As soon as Donald was informed by his team of investigators that Don Lewis was the one who had orchestrated Laura Harrington’s death, his hands clenched into tight fists. His jaw locked, his knuckles whitening, and a cold fury coursed through every fiber of his being. The revelation was more than just a confirmation—it was a provocation. He had believed, perhaps naively, that the Lewis family, after suffering their previous humiliations and failures against him, would have been deterred from further aggression. He had assumed that reason, logic, and fear of retribution would keep them from targeting the Harringtons again. Yet, the Lewis family had not only ignored all lessons but had amplified their greed and cruelty, crossing lines that should never have been tested.Donald paced the length of his study, the polished hardwood floor echoing under his measured steps. The city lights filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting sharp, angular streaks across the walls, painting

Don’s lips curled into a subtle but menacing smirk as he leaned back in his chair, the ambient light from the office casting sharp shadows across his face. “I want DeGrand Corporation to be transferred to my family within the next one month,” he said, letting the words hang in the air like a deadly promise. Each syllable was deliberate, heavy with authority, and filled with the kind of quiet menace that brooked no opposition. “If it isn’t, then it becomes history. Understood?” There was a pause on the other end of the line. The faint hum of a fan in the background was the only sound accompanying the tension that seemed to thicken with every passing second. The executive on the line, a seasoned man with decades in corporate finance, felt a cold sweat prick his brow. His hands trembled slightly, barely noticeable, as he adjusted his grip on the phone. “Why… why would you want to do that, Don?” he asked cautiously, trying desperately to mask the fear creeping into his voice. Don’s growl

Ivy glanced at the screen. It was one of her subordinates. She answered immediately. “Yes?” The voice on the other end sounded tense, almost strained under pressure. “Ma’am… we have a situation.” Ivy’s brows furrowed. “What is it?” There was a brief hesitation, like the speaker was choosing their words carefully, before finally saying, “One of our major investors has just withdrawn.” Ivy froze. “What?” “Their legal team just sent the notice. They’re pulling out completely—effective immediately.” Ivy’s grip tightened around the phone, her fingers pressing into the device as if trying to hold everything together through sheer force. “That’s impossible,” she said, her voice low but firm. “They’ve been with us for years.” “I know, ma’am,” the subordinate replied nervously. “But they said they’ve lost confidence in the company’s current stability.” Confidence. That word again. Ivy’s chest tightened, a heavy weight settling over her. “Did they give any further explanation?” sh

Donald stood still for a brief moment after hearing the first part of the report, his fingers resting lightly against the edge of his desk. Beyond the glass walls of his office, the city stretched endlessly—lights beginning to flicker on as evening deepened—but his focus had shifted entirely to the voice on the phone. “You said you’ve found the major culprit,” Donald said, his tone calm but edged with quiet curiosity. “Who is it?” On the other end, the man he had assigned to the investigation hesitated—not out of doubt, but because he understood the weight of what he was about to reveal. This was no ordinary discovery. It was something that would change the entire direction of the situation. “Sir… it’s someone inside DeGrand Corporation.” Donald’s eyes narrowed slightly, but his expression remained composed. “I assumed as much,” he replied. “Be specific.” There was a brief pause. Then the answer came. “It’s one of their top executives.” The room seemed to grow even quieter tha

The sound of the phone hitting the table echoed sharply across the dining room, cutting through the silence like a sudden crack. For a brief moment, everything seemed to freeze in place, as though time itself had paused to absorb what had just happened. Victor Hale stared at the device, his eyes fixed on it as if trying to process the sheer boldness of the act. Slowly, he lifted his gaze back to Donald. What had just unfolded began to settle in—not just the intrusion into his home, not just the accusation thrown at him, but the audacity of it all. Rage surged through him. “How dare you,” Victor growled, his voice trembling with fury. His fingers curled tightly into fists as he stepped forward, his carefully maintained composure finally shattering. The calm, calculated executive who had orchestrated chaos from the shadows was gone. In his place stood a man cornered, angry, and desperate to regain control of a situation that had slipped from his grasp. “You think you can walk into m