Steven was celebrating. Celebrating the death of that fool Noah.He had decided to throw a small get together with his usual haunt of friends at the Zorra Lounge one of the city's most exclusive lounges that sat at the center of the city, a haven of velvet, gold leaf, and panoramic views reserved strictly for the elite. Tonight, Steven Vance occupied the vip booth, his dark shirt catching the low lights. Sighing, he tipped the glass of bourbon back into his mouth, his throat working to swallow the warm liquid, feeling his muscles, tensed from all the stress he had been unjustly experiencing this last few days, release.“Hmmm.." he moaned, body practically singing with pleasure.Because in his mind, Noah was as good as dead. the idiot wouldn't be able to mess with him anymore once all the bones in his body were broken.. "Bring out the Dom Pérignon White Gold," Steven slurred slightly, waving a dismissive hand at the hovering waiter. "Actually, make it two. The five-thousand-dollar

The Stone household was a tomb of despair. Evelyn Stone paced the length of the opulent living room, wringing her hands, while her daughter Sarah sat on the velvet sofa, aggressively chewing her thumbnail. "It’s gone. It’s all gone," Evelyn muttered, her face pale and drawn. "Steven’s family is ruined. The firm is seized. And Steven... oh God, Steven."She pushed her hands through her hair, brain whirring at the awful news they had received this morning."The doctors said he’ll never walk again, Mom," She remembered how Nicole had yelled from the phone when she had called her for more money for shopping.Her daughter, her beautiful smart Nicole, had sounded so panicked, her voice shrill with anxiety as she explained. "He had an accident, mom! He’s paralyzed from the waist down. The Vance family is bankrupt, and Steven is a cripple. Everything I worked so hard for! Everything I sacrificed for! Gone!, right before my eyes! What am I going to do now?" She sobbed, the sound of her angui

Noah leaned closer to the screen. "The Vault. Chantel mentioned something about my assets being locked down." Rebecca grimaced at the mention of Chantel, something like anger passing over her face before she managed to reign it in. " Ah… that's… good then." She sounded like the words had to pried out of her mouth through gritted teeth  Noah just watched her curiously, wondering what her problem with the other woman was. Clearing her throat, Rebecca continued. "The Vault contains the core of your empire," Rebecca explained, her voice dropping to a hushed, conspiratorial tone.  "Deeds, blackmail material on half the world's politicians, untraceable bearer bonds, and the master codes to the satellite network. But it cannot be opened with just a biometric scan. It requires a physical key. Specifically, three rings." No

"You're cheating!" Simon roared, spittle flying from his lips as he leaped to his feet. "You're a goddamn cheat! There is no way a pathetic, toilet-scrubbing nobody plays like this!"Noah slowly stood up, buttoning his cheap suit jacket. He looked at the furious man across the table, his eyes devoid of any feeling. “I assure you, I can,” He said evenly, mouth twitching into a small grin.Simon’s fist slammed down again, rattling the chips in the center pot.“You think you’re funny,” Simon hissed, voice thick with whiskey and rage. “You think you can waltz into my house, sit at my table, and take my money like you’re—like you’re hot shit.”Noah didn’t blink. He didn’t glance at the other men around the table, even though he could feel their attention tightening like a noose.He kept his eyes on Simon.“No,” Noah said quietly. “I don’t think about you at all.”A harsh sound of breath escaped one of the remaining players. A man in a burgundy velvet jacket shifted uncomfortably, looking

Silence followed Noah’s words.Lucien Vickers didn’t answer immediately. He just watched Noah for a moment, sizing him up.Noah didn't back down, meeting the other man's eyes with a deadpan expression.‘What would you do? To what lengths are you willing to go?’But Lucien didn't respond to the taunt.Instead, he let out a short bark of laughter that sounded like the coughs of a young child. He pushed off the doorframe, his movements fluid and dangerously graceful, and began to circle the poker table. His ice-blue eyes never left Noah’s though.“If you’re not,” Lucien mused, his voice a melodic rasp, “then you are either the luckiest man to ever draw breath, or you are something much more interesting than a mere ‘assistant.’” He stopped behind Simon, placing a hand on his brother’s trembling shoulder. The gesture looked affectionate to an outsider, but Noah saw the way Lucien’s fingers dug into the muscle, a silent command for Simon to shut his mouth.“My brother has a flair for the