The sudden vibration of the butler's cellphone shattered his spiraling thoughts.The butler frowned, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the secure device.It was a text message from an unlisted, completely encrypted number.He tapped the screen, and his eyes instantly widened as he read the single line of text:[The name you seek is Alistair Reid. He resides at the cliffside villa provided by Caleb Bolton.]The butler froze, his breath catching in his throat. Alistair Reid.A name entirely unfamiliar to the high-society circles of the Southern Province, yet tied directly to Caleb Bolton—the business tycoon of Riverdale.The puzzle pieces instantly clicked into place. The mysterious "scholar" wasn't a wandering hermit; he was backed by local finance, masking his identity behind Master Xie's artistic prestige."Driver! Speed up!" the butler roared, a sudden surge of adrenaline completely erasing his previous dread. "Return to the estate immediately! I have the target's name!"Me

Tristan looked remarkably well-recovered, though a trace of subtle makeup still masked the residual bruising on his jawline from the brutal beating he had suffered just days prior."Tristan?" Sara blinked in surprise, her eyes widening as she walked down the stairs. "What are you doing out of the hospital? You were supposed to be under medical observation for at least another week. You shouldn't be walking around, let alone dressed for a gala!""Sara, please, do you honestly think a few minor bruises could keep me away today?" Tristan chuckled softly, his voice carrying an impeccably practiced tone of humble dedication.He took a step forward, adjusting his cuffs with an air of noble sacrifice. "Tonight is the culmination of my life's work. The Connor Group is about to reveal a cure that will rewrite the history of oncology and save millions of lives. I would gladly crawl out of a burning building to see my formula finally given to the world."Hearing his words, Sara felt a wave of de

The moment Alistair crossed the threshold, the old wooden doors creaking softly under his weight, Beggar John snapped his head up. Recognizing the familiar aura, Beggar John quickly stepped out from behind his low counter, ushering Alistair into a private back room and sealing the heavy bamboo curtains behind them.“Sir, you are here. The heavens must be smiling on me for you to visit me.” Beggar John remarked. “That remains to be seen,” Alistair said as he glanced around. “You weren't available today.”“Indeed, I wasn't. The sect sent out a missive for all Beggars to go into hiding for the time being.” Beggar John said in an almost regretful tone.”“That so? “Indeed, but there's no need to worry. Once I got the missive, I told my assistant to inform you about my whereabouts should you come looking for me," Beggar John spoke in a hushed, reverent tone, bowing deeply. "First, allow me to offer my humblest congratulations. Your performance at the spirit painting exhibition was nothin

"Now that your mind is clear," Alistair continued, his voice returning to its calm, imperial cadence, "you must act as if nothing has changed. Whoever planted that core in you will be monitoring your behavior. If they realize you have broken free from its influence, they will either eliminate you or accelerate their plans before we are ready."Beggar John swallowed hard, forcing his breathing to slow down as he dragged his fractured composure back together.He was a veteran of the martial underworld, but realizing the very foundation beneath his feet was rotted out made him feel like a novice standing on a crumbling cliff."I... I understand, Sir," John said, forcing his hands to stop shaking as he stood up, bowing deeply to Alistair. "I will maintain the facade. I will play the part of the senile, foggy-headed beggar. But I don't understand. Why would they target me? I am no elder and though I have some influence, it is nothing compared to the elders.”“I reckon it is because of me.”

"Patrick, don't waste your breath arguing with a beggar," Jocelyn interrupted, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.She crossed her arms, her manicured nails digging into the premium leather of her designer handbag.She glared at Alistair as if he were a stain on her pristine floor. "Look at you. Sneaking into a high-end supermarket in Haven, probably using the last bits of change Sara left you in the divorce settlement. Let me tell you something, Alistair. Tonight is the Connor Group's grand launch. Tristan is presenting a cure that will make our family globally famous. We are entering the highest echelons of the southern province, while you... You will always be a nobody buying groceries alone in the dark."She took a step closer, her eyes flashing with a predatory greed. "But before we cut ties completely, you will compensate us. I don't care if you have to sell your organs or beg on the streets. You ruined Sara's public image and you caused Tristan to be hospitalized by your thugg