Charles stared at the young man seated across from him, and for several seconds, he couldn't find the words to speak.His mind raced through every possible price he might have to pay for his daughter's life.Was it going to be money? Properties? Companies? Perhaps Connections?Charles shook his head firmly.If this man could truly save Juliette, he was prepared to give him almost everything he possessed.Finally, he forced himself to speak."Mr. Sebastian..."Sebastian raised his eyes toward him, his expression calm and unreadable. His fingers rested lightly against the armrests of the high-backed chair, tapping softly in an intimidating rhythm."What do you want?" Charles asked. "I can offer you money, as much as you want.”“Whatever figure you name, I can arrange it." His voice was steady, but the desperation beneath it was impossible to conceal."I'm not asking for money." Sebastian replied coldly and remained expressionless.Charles froze.He had been prepared to hear an astronomic

The Rutherford Banquet had entered its later stages, but the atmosphere had lost none of its energy. If anything, the conversations had become more intense.The initial excitement surrounding the arrival of the major guests had gradually given way to something far more valuable to the people gathered inside the estate—business.At the Gold Section, businessmen and corporate representatives leaned toward one another over half-empty wine glasses, speaking in hushed but eager voices."Your company already has the construction licence?" Sam, a portly man in his fifties, leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with interest."Yes, but we're short on financing. The capital requirements for the Eastern Gateway project are higher than we anticipated." Collins, another businessman in his early forties, replied dejectedly."Then combine your bid with ours." Sam smiled, extending his hand. "We can handle the financing while you handle the permits, and we split the profit sixty-forty."Collins, the youn

Meanwhile, inside the Onyx Section, Sebastian remained seated for a short while longer.Bruce stood several steps behind him, his broad frame a silent wall of protection, while several Nine Dragons personnel remained positioned around the secluded area, their presence unobtrusive but unmistakable.Sebastian's expression was calm yet unreadable.The evening had given him more information than he had expected.The Harlan representative had been identified. Marcus Harlan was now a known quantity—a face to watch and a name to track. The Blackthorn family had revealed themselves to be considerably more cautious than ordinary businessmen. They were careful, deliberate, and clearly watching Cloud City with their own agenda. Charles Montclair had also agreed to owe him a favor—a debt that could prove invaluable in the days ahead.There was also Juliette.Sebastian glanced briefly toward Charles, who had remained standing nearby, his earlier exhaustion now softened by a fragile hope."I'll e

The cab pulled up to the Montclair Manor gates as the snow began to fall, thin and unhurried, as they drifted down from the grey sky.Sebastian stepped out onto the frozen gravel, his breath misting in the cold air. He paid the driver and adjusted his coat before stepping past the towering steel gates.As he approached the main entrance, the heavy oak doors swung open, and Elvis, the tall, silver-haired butler stepped out, his posture immaculate and his expression composed.He moved with the quiet authority of someone who had spent decades serving the Montclair family."Mr. Cross?" Elvis asked, his voice measured and respectful.Sebastian nodded. "Yes.""This way, please."Sebastian followed him through the grand hallway, maintaining a serene temperament as they went past towering ceilings and crystal chandeliers, and a sweeping staircase and down a long corridor lined with oil paintings of stern-faced ancestors.They walked for a few more minutes before stopping at a set of double doo

Charles frowned.“Something else?”“Yes.”“I showed you everything important.”“You showed me everything you consider important.”Charles stared at him.“What does that mean?”Sebastian didn’t answer.He walked toward the far corner of the vault.Charles followed.“There’s nothing valuable over there,” he said.Sebastian continued forward.There were several wooden cabinets along the wall.They were old and considerably less impressive than the polished glass cases occupying the center of the vault.Charles looked at them.“Those contain some old family records and miscellaneous objects. Nothing particularly important.”Sebastian stopped.The sensation was stronger now.Still weak.But unmistakable.He turned toward one of the cabinets.“What’s inside?”Charles looked at it.“I’m not entirely sure.”“You don’t know?”“Not everything in this vault is catalogued.”Sebastian stared at the cabinet.“Open it.”Charles walked over.He opened the cabinet doors.Inside were several wooden box