As soon as Sophia accepted Ethan’s proposal, Ethan pulled Sophia into a warm embrace. The following morning, Ethan sat behind the desk at his office, reviewing reports, but even as he scanned the numbers and projections, his mind was already focused on one task: supporting Sophia’s company, Reckon International, and ensuring it regained its position among the city’s elite corporations. Picking up his phone with deliberate ease, he dialed his secretary, a sharp and efficient woman named Marianne. The sound of the line connecting echoed faintly in the otherwise quiet office. “Marianne, I want the funds we secured from Brolin Company to be transferred immediately to Reckon International’s account. Make sure it’s reflected as Caldwell Enterprises’ support for her company. Do not delay,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of someone used to being obeyed. Marianne typed notes into her tablet as she spoke. “Understood, Mr. Caldwell. I’ll process the transfer and confirm

Ethan sat across from Sophia, his posture relaxed, and his attention seemingly fixed on every word she spoke. He listened as she poured out her resentment toward Brandon, her voice edged with bitterness and long-suppressed frustration. Outwardly, Ethan appeared calm and supportive, the picture of a patient confidant. Inwardly, satisfaction spread through him like a slow, warming fire. This was perfect. Every accusation Sophia made and every sharp dismissal of Brandon’s character, only reinforced what Ethan had already known. She had no idea who Brandon truly was. She spoke of him as though he were small, inconsequential, a footnote in her past rather than a force to be reckoned with. And that ignorance was precisely what made this moment so valuable. Brandon Scott—Ethan’s greatest rival in the business world. Not a failed husband, not a powerless man clinging to relevance, but a strategist whose influence had quietly shaped markets, investments, and acquisitions for years.

The news broke like a sudden storm, sweeping across the city with terrifying speed and leaving confusion and fear in its wake. At first, it appeared almost insignificant, no more than a whisper circulating on obscure business blogs and anonymous forums. Short posts hinted that something was wrong at Brolin Company, one of the fastest-rising pharmaceutical firms in the region. The claims were vague at first, carefully worded to sound like insider leaks rather than outright accusations. But whispers, once released, rarely stay quiet. Within hours, the rumors began to grow teeth. Screenshots of supposed internal memos surfaced online, shared and reshared across platforms. The documents appeared official enough to fool the casual observer, stamped with logos and dates that looked authentic at a glance. Grainy images of mislabeled cartons followed, accompanied by captions that questioned how such errors could exist in a company that claimed strict quality control. Then came th

Brandon smirked. “Predictable,” he muttered under his breath. Ethan truly believed that this time, he had struck deep enough to bring him down. He believed the rumors, the financial hemorrhage, the sudden betrayal of allies would finally break Brandon Scott. He imagined panic, frantic phone calls, desperate denials, maybe even a retreat from the battlefield. That assumption alone proved how little Ethan understood the man he was dealing with. Brandon had never survived by reacting emotionally. He survived by calculating and by striking only when the outcome was already decided. Brandon turned away from the window and walked back to his desk with measured, unhurried steps. He picked up his phone with the calm of someone that already knew how the story would end, and then, he dialed a number from memory. The line connected almost immediately. “Tell Ethan Caldwell this: he has exactly five hours to repair everything he has destroyed. Every false report. Every planted headli

The officers moved purposefully toward them, their faces impassive, professional, and utterly unyielding. “Sir, you are under arrest,” one of the men said bluntly, standing directly in front of Ethan. The words hit him like a thunderclap. He blinked rapidly, trying to process what was happening. “What? Arrest? This must be some kind of mistake!” Ethan exclaimed, his voice trembling slightly despite his attempt to maintain his usual composed demeanor. He exchanged a frantic glance with Sophia, who mirrored his shock. Her eyes widened as her mind raced—this was unexpected, terrifying even. “Sir, you will remain silent,” the officer said firmly. “Anything you say from this moment will be used against you in a court of law. You are to follow us immediately.” Ethan’s mouth opened, ready to protest, to call in favors, or to use the connections that had always worked in his favor. But the officer’s unwavering gaze silenced him. The gravity of the situation began to sink in. Nothin