Two security men stormed forward as the man at the desk motioned for them to act. They went straight for Elias, closing the distance quickly. One reached for his arm while the other aimed for his shoulder, expecting to pin him down between them. Elias didn’t retreat, if anything, he moved between them. The first guard felt his wrist turn sharply, pain shooting up his arm before his body followed. He hit the floor hard, confused more than anything. The second guard lunged, missed, and stumbled. Elias shifted once and shoved him down with a short, controlled movement. More guards stepped in and Elias kept moving, small adjustments, short motions. A guard rushed him and went down after his footing was taken. Another tried to grab him from behind and was dropped face-first onto the floor. Everything happened so fast but each movement ended with someone on the ground. The remaining guards stopped where they were, unsure whether to move or stay back. Meanwhile, the man at the desk ha

Elias didn’t give Alphonsus time to recover from the shock before he moved forward, stepping past the fallen bodies, towards him. As Elias moved closer, Alphonsus backed away until there was nowhere left to go. Elias caught him by the collar and drove him against the throne-like chair. Then he pressed his dagger against Alphonsus’s neck, just enough to draw a thin line of red. “Say your last prayer,” Elias said calmly. The hall went dead silent. Guests stared in disbelief, with some too frightened to move, others too fascinated to look away. Even the music had died completely, leaving only the sound of Alphonsus’s uneven breathing and the faint drip of blood hitting the floor. For a split second, Alphonsus looked like he was about to beg. Suddenly, he burst out into a hysterical laughter that echoed through the hall. His shoulders shook as he threw his head back, completely unconcerned with the blade at his throat. “You’re stupid,” he said, still laughing. “Do you really think

One would think the mention of Elias’s name would bring about fear but the city didn’t react the way anyone expected. Instead of people to fear him, they mocked him instead. Elias’s name came up again and again, but it was never with respect. People leaned in, smirked, and shook their heads as if they were sharing an inside joke. “Have you heard the story?” someone said over a cup of coffee. “That useless son-in-law is pretending to be some kind of king now.” Another laughed. “The same man who used to beg the Halstons for scraps? Please.” They talked about the party like it was a badly told rumor. Some said Alphonsus had staged the whole thing. Others claimed Elias had paid actors, that the blood was fake, that the coffin was part of some sick performance. A few even said Alphonsus had walked out later that night, perfectly fine. “I heard nothing even happened,” someone scoffed. “it was just a scam to look important.” “And that Crown nonsense?” another added. “If he really had p

Even after everything Elias had said, Kiara still wasn’t completely convinced. She stood there quietly for a moment, replaying his words in her head, but the more she thought about it, the more worried she got. She took a slow breath, then nodded. “Alright then,” she said softly. “I believe you.” Elias gave a small nod and together, they walked into the main hall. The hall was already full. Rows of seats stretched toward the stage and every chair was occupied. Investors sat in the front rows, while students, families, and guests filled the rest of the space. Elias took a seat among the audience, while Kiara took her place near the side of the stage with the other finalists. The noise slowly faded. The master of ceremony stepped forward with a microphone in his hand, smiling wide. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, “thank you for joining us for this year’s Future Leaders Pitch Event. Today, we celebrate vision, courage, and innovation.” Polite applause followed. “Out of hun

The moment the men got to the podium, the room adjusted around them. The principal, flustered by the sudden disruption, rose from his seat. “Excuse me,” he said, forcing a polite smile that didn’t quite hide his irritation. “May I know who you are? This is a private academic event. We don’t seem to have your names on the invitation list.” The first man turned calmly, and looked at the principal with mild curiosity, “We’re investors,” he said simply. A few people scoffed under their breath. The principal cleared his throat. “I’m afraid that won’t do,” he replied, more firmly now. “All investors present today were invited. If you weren’t invited, then—” The man lifted a hand gently, to end the back-and-forth. “My name is Adrian Voss,” he said. “Chairman of Voss Meridian Group.” The name landed like a dropped glass and a sharp intake of breath rippled through the front rows. One of the investors near the aisle stiffened, his expression shifting from curiosity to disbelief. Voss Mer