Everything Freya said was perfectly reasonable.The problem was, Stuart Thompson wasn’t. If he were, he wouldn’t have been dragging out the payment for months.“Miss Freya, I’ve been more than polite. From the moment you walked in, I never said your goods were subpar. But are you honestly unaware of what you’re selling? Do you really want me to spell it out?”“You think Summit Group is easy to bully? You dump a pile of dead stock on us and call it business?”The words were vicious enough to sting, and Freya’s composure slipped—especially with a “new hire” like Adrian watching.Her face cooled. “So Mr. Thompson intends to end our partnership? Hill Group may be going through a rough patch, but it won’t stymie Miss Daisy for long. When we get past this, won’t you regret it?”Stuart sipped his coffee at leisure. “Regret? Don’t insult me. I know your situation. Without that cosmeceutical sales license, the Hill family will always play second fiddle to the Sanders family.”“Oh? Sorry to dis

In the empty alley, several burly men in black lay sprawled at Adrian’s feet.“Still not talking?” Adrian twisted one man’s arm without expression. Sweat beaded across the man’s brow under the pain.“R-Russell Sanders sent us…”“See? Would’ve been easier to say that sooner.”Adrian shook his head, picked up the bag he’d set aside, and strode out of the alley. He’d barely reached the street when his phone rang.“Hello—”Before he could speak, Freya’s voice tumbled through the line, breathless. “Adrian, I just saw Russell Sanders at our office. He’s here for Miss Daisy again, I’m sure of it. Get back. Now!”“On my way.”He flagged a car and headed for the company at speed.…Hill Group, President’s Office.“Miss Daisy, you look as composed as ever. I wonder if you’ll keep your poise when you see your company’s losses,” Russell Sanders drawled, his greasy smile making the air feel unclean.“If you came only to say that, Mr. Sanders, you can leave.” Daisy didn’t bother to look up at him.

Daisy’s urgency spiked; she grabbed Adrian’s arm to stop him. “Are you crazy? He’s not some random thug—he’s a trained fighter. Go inside, now!”Adrian only smiled, a faint lift of the shoulders as he gently moved Daisy aside and stepped forward. “Him? A so-called martial artist? Spare me.”At that, Camden Tate’s brows pinched with irritation. He gave Adrian a slow, haughty once-over. Arrogance was his second skin.To him, this wiry kid barely warranted contempt. He’d already reached the Master Tier. A special forces soldier was one punch to him; what was this string bean?That was the source of his swagger.“The Hill family has its moments,” Camden drawled, “but crossing the Mafia won’t profit you. This punk laid hands on Jefferson—he slapped the Mafia across the face. I can’t ignore that. Otherwise, how do I hold Skyline’s east side? How do I explain it to my men? Miss Daisy, my advice: don’t meddle.”It sounded righteous, but the truth was simpler: the Sanders family paid handsomel

“What? After that brat spat in the Mafia’s face, you want to recruit him instead of striking back?”“Boss, forget avenging Camden Tate—those few sentences alone are an insult we can’t swallow.”The upper echelon bristled, pushing Quentin Newman to rethink. Even Conrad Owen let his smile die. The Five Tigers rose and fell together; Camden’s humiliating defeat left a bitter taste that demanded redress.“Adrian Doyle, a nobody, cripples Camden Tate—and we go to woo him? We lose the upper hand immediately. If he refuses…”Conrad didn’t finish. The thought dragged everyone down. If Adrian spurned the Mafia, their reputation would take a public dent.Quentin understood the risk—and still chose his course. “One Adrian, by himself, means little. But a man with his gifts may draw Lord Buddha’s eye.”They all grasped it now. The Mafia’s current standing was largely thanks to Lord Buddha. And the reason Lord Buddha favored them was simple: they were strong.Constantly bringing in rare talent—tha

Jacob Newman’s arrogance evaporated, replaced by a grave expression that set everyone on edge.As Daisy uncapped the porcelain vial, a clean, invigorating fragrance of herbs unfurled in the room.A lineage that had lived and breathed medicine for generations could discern truth from scent alone—especially its heir, Jacob Newman.This was no ordinary thing.“Mr. Newman, you recognize it?”One look at Jacob’s face told Daisy she’d bet right.Adrian hadn’t lied to her.“Rhodiola. This is a beauty-enhancing formula with rhodiola as its primary ingredient.”With so many ancient recipes lost to time, later generations could only study, imitate, and approximate. In the realm of beauty and skincare, products centered on rhodiola were legion—yet results had always fallen short.Jacob, visibly stirred, stepped toward Daisy. “Miss Daisy, may I examine the product?”Daisy knew the formula was no trifling matter. But if Jacob wanted to authenticate it for free—why refuse?“If I’m not mistaken,” he