Leo stepped into the private elevator at Blackwood Heights, the doors closing with a soft click behind him. The ride up was silent, just the low hum of the machinery and his own thoughts. He had changed out of the janitor shirt into a simple black button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The cut on his temple from the accident still stung, but he ignored it. Pain was nothing new.When the doors opened into the penthouse, the city lights stretched out through the big windows. He walked straight to the long table where his laptop waited. A video call request blinked on the screen. The caller ID showed only a string of numbers, but he knew exactly who it was.He sat down, took a breath, and accepted the call.Thomas Blackwood appeared on the screen. The old man sat in his study, the same room Leo remembered from years of cold meetings. Silver hair perfectly combed, sharp eyes staring straight into the camera. His face showed no warmth. Just the calm authority of someone who had rule

Leo stepped into the private lounge on the top floor of the newly acquired hotel. The room was quiet, lit by soft lamps on the side tables. He walked in alone, no bodyguards, no assistants. He wore a simple black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, jeans, and his usual calm expression. His shoulder still ached from the accident, but he carried himself like it didn’t matter.Thomas Blackwood sat at the far end of the long table. The old man looked exactly as Leo remembered...silver hair combed perfectly, sharp eyes watching every step. He had a glass of whiskey in front of him and a small smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes.“Grandson,” Thomas said, voice rich and steady. “You came. Alone. Bold move.”Leo pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. He didn’t smile back. His face stayed hard, eyes locked on his grandfather. “You wanted to talk. So talk.”Thomas leaned back in his chair. He took a slow sip of whiskey and studied Leo’s face. “You’ve grown. Three years as a j

Leo stood in the basement storage room under the main library, wiping down the same old metal shelves he had cleaned a hundred times before. The navy janitor shirt stuck to his back from the early heat, and his hands moved on autopilot. To the few students who passed the open door, he was just another worker doing his job. But today his mind was elsewhere.He held his phone between his ear and shoulder while he worked. “Push the donation through the shell account,” he said, voice low and steady. “Ten million to the scholarship fund. Make it look like it came from an anonymous alumni group. I want the board to feel the pressure by this afternoon.”Sebastian answered fast. “Already set, sir. The papers are ready. This move will hit Thomas where it hurts. He used to control those scholarship decisions through his old contacts. Now they’ll start wondering who the new player is.”Leo’s mouth curved into a slow, cold smile. He kept wiping the shelf, but his eyes showed real pleasure. Taking

Leo stepped into the penthouse and dropped his hoodie on the couch. The lights were low, just the way he liked them after a long day. He walked straight to the large table where three laptops sat open. Reports filled the screens. Numbers. Contracts. Updates from Sebastian. He sat down, rolled up his sleeves, and started typing.“Send the offers,” he said into the phone, voice firm and clear. “The private bank branch on Fifth Street and the media company downtown. Cash deals. No negotiations. I want both signed and done before sunrise.”Sebastian’s voice came back excited. “Sir, the bank owner is already sweating. He knows we’re connected to the other properties you took. He’s ready to sign. The media company is harder, but we’re offering twenty percent above market. They’ll fold by morning.”Leo leaned back in the chair. A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face. He tapped his fingers on the table, enjoying the feeling that ran through him. “Good. Push harder on the media one. I

Leo limped into the maintenance closet at the back of the library basement. Every step sent sharp pain up his leg from the cut on his ankle. He had wrapped it tight with a bandage from the campus clinic, but the bleeding had started again. He closed the door behind him and leaned against the shelves for a second, breathing hard through his teeth.“Damn it,” he whispered. His face twisted in pain. He had spent the whole night trying to fix the damage from the river club. Two shell accounts were still frozen. Millions sat out of reach. Thomas had moved faster than anyone expected.He changed into his navy janitor shirt, the one with “LEO” stitched over the heart. The fabric felt heavier today. He grabbed the mop and pushed the cart out into the hallway. Students were starting to fill the building for morning classes. Leo kept his head down and moved slow, trying not to show the limp.A girl from his economics class walked past and gave him a small wave. “Hey Leo, you okay? You look like