Margaret lay on the ground, her expensive silk dress torn and stained with dirt and blood.Her perfectly styled hair had come undone, hanging in disheveled strands around her swollen face.Beside her, Cassandra was in similar condition – her makeup smeared, her designer clothes ruined, blood trickling from her nose and split lip.Both women stared up at Thomas Morrison with expressions of complete shock and bewilderment.This didn't make sense. None of this made sense.Thomas had always supported them. Always.After the old patriarch's death, Thomas had been the one to back Margaret's rise to power. He'd provided his disciple Walter as enforcement. He'd given his silent approval to every decision Margaret made, every scheme she implemented.He'd been their ally. Their partner. Their co-conspirator.So why was he attacking them now? Why was he defending Elena and her family?Margaret's mind raced, trying to understand what had changed.Then it hit her.Elena must have done something. S

Margaret lay on the cold pavement, her mind still struggling to process Thomas's words.More powerful than Francine Hale?It had to be impossible but the fear in Thomas's eyes was real and the terror in his voice was genuine.Something had happened. Something she didn't understand.Margaret's thoughts suddenly shifted to Walter. Her reliable enforcer. Thomas's prized disciple.Where was he?He should have returned with the prisoners. He should be here, standing beside Thomas, helping to maintain order.But he was nowhere to be seen.A cold dread began creeping up Margaret's spine."Thomas," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "Where... where is Walter?"Cassandra stirred beside her, groaning as consciousness slowly returned. Her face was so swollen she could barely open her eyes."Master Thomas..." Cassandra mumbled through her broken jaw. "Where's Walter? We need... we need him here..."Both women looked up at Thomas with desperate hope. Walter would protect them. He was s

Silence.Then, one by one, the family members began bowing.First just a few. Then more. Then everyone.Within moments, the entire crowd was bowing to Elena's parents in acknowledgment of their new authority.Elena's father looked overwhelmed. His wife was openly crying now, her shoulders shaking with emotion.Thomas straightened up and smiled – a genuine expression that softened his harsh features."Welcome home," he said simply.The tension that had gripped the estate grounds finally began to dissipate. Family members started approaching Elena's parents, offering congratulations and pledges of loyalty.Some were sincere. Others were clearly motivated by self-preservation but it didn't matter. The power had shifted, and everyone knew it.Grandmother Cross was ushered inside by several servants, who helped her to a comfortable sitting room where she could rest properly.Victor and his remaining fighters were given medical attention and guest quarters to recover in.The chaos of the ni

The private hospital room was pristine white, filled with the steady beeping of medical equipment and the soft hiss of ventilators.Victoria Caldwell lay motionless in the hospital bed, her body wrapped in bandages from head to toe. Tubes ran from her arms, her nose, her mouth. Monitors tracked her vital signs with glowing green lines that jumped and flickered with each weak heartbeat.But her eyes remained closed. Her face was pale as death. She looked more like a corpse than a living person.Standing beside the bed was Francine Hale.She was in her early forties, stunningly beautiful with sharp features and cold eyes that missed nothing. Her designer suit was immaculate, her jewelry expensive but tasteful. Everything about her screamed power and control.But right now, her expression was grim. Dark. Dangerous.She stared down at Victoria's broken body with barely contained fury.A doctor stood nervously on the other side of the bed, checking the monitors and adjusting IV drips. He w

Francine stood by the window, staring out at the city lights but her mind was elsewhere, foused on the past. "The bloodline of that man is truly formidable," she said quietly, almost to herself.Her assistant, a young woman named Claire who'd worked for Francine for five years, stood nearby. She knew better than to interrupt when her boss was in this mood.Francine's lips curved into a cold smile."That boy who barely managed to escape all those years ago... he's grown up now. And he has quite the abilities, doesn't he?"She turned away from the window, her expression dark."He crippled the local elite fighters of City Newton like they were nothing. Like they were children playing at being warriors." She walked back to Victoria's bedside, looking down at her cousin's broken body."We destroyed his family ten years ago. His mother died because of us. He and his sister were thrown out into the streets. We hunted them for years."Francine's voice was matter-of-fact, showing no remorse