Dave chuckled, dropped his spoon, and leaned back in his chair.“Geez… was I really that obvious?” he asked, sounding like a mouse that just got caught in a trap. He rubbed his temple with his thumb. “Well, you already know why, Sophia. Marry me.”Sophia laughed and settled comfortably in her seat.“You seriously haven’t moved on? How many times do I have to reject you?” she said, blunt and unbothered.Years ago, she used to speak gently to Dave. Even when she knew he liked her, she never took advantage of his feelings—especially not for business. He used to be one of her closest friends. Whatever she asked for—or didn’t ask for—he always found a way to give.But that changed. The moment he lost control and snapped after finding out she was engaged, everything shifted. Her family insisted she stay away from him, and she agreed. Dave could be… unstable—especially when he didn’t get what he wanted.Dave went quiet. He stared hard at her.“How am I supposed to move on, Sophia? And why

The arena lights dimmed until only the cage was bathed in cold, white brightness. Every cheer, every chant, every rich spectator leaning forward in anticipation—it all blurred into one pounding storm of noise.Carl stepped into the center of the cage with steady, measured footsteps.His opponent—a mountain of muscle wrapped in scars—cracked his neck to the side, the metal claws on his right glove scraping together like a warning.“Name’s Kruger,” the man growled. “I rip people open for a living.”Carl simply looked at him. “Sounds messy.”Kruger barked a laugh. “I like you. Too bad I’ll be wearing your spine as a necklace after.”From the sidelines, Sophia gasped. “CARL!”Dave just grinned. “Relax. If he dies, at least he dies entertainingly.”Sophia elbowed him—hard.Kruger charged first—no warm-up, no hesitation—just a full-on bull rush with murderous intent. His steel-lined fist came swinging toward Carl’s skull.Carl didn’t even wait.He slipped under the punch, smooth as flowing

As soon as Carl opened his eyes, the room seemed to hold its breath.Dave’s men stepped aside, forming a narrow path toward the hallway—the same dim corridor that smelled of sweat, blood, and the metallic chill of the underground arena. Sophia stood immediately, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was echoing in her ears.“Carl… please,” she whispered, voice trembling despite her best attempts to sound strong. “This round is not like the first one. They called him ‘The Breaker.’ No one lasted five minutes with him.”Carl only gave a small nod, calm in a way that both terrified and amazed her. “Then I’ll just have to last longer.”Dave grinned, as if the fear in Sophia’s voice delighted him. “Let’s go, champion.”They moved.The arena was louder this time—hundreds of voices merging into one monstrous roar. And at the center of the concrete ring stood the next fighter.A massive man, shaved head, arms covered in black ink. His knuckles cracked like breaking wood. His nose had cle

Jasmine was busy scanning the project proposal, flipping through each page with sharp focus. They were finally preparing to begin construction of the Velmora Smart District—their biggest, boldest undertaking for the next five years.It wouldn’t be easy, but this project would be her defining moment. Her big break.She was deep into reviewing the financial section when her office door suddenly burst open.“Mom? Why are you—”Ophelia rolled her eyes dramatically. “Why do you always look like you’re not happy to see me, hm?”Jasmine let out a tired sigh. “I’m working, Mom. What do you need?”Ophelia walked over to her desk, planting both hands confidently on the surface like she owned the place.“Guess who’s with me right now.”Jasmine paused, lifting a confused brow at her.“…Who?”“Come in!” Ophelia called toward the door.Jasmine looked up—and froze.A tall man walked in, wearing a brown long coat over a white shirt and matching brown slacks. He looked like a matinee idol who just ste

Carl sterilized the scalpel again, preparing to reopen the vein—but Marion suddenly jerked his arm away like a scared toddler at vaccination day.“Wait—WAIT!” Marion almost leapt off the chair. “No, no, no! I already did this once! And look at me—I’m still dying!”Sophia folded her arms, unimpressed. “Uncle, you are not dying. You’re dramatic.”“I am dramatic because I am dying!” Marion snapped back.Carl sighed patiently. “Mayor. Your symptoms got worse because someone poisoned you again. Bloodletting isn’t a cure. It’s temporary pain relief. You want relief, or do you want to keep crying in the ER every hour?”Marion clutched his stomach, torn between fear and pride. “But—can’t you do something less… medieval? Something that doesn’t involve blood in a bowl?!”“No,” Carl said flatly.“Nope,” Sophia echoed, just to annoy him.Marion groaned. “Fine! But—”Sophia suddenly smirked, stepping forward with the grace of someone about to ruin a man’s life.“Uncle,” she said sweetly, “how abou