Don’s smile widened. With the invisible, limitless backing of the Walters Syndicate standing behind him, his words were no longer just the empty threats of an underfunded local cop. They were backed with the highest authority in the nation. He was untouchable, and he knew it.Broman stared at him for a second. Then, he began to laugh. He laughed out loud, throwing his head back, laughing so hard that he actually snorted."Oh my days!" Broman wheezed, wiping his forehead. "I am finished? Me? The untouchable Richard Broman? Oh, please, tell me, Sheriff. Tell me exactly how I am finished."Don gave a polite, accommodating smile in return. He pulled a small notepad from his chest pocket, flipping it open casually."Well, for starters," Don read from the pad, "you are under arrest for the emotional and severe physical abuse against two minors below the age of ten. We have multiple witnesses right here on the sidewalk, not to mention the bruising on the boy's neck."Broman scoffed. "A misde

Nathan slowly knelt down to the little girl's eye level. He gently reached out, took the plastic tray from her trembling hands, and set it aside on a nearby cluttered table."I would have loved to eat this, young lady," Nathan said warmly, giving her a bright, reassuring smile. "And I am absolutely sure your food tastes amazing, okay? But I have to rush to work right now. If I'm late, my boss is going to yell at me. That man always shouts like a big, angry grizzly bear. Rawr! Rawr! Rawr!"Nathan threw his hands up like bear claws and made a goofy, exaggerated monster face.The little girl blinked, surprised, and then a massive smile broke across her face. Both kids suddenly clutched their stomachs and laughed. They genuinely laughed, a bright, pure sound that echoed in the dark, messy room. But as they smiled, their cheekbones almost shot out of their skin from how thin they were.Seeing that physical toll broke Nathan's heart all over again. He was determined to help them, no matter

Epstein reached down, popped open his leather briefcase resting by his feet, and pulled out a thin manila folder. He tossed it onto the desk."I pulled his academic file on Friday afternoon before I fired him," Epstein said, staring at the folder. "Full academic scholarship. He holds the highest qualifying test scores in the entire history of Braxton College's engineering program. Six academic commendations. And he has three pending patent applications filed under a student research waiver."Epstein tapped the folder with a manicured finger. "Filed under a waiver. Do you know what that means, Mark? It means the intellectual property legally remains with the student, not the school."The room grew even quieter. Grayson and his assistants looked at each other, realizing they were trying to hack the property of a certified genius. No, the ‘stolen’ property of a certified genius."He knows the machine," Epstein said, leaning back. "He obviously knows it better than anyone else on the plan

"But don't I at least deserve to know why my account was placed on hold?" the poor old lady asked helplessly, a tear escaping the corner of her wrinkled eye. "I have been a loyal customer to this bank for decades! I opened my first savings account here before you were even born! I have attended all your mandatory cybersecurity training programs. I don't click on malicious links. I don't give my passwords away. And yet, somehow, my entire account is frozen and I don't even get an explanation?"The old lady gripped the edge of the counter, her voice breaking. "How am I supposed to pay for my hospital bills this afternoon? They are going to cancel my surgery!"Instead of showing even a single ounce of empathy or trying to look deeper into the system, the customer service representative completely flared up. She slammed her pink-nailed hands onto her desk."Ma'am, please! Enough!" the teller snapped, her voice harsh and loud, echoing out into the lobby. "If you want to know what happened

For ten agonizingly long seconds, the massive lobby of Standard Merchant Bank was completely and utterly silent.You could hear a pin drop on the polished marble floor. You could hear the soft whirring of the centralized air conditioning. You could hear the rapid, heavy breathing of the three powerful executives kneeling on the hard stone. Which was very unusual for SMB, or any bank, even.The crowd of hundreds of customers, who just moments ago had been shifting restlessly and complaining about the long lines, were now absolutely frozen in shock. Their eyes were wide, their jaws hanging open in sheer disbelief.People began to whisper, pointing trembling fingers at the three older men on the floor. They recognized them. How could they not? These were not just regular bank managers. These men were among the richest, most influential corporate figures in the entire city of Boston.Just this very morning, during the terrifying nationwide financial shutdown, that silver-haired CEO had be