The storm raging didn't wait for Lawrence to knock.It slammed against the mansion's glass walls like a furious witness, drenched him severely as he stood before the gleaming black doors of the Edwards' estate—his wife's family home. His knuckles stung from pounding so aggressively on the door.His jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.He wasn't supposed to be there, not like that, trembling with betrayal, furious and humiliated.Rebecca's parents had used him from the very beginning of the marriage.And now, they wanted to use him again.This time he wouldn't stand for it.When the door finally opened, a maid stood before him, timid, and wearing pity and embarrassment on her face."Sir," she said, as if his mere presence was an abomination."We weren't expecting you here so early—"He pushed past her."I live here, what the fuck do you mean 'not expecting me'?"She scurried behind him, hand placed in front of her, trembling in fear.He saw Rebecca's mother, Stella, sitting next to her hus

The rain hadn't stopped.Lawrence walked slowly down the long driveway of the Edwards' mansion, each step sinking into thick mud, the headlights from the grand house behind him fading until they were nothing but a faint glow swallowed by darkness.His clothes clung to his skin, his hair dripped water onto his face. He could still hear Jordan's mocking voice echoing in his head — "she was never really yours to begin with."The words repeated in his head over and over again, till they were burned into his brain.He clenched his fists until his nails dug into his palms. The pain helped him stay awake, helped him keep dragging his feet on asphalt. He didn't even know where to go. No home. No friends. No family. And no money.Only humiliation, shame, disgrace and betrayal.When he finally reached the edge of the street, he saw his car, his once beloved silver Toyota. He remembered the exact day he got it. Now it was half broken down from years of overuse and lack of maintenance.One of the

The boardroom was enormous, polished oak wood tables, walls lined with gold plaques and global awards.The air smelled of expensive cologne, power and wealth.Around the table, fifteen board members were seated, all dressed in designer suits.An older man with silver hair and sharp eyes spoke first. "This is the long-awaited heir?" He said in disgust. "He looks like he drives a deadbeat taxi."A few others chuckled.Mr Kent simply cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, may I introduce Mr Lawrence Stiff, the sole heir to Mr Thomas Lance."Lawrence straightened up.Another man, younger this time, but arrogant, leaned forward."Please, Mr Stiff, tell me…do you understand what this company does?"Lawrence's lips twitched. "Not yet, no. But I plan to be better than all those who do nothing but feed off the company."The room went silent.The silver-haired man's brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"Lawrence took a careful step forward, placing his hand on the oak wood table. "You think I came all this way

The mirror he stood before barely recognized him.The man who stared back wasn’t the same Lawrence stiff who once stood under the rain watching his dignity wash off him.Now he wore it.The tailors studio smelled of wealth and fine fabric, with quiet classical music dancing in the air of the studio.The suit wrapped around him like armor, tailored perfectly to his frame, black with a faint graphite sheen.It was only one of the three in the whole world, hand stitched in Italy, and priced higher than the tailor studio itself.He bought two.Because he could.“Very impeccable taste indeed sir,” the tailor said, adjusting his cufflinks.“Mr Lance himself used to order from this line before he passed. Rest his soul. It’s a statement of absolute authority.”Lawrence gave a brief nod, satisfied with what he sees and feels. “Authority is exactly what I need.”When he stepped out of the fitting area, eyes followed him. People moved out of his way without even being asked to, a ripple of resp

The snow was light that morning in Zurich, thin flakes swirling like white dust around the glass tower of LanceCorp.The city was crisp and alive, but inside Lawrence’s new office that once belonged to that late CEO, the air was steady, calm and commanding. Floor to ceiling windows revealed a skyline that stretched endlessly, and for the first time in his life, he was looking up to power or kneeling to it, he was in it.He was dressed in one of the custom black suit that he had gotten from the tailor’s studio. The tailor had called it “the emperor’s cut.”Every movement he took in the suit felt extremely expensive.He was reviewing acquisition reports when his secretary’s voice came through the intercom.“Sir, a woman is here to see you. She’s causing quite the nuisance here, she’s saying she knows you….that she’s your wife—““Nuisance?!” The woman screamed from the background.He leaned back in his seat upon hearing that familiar voice, a voice he always longed to hear back then.“Se