Anne had never been one to hold back her opinions, and now, standing firmly in the Marion family’s living room, she insisted, “I know exactly what I’m talking about. The company Brandon is managing—he renamed it ‘Green Textile.’ That’s the new name. The old name was ‘Eastern Fabrics.’ I’ve been tracking the reports and the trade bulletins, and I’m telling you, the company Brandon is managing is performing extraordinarily well under his leadership.” Her words, meant to inspire awe and admiration for Brandon, were instead met with skepticism and outright derision from the rest of the Marion family. The atmosphere in the room, usually calm and composed during family gatherings, became tense, almost electric, as every eye turned toward Anne with a mix of disbelief and subtle amusement. “That name doesn’t match the company we assigned Brandon,” her uncle Bernard scoffed, crossing his arms with a look of incredulity. “Eastern Fabrics is the company, and that’s what everyone knows.

The morning sun filtered through the large, ornate windows of the Marion family mansion, casting a golden glow across the polished marble floors. Dust motes floated lazily in the beams of light, adding a surreal calm to the otherwise tense atmosphere. The air was thick with anticipation, charged with the quiet energy of expectation. Today marked the end of the one-month period Jude had set—a month that would decide the future, a month that would determine who would earn Jessica’s hand in marriage: Brandon Scott, the man she loved, or Alexander, the man her family had long favored. Every detail, every glance, every gesture would matter today, and neither man could predict exactly what awaited them.Brandon arrived first, his footsteps measured but confident as he crossed the mansion’s polished foyer. The weight of recent events pressed on his mind, yet his composure remained intact. The news of the blackmail, the viral reports alleging corruption, and the subtle doubts sown by Alexande

The Marion mansion buzzed with noise the moment Jude rose to his feet and cleared his throat. The instant he declared that Alexander had emerged victorious in the month-long challenge, the atmosphere shifted violently, like a storm breaking all at once. Chairs scraped harshly against the polished marble floor as family members leapt up in excitement. Applause thundered through the hall, mingling with cheers, whistles, and triumphant laughter. Some clapped until their palms reddened, others rushed across the room to embrace one another, caught up in the thrill of what they believed was a decisive victory.“Alexander! Alexander! Alexander!” voices rang out in unison, the chant swelling and echoing against the ornate walls, climbing the high ceilings, and reverberating through the chandeliers above. It was loud, overwhelming, and relentless, as though the name itself had become a symbol of triumph that everyone was desperate to align themselves with.Evelyn, Jessica’s mother, was practic

The tension in the Marion Mansion had not abated, even after Brandon had spoken calmly and clearly about the viral news. The room remained heavy with suspicion, the kind of thick, stifling air that made it almost impossible to breathe freely. Chandeliers overhead cast fractured light across the polished marble floors, bouncing off the ornate furniture and gilded walls, yet even the beauty of the mansion could not soften the atmosphere. Family members shifted uneasily in their seats, their eyes darting between Brandon and one another, seeking confirmation in each other’s expressions. Every breath seemed measured, every glance deliberate, as though even the smallest motion could tip the fragile balance of this confrontation. Dave, Jessica’s younger brother, continued. He leaned forward, elbows braced firmly on his knees, fists gripping the fabric of his pants. His face was contorted with frustration and anger, the tension in his jaw visible even across the distance. “Brandon,”

Slowly, deliberately, Brandon unzipped the bag. The faint sound of the zipper echoed in the tense silence of the living hall, loud enough to draw every eye to his hands. Inside, nestled carefully as though their contents carried immense weight, was a sleek phone and a small, compact device that unmistakably resembled a projector. Brandon lifted them out one at a time and placed both on the center table with meticulous care, aligning them neatly as though order itself mattered in a room drowning in chaos and judgment.The atmosphere instantly shifted, turning electric. Family members who had been sitting rigidly now leaned slightly forward, curiosity fighting against skepticism. The earlier jeers and mutters were gone, replaced by a charged quiet that pressed in from every side. Even those who had been most vocal moments earlier now watched closely, wondering what Brandon intended to reveal and whether he truly had the courage to back his claims.Jessica stood beside Brandon, her hands