John took a deep breath, forcing himself to straighten his back. Though his face was still pale, he made an effort to appear composed. He even crossed his arms over his chest, as if trying to reclaim a sense of security that had just collapsed.“Do you know who you’re dealing with?” he said coldly, though a faint tremor slipped through his voice despite his attempt to hide it.“I’m the son-in-law of a well-known doctor. His influence is considerable. And I have no shortage of powerful backers. If you think you can intimidate me here all by yourself.”“I don’t care,” Tyson cut him off flatly, impatience unmistakable in his eyes.The way he stood, relaxed posture, loose shoulders, his gaze almost drifting, made one thing painfully clear, he genuinely did not care about John’s bluster. It wasn’t an act, nor an empty threat. The names, titles, and networks John boasted about were nothing more than meaningless words to him.John’s speech faltered.He swallowed, then let out a small laugh

In the calm of those days, Tyson’s thoughts drifted instead toward something darker.Tyson had once caught someone tailing him. Yet after that incident, the shadow never truly disappeared. It still appeared from time to time, at the corner of a street, in the reflection of glass, in footsteps that lagged just a fraction too late. And Tyson let it be.He pretended not to notice.Not out of carelessness, but because he wanted to see how far that person would dare to go and who would eventually emerge from behind them.But over the past two weeks, the sense of being watched had vanished entirely. There was no longer that faint presence that usually surfaced whenever he deliberately took random routes or lingered longer than necessary.And that was precisely what made Tyson wary.“So you’re finally done,” he murmured softly, his fingers tapping against the rim of a cup of coffee that had long gone cold. “Or have you already found what you were looking for from me?”Two possibilities forme

The weekend finally arrived.True to his word, Mr. Lay really did come to pick Tyson up. However, instead of riding in the same vehicle, they traveled separately. Mr. Lay drove his own car, while Tyson was behind the wheel of another, an elegant black sedan that was clearly not his usual ride.Anna sat in the passenger seat, resting her elbow against the window while glancing at the car’s interior with a faint smile.The car was obviously rented, but from an expensive, luxury class. It was no random choice. Tyson had done it deliberately. At events like this, access was often granted by first impressions, and those impressions almost always began with what people could see, cars, watches, the way one dressed.Several wealthy figures would be present that night, people accustomed to judging someone’s worth by outward shine alone.Their destination was the Southern District, in the old harbor area.There, a massive yacht was already docked, its lights glowing brightly against the humid

Mr. Hale’s trusted man maintained his thin smile and said calmly, “Mr. Hale is waiting for you in the private room.”There was no further explanation, yet that single sentence was enough to turn a small ripple into a heavy, silent current. Gazes followed them openly now, no longer bothering to hide. Curiosity, disbelief, and caution mixed in the air.Tyson did not rush. He turned slightly and, unlike most people would, reached out and took Anna’s hand. His fingers were warm, his grip firm. Not to show off, not merely for protection, but as a quiet statement that he had not come alone.Anna was startled for a brief moment, but she did not pull her hand away. She walked at Tyson’s side, matching his pace, her back straight even as her heart beat faster. From the corner of her eye, she could feel the weight of attention clinging to every step they took.Mr. Lay lagged a few steps behind, his expression stiff. He knew well that from that moment on, the balance of their positions had shift

Anna was not the type of good girl, naive, innocent, and easily fooled. From the very first word that slipped from the man’s mouth, she caught the meaning behind it: the way his gaze swept over her body, the overly casual tone, the smile that carried too much confidence.To be honest, an old impulse stirred inside her.The urge to toy with him. Just like before, back in Pueblo, during the days when she treated self-important men as entertainment, until her name became tangled with a reputation she never truly bothered to deny.Anna almost opened her mouth, almost replied with a sweet, poisonous smile.But when she lifted her gaze, she caught sight of Tyson’s silhouette in the distance.He stood alone in the corner of the room, his back to the light, expression calm yet closed off. People knew. Everyone in that room knew she was with Tyson.And for the first time in a long while, Anna held herself back, not out of fear, not out of hesitation, but out of choice.Her reputation now also