Jessica didn't waste a second. The moment she stepped out of the Shepherd estate's iron gates, her phone was already in her hand, fingers flying across the screen. By the time her car pulled up to the hotel entrance, her private jet was already being prepared for takeoff. "I'm sick of this place," she muttered, rushing through the lobby while a bellhop struggled to keep up with her luggage. "I completely humiliated myself over there." At the curb, a black Escalade sat with its engine running. The driver kept the door open as Jessica slipped inside, then she slammed it shut behind her. "Airport. Right now!" she snapped. "Right now! I want to leave this godforsaken city as quickly as possible." The driver drove off without saying a word. Jessica pressed her forehead against the cool window, watching the city lights blur past. No matter what she did, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had been deceived, humiliated, and outsmarted by a man she had underestimated as a subordi

Rain poured from the night sky in relentless sheets, drenching the city under a cold storm. Cars sped across the bridge without slowing down, their headlights slicing through the darkness one after another like ghosts. Tires hissed on the wet asphalt as horns blared impatiently in the distance. Yet, no one noticed the woman standing at the edge of the bridge. Jessica Russell stood still under the storm, her black coat thoroughly drenched, with wet strands of hair sticking to her pale face. She gripped the cold metal tightly, her fingers numb and her heart empty. It took three days for her empire to be consumed by CBA Industries. During those three days, Jessica went through the most traumatic moments of her life. Her face appeared on every news channel, mocked and ridiculed by every anchor. She had become a laughingstock because of social media. The timeline was flooded with memes of her crying face. She had lost it all: the company, the money, the power, and the respect. J

Jessica's voice barely escaped her throat. "What?" Bruce didn't flinch. He kept his gaze steady, watching her try to sense of what was happening. "Two billion dollars," he repeated. "The same amount you lost to ABC Holdings. It's yours now." Jessica reached out with trembling fingers and picked up the black card. She turned it over in her hand, feeling its weight, its smooth surface. Then she looked at the slip of paper with the account number and PIN. "How?" she whispered. "How did you get this?" Bruce settled back into the sofa, wearing a calm expression. "I had it all along. Before dismantling ABC Holdings, I transferred a portion of the funds into an untraceable offshore account," he paused. "I kept it for a rainy day. I suppose this must be the day." Jessica's eyes grew wide. "You hid away two billion dollars? Just in case I needed it?" Bruce smiled faintly. "I'm a man who likes to plan ahead." Jessica stared at the card, then back at Bruce. Tears gathered in her eyes and

Bruce and Lucy stepped back inside, closing the porch door behind them. The living room was now silent, with only the gentle ticking of the wall clock breaking the stillness. Brenda descended the stairs slowly, pausing at the bottom to smooth her coat. "Tyler has been tucked in bed," she announced. "He's a good boy. Despite everything, you've raised him well." Lucy tightened her jaw. "Thank you. Now that he's asleep, we need to talk." Brenda's eyes moved down toward Lucy's wheelchair. She examined it for a long moment, her face expressionless. "What happened to your legs?" Lucy stared at her mother. "Seriously? You didn't bring it up until just now?" Brenda waved her hand dismissively. "I wanted to get settled in before I started asking questions. Not before." She walked to the armchair near the television and sat down, crossing her legs. Her cold eyes fixed on Lucy. "So," Brenda said, "how did you end up in a wheelchair?" Lucy gripped the arms of her chair tightly. "It's a l

The study had grown quiet, the fire reduced to glowing embers. Bruce stood by the window, phone pressed to his ear, giving orders to the Black Foot Clan operatives positioned near Lucy's house."I want daily reports," Bruce said, his voice low. "If anyone even glances at that house the wrong way, I want to be informed.""Understood, Master," the operative responded. "There is something you should know. Over the past two hours, several unidentified men have been spotted in the area. They don't seem to be typical criminals. They look very professional."Bruce's jaw stiffened. "The Sopranos?""Most likely, Master. They have not yet approached the house. It seems they are observing and gathering information."Bruce was silent for a moment. "Stand down. Do not engage unless they make a move against Lucy or her son. Monitor the situation and report to Oswald. Nothing more.""Master, what should we do if they make a move?"Bruce's eyes hardened. "Then you have my permission to neutralize the