some of those people? That maybe he wasn't crashing at all?"Isabella's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out."If someone truly powerful is backing him," Frederick continued, his voice dropping to something cold and dangerous, "then I'm implicated. Me! A low-level descendant of a purchased lordship, pretending to be more important than I am, going up against someone with real connections?" He laughed bitterly. "Do you understand what that means? I'm finished. My family's business relationships are destroyed. My father is furious. And all because you couldn't be bothered to gather proper intelligence!""That's not fair!" Isabella cried. "You're the one who threatened him! You're the one who called the guards! I was just—""You were just running your mouth like you always do," Frederick

Pervis nodded, carefully placing all the documents back in the envelope. "In the meantime, Gerald and Chris think they're still in control. Let's keep it that way."Across the city, in the sprawling Downey family estate, Isabella Downey stood in her grandfather's study, trying very hard not to shake.Tony Downey was seventy-three years old, silver-haired, and possessed the kind of cold fury that only came from decades of building and protecting a business empire. Right now, that fury was directed entirely at his granddaughter."Explain to me," Tony said, his voice dangerously quiet, "how you managed to destroy three major contracts, tank our stock price by fifteen percent, and get us blacklisted from the Riverside Foundation—all in a single day.""Grandfather, I didn't mean—""Didn't mean to what?" Tony's voice rose. "Didn't mean to insult the Coleman heir? Didn't mean to mock him publicly? Didn't mean to align yourself with Frederick Ashford in his idiotic attempt to threaten one of

Tony stood alone in the private room, staring at his reflection in the window. Outside, the city glittered with lights—a reminder of wealth and power and the endless competition for both.But for the first time in fifty years, Tony Downey felt genuinely uncertain about his ability to navigate these waters.Samuel Watson drove home through the darkening streets, his hands gripping the steering wheel too tightly. The conversation with Tony had shaken him more than he wanted to admit.He'd come so close to agreeing. The desire for revenge, for fighting back against the forces that were destroying his family's legacy—it had been almost overwhelming.But reason had prevailed. Barely.By the time he pulled into the Watson estate, full night had fallen. The house was lit from within, warm and inviting, and for a moment Samuel just sat in his car, staring at it.How much of this would still be theirs in a year? In six months?He forced himself to get out and walk inside.His son Hank was wait

Upstairs in the master bedroom, Samuel Watson sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. His wife was already asleep beside him, oblivious to the turmoil churning through his mind.The conversation with Tony kept replaying in his thoughts. The offer of alliance. The possibility of fighting back. The chance—however slim—of salvaging something from this disaster.He'd said no. He'd been firm about it. Logical, even. Moving against the Colemans was suicide.But now, in the quiet darkness of his room, doubt crept in.Samuel pulled out his phone and opened the World Elite Registry notification that had been sent to all major families earlier that day. Pervis Tyler's face stared back at him—young, unassuming, completely ordinary looking. And yet this man had destroyed the Watsons' business relationships with a single phone call.Not this man, Samuel corrected himself. William Coleman acting through this man.That was the key point. Pervis himself was inexperienced, newly returned to