The following months marked a turning point for Nelson. Life after the party wasn’t just about fame or recognition anymore — it was about purpose. He had stepped into a new chapter, one that demanded more than words or charm. For the first time, he was truly facing what it meant to be part of the Cassius family. Every morning, Nelson woke before sunrise, dressed sharply, and followed his grandfather into the family’s towering glass office downtown. The Cassius Empire stretched across industries — finance, construction, technology, and real estate. Nelson felt the weight of generations pressing on his shoulders. Yet, strangely, it didn’t scare him. It fueled him. He started from the bottom, sitting quietly in meetings, absorbing every detail — the negotiations, the strategy, the way his grandfather’s calm voice could turn tension into respect. Slowly, Nelson began to speak up. Sometimes his ideas were dismissed, other times, they silenced the entire boardroom. “Not bad,” his grand

The morning breeze was calm, yet something in the air felt heavy — like the city itself knew a storm was coming. Nelson stood by the window of his office, staring at the skyline that stretched endlessly before him. The Cassius Empire was at its strongest peak, but his heart felt uneasy. Lately, he had been having strange dreams — his childhood home, the sound of his mother’s voice, then flames, and darkness. Every time he woke, his hands trembled, and a chill ran down his spine. He turned when Tony, his assistant and the man who once rescued him, entered quietly. “Sir,” Tony said, holding a small brown envelope. “This came in the morning courier. It’s marked private. No return address.” Nelson frowned. “Private? From who?” Tony shrugged. “I checked the handwriting — it’s old, maybe someone from the family’s early days.” Nelson took the envelope. The paper was aged, edges yellowed. He hesitated for a moment, then tore it open. Inside was a single photograph — one he had never se

The Cassius mansion was unusually quiet that morning. Even the sound of the fountain outside seemed distant. Nelson stood by his window, staring at the skyline he once ruled with ease. Now, every deal felt like a battlefield.He already knew who was behind the chaos — his uncle and Kyler. The betrayal didn’t surprise him anymore. What hurt most was how calculated it all was. Every rumor, every fake report, every investor pulling out — it all had their fingerprints.“Grandfather, three contracts gone overnight,” Nelson said, walking into the study. “They’re closing in faster than I expected.”The old man didn’t look up from his papers. “That’s what happens when wolves smell blood. They think the Cassius family has gone soft.”Nelson’s jaw tightened. “I’m not letting them win. Not after everything they took from us.”His grandfather leaned back in the chair, his voice firm but calm. “Then fight wisely. Not with emotion — with control. Remember, the most dangerous man in the room is the

Sir, we have tried our best. We have looked everywhere — all the locations, even CCTV have been checked — and all the places we traced show no trace. But, sir, we can assure you that we are trying our best. “Trying your best?” Nelson shouted angrily as he hit the table. “Don't tell me you are trying your best — my fiancée has been kidnapped for three days now and you are telling me you have tried your fucking best, "sir please be calm we assure you we will get her back" Nelson, with all the pain inside him, shouted back. His eyes showed the hurt; every vein in his neck stood out as if he was ready to fight. “Don't tell me to calm down, okay? How do you expect me to be goddamn calm when someone I'm supposed to marry is kidnapped?” Miguel and Robby quietly held his shoulders and tried to soothe him. “It's okay. Jane's fine. Let's just go home and make a better plan.” Robby went back to one of the officers. “Officer, we know you're trying, but please—you have to do better. My

Nelson’s head was pounding like a damn drum. Every sound in that room echoed deep inside his skull. The rusty chains on his wrists rattled each time he tried to move, cutting into his skin. His vision was still blurry, but he could make out Jane beside him—pale, weak, her eyes swollen from crying. Seeing her like that made something burn hot inside him. Kyler’s laughter still echoed in his ears. That bastard had finally shown his true colors, and Nelson was done pretending. He wasn’t scared anymore. He just wanted blood—Kyler’s and his uncle’s. They thought they’d won, but Nelson still had fire left in him. He was going to break free, even if it killed him. Beep. Beep. Beep. A small red light blinked faintly on Nelson’s shirt. “Nelson… what’s that blinking on your cloth?” Jane asked weakly. Nelson looked down and froze. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. It was a tracker. Miguel and Robby must’ve planted it on him. “Damn it,” Nelson hissed. “I told those idiots not to. They’