Riverside Café - 6:34 PM"Going somewhere?"Banyan Carmichael's voice carried vindictive satisfaction as he blocked the café entrance, his earlier terror replaced by renewed confidence. Behind him, footsteps echoed—heavy, numerous, growing louder with each passing second.Then another voice cut through the tension—hoarse, weathered, carrying authority that made Banyan immediately straighten his posture."Someone dared to provoke my brother?"Banyan's arrogance evaporated instantly, replaced by desperate reverence. "Master Lancaster! Yes! These people—they attacked my men! Humiliated me in my own territory! I called you immediately because—""Because you're incompetent," the voice interrupted coldly. "And needed someone competent to clean up your mess."The café doors burst open fully. Thirty men flooded inside—not street thugs like Banyan's crew, but disciplined enforcers whose movements spoke of real training and coordination. They positioned themselves at every exit, creating an ine

Crystal Plaza Mall - 7:15 PMMarcus Steel watched Nicholas Lancaster organize his thirty enforcers with the efficiency born of decades managing criminal operations, and felt only mild irritation. The Lancaster brothers weren't threats—they were expendable lackeys who'd learned their lesson after being crushed once. Even if they harbored resentment, they'd never dare act on it.Besides, Marcus was in an unusually good mood. Not because he'd humiliated Banyan Carmichael or made Nicholas kneel, but because Quinn Hartford's Saintess aura glowed with genuine happiness—warm golden light that pulsed with contentment he rarely witnessed. Her joy lifted his spirits in ways that power and victory never could."Nicholas," Marcus said, his dragon eyes assessing the crowd forming around them. "Too many people. Reduce your entourage to four men—enough to carry bags and maintain basic security. Send the rest downstairs to wait quietly.""Of course, Mr. Steel." Nicholas bowed deeply, grateful for per

Crystal Plaza Mall - 7:15 PMMarcus Steel watched Nicholas Lancaster organize his thirty enforcers with the efficiency born of decades managing criminal operations, and felt only mild irritation. The Lancaster brothers weren't threats—they were expendable lackeys who'd learned their lesson after being crushed once. Even if they harbored resentment, they'd never dare act on it.Besides, Marcus was in an unusually good mood. Not because he'd humiliated Banyan Carmichael or made Nicholas kneel, but because Quinn Hartford's Saintess aura glowed with genuine happiness—warm golden light that pulsed with contentment he rarely witnessed. Her joy lifted his spirits in ways that power and victory never could."Nicholas," Marcus said, his dragon eyes assessing the crowd forming around them. "Too many people. Reduce your entourage to four men—enough to carry bags and maintain basic security. Send the rest downstairs to wait quietly.""Of course, Mr. Steel." Nicholas bowed deeply, grateful for per

"Get your filthy hands OFF me!" Cosmo shrieked, jerking away with theatrical outrage. The motion brought her body close to the janitor's for a fraction of a second—long enough for her fingers to brush against the concealed blade at his waist.Dragon King-taught precision allowed her to disarm him without anyone noticing. The weapon slipped from its hidden sheath into her palm, then disappeared up her sleeve with movements too fast for ordinary eyes to track.The janitor's smile froze fractionally. His hand instinctively moved toward where the blade should be—then stopped, maintaining his harmless facade.She took it, he realized with cold shock. In one second. Without anyone seeing."Miss, please calm down," the flyer distributor said, her earlier shock replaced by calculated concern. "I apologize if I offended you. Perhaps we could discuss compensation? Somewhere quieter?""Compensation?" Cosmo's voice carried perfect pitch between greedy interest and continued outrage. "For insultin

The name landed differently on Nicholas Lancaster than it had on anyone else in the corridor.Ives Abbott watched his face with satisfaction, reading the shift the way predators read stillness in prey — the slight tightening around his eyes, the almost imperceptible pause before his next breath. She had seen that reaction hundreds of times. It never got old."Abbott Family," Nicholas repeated carefully, his cane steadying against the marble. "From Five-River Province.""Is there another one?" Ives tilted her chin.Nicholas's jaw worked. His mind was running the arithmetic she could practically see him doing. There was only one Abbott Family worth fearing in Five-River Province. Miguel Abbott had built his empire across three industries and two decades, and his reach extended well beyond provincial borders. Nicholas had spent enough time at the top of Grayson City's power structure to know exactly where the Abbott Family sat on the hierarchy."Your father is Miguel Abbott," he said. No