The waiter leaned in slightly, his posture perfect and a practiced, professional smile on his face. “Good afternoon. May I take your order?”Marcus didn’t need to study the menu for long, he scanned the options with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times. “I’ll start with the smoked salmon tartare,” he said, his voice smooth. “Infuse it with truffle oil, top it with a poached quail egg, and add a side of caviar crème fraîche. For the main, I’ll take the parmesan risotto, and let's pair that with the afternoon fruit medley.”Freya raised an eyebrow, looking at him with a mix of shock and genuine interest. “That’s... incredibly extravagant for lunch, don't you think?”He caught her eye and smirked faintly. “It’s just a light, refined meal to match the hour. Think of it as afternoon elegance.”Freya leaned back in her chair, studying the way he carried himself, before giving a small, impressed nod to the waiter. “All right then. I’ll go with the lobster bisque— make sure

The holographic screen hovered in the dim cabin of the car, casting a pale blue glow over Marcus’s face as he read the words again. The email from Leo was short, marked with a red "URGENT" tag. Marcus studied the attached address for a moment before leaning back into the leather seat, feeling the subtle vibration of the car beneath him.“Navigation set to the provided coordinates,” the Phantom X announced, its voice smooth and devoid of any mechanical edge. “Transitioning to autonomous mode now.”The car pulled away from the tall, ornate gates of Freya’s estate, merging into the traffic with a grace that made the other luxury vehicles on the road look clunky. Marcus watched the city lights blur past the window, his mind already miles ahead of the car. He thought about the weight of the name Leo had mentioned— Dominion Crest Holdings.“So this is the kind of weight you’ve handed me, Leo,” Marcus murmured to the empty car, a small, dark smile playing on his lips.Thirty minutes later

The lobby was dead quiet now. The massive marble floors were so polished that they looked like a dark lake reflecting the bright lights from the ceiling. On the outside, everything at Dominion Crest Holdings looked perfect— professional, calm, and expensive.But Marcus wasn’t feeling the calmness of the environment. He stood in the center of the room while the manager, Vittorio Moretti, stood across from him with a polite, practiced smile.“So,” Moretti said, folding his hands in front of his suit. “What exactly can I show you? What would you like to know about our operations?”Marcus didn't answer right away. He walked a slow circle around the reception area, his eyes scanning the security placements and the way the staff moved. He stopped and looked directly at the manager.“First,” Marcus said, his voice level. “I want to know how you handle hiring. Because it seems like in this company, nobody actually listens to the people walking through the front door.”Moretti blinked, the smi

The manager’s hand was still shaking slightly when Marcus reached out to shake it.“Thank you so much for coming by, sir,” the manager said, bowing his head with a level of respect that bordered on fear. “It was truly an honor to have you.”Madeleine Quinton stood a few feet away, frozen like a statue. She was still trying to wrap her head around everything that had just happened in that office. Her knuckles were white from how hard she was gripping her tablet, and the cocky attitude she’d walked in with had completely evaporated.Marcus turned his head slightly and caught a glimpse of her ID badge hanging from a delicate gold chain. Madeleine M. Quinton.It was a classic name— the kind of name that suggested old money, private vineyards, and oil paintings of ancestors in long, dim hallways. It fit her perfectly. Marcus gave her a small, knowing smirk. He didn't say a word, and he didn't need to, the silence was doing a much better job of making her uncomfortable than any insult cou

The school gates at the academy were never this quiet during lunch time. Usually, the morning air was filled with the sound of luxury engines and students gossiping, but today, a heavy, expectant silence hung over the massive.That silence was broken by the low, rhythmic groan of the iron gates swinging wide. A convoy of black SUVs rolled in, moving with a synchronized precision that made the Phantom X parked nearby look like a toy. These weren't flashy sports cars, they were blocky G wagons, matte black predators with tinted glass so dark they looked like shadows carved out of the morning light. The engines emitted a deep, guttural growl— the kind of vibration you felt in your chest before you heard it with your ears.They pulled up in a perfect line, right next to where Marcus was standing.Marcus didn't move. He stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking completely bored by the drama, even as the student body gathered in a wide circle to stare. In the reflection of the lead