The sound of the Ryan car retracting from the city car roared out of the compound, acting as eyes that lingered on the expansive bumpers as they glided through the sleeping city. Its headlights cut through the darkness, washing over locked storefronts, shuttered restaurants, and metal gates that covered every shop. This part of the city was empty; no pedestrians or mundane activities, just silence broken by the steady hum of the engine and the sound of tires rolling over asphalt. Ryan, sitting in the passenger seat, felt his body and his shoulder tense. He wasn't expecting Nikolai to let him leave with the box; he knew men like that always had a plan of getting what they wanted. “I can't let him get this,” Ryan muttered as though he didn’t trust the calmness. The velvet box with upgraded security pressed against his lap, like a reminder that the night hadn’t ended simply because they’d left the auction. Inside sat thirty million dollars, now transformed into something small enou

The sound of taxi tires screeching against the hospital driveway tore through the quiet of the night like a warning siren. The vehicle jerked to a stop at the entrance of the General Hospital, and its headlights washed over the glass doors and the white concrete pillars outside. For a brief second, the world seemed frozen. Ryan’s breathing, the driver’s trembling hands on the steering wheel, and the harsh glare of fluorescent lights spilling out from the building. Then everything moved at once; Ryan shoved the door open and stumbled out. His shoes hit the pavement, and the cold night air slapped his face, sharp and unforgiving, and the smell of gasoline and smoke still clung to his suit like a curse. The velvet box was gone, but the watch rested on his wrist. Behind him, the taxi driver shouted something, probably calling for help, but Ryan barely heard him. His eyes were fixed on the backseat. Marcus was slumped there, unconscious, with his head tilted awkwardly. Dark blood clou

The nurse exited the room with an expression gotten from years of experience. Her eyes shifted from Elena to Ryan as though she could feel the tension already sitting in the air.Ryan standing outside the transparent room, his jaw clenched, didn’t realize he held his breath when the nurse stopped in front of them. Elena, beside him, had her arms folded across her chest, with a controlled expression, but Ryan noticed the subtle detail most people would miss: her fingers tapping against her elbow, a sign of impatience.“His vitals are stable,” she began, slipping off her face mask and her gloves, tossing them into the nearby bin as if shedding the last traces of the emergency. “From the scans, which show a minor concussion, the patient has no serious injury but will be under observation for the meantime.”Relief hit him hard, and Ryan let out a shaky exhale. “Thank you!” he muttered, sounding almost broken. “Thank you very much.”The nurse nodded once, already turning away.Ryan’s gaze

They arrived at Selena Hotel, and Ryan stepped out. The lobby doors opened, releasing warm air and the scent of luxury.Ryan walked in, eyes turning immediately.A woman with a designer handbag paused; even the receptionist's mouth parted in shock.Ryan didn’t slow down and headed straight for the elevator.The receptionist finally found her voice."S…sir, are you okay?”“I’m fine,” Ryan said, narrowing his gaze at her.The girl quickly nodded and looked away, pretending to focus on her computer.Ryan stepped into the elevator and rode up to the penthouse. The doors opened and the suite lights flickered on automatically as he entered. He staggered as exhaustion finally caught up to him.His body felt like it was made of bruises.He was about to head to the bathroom when the muted television caught his attention. A female journalist stood in front of flashing police lights, speaking rapidly.Behind her was the wreckage of Ryan’s car. The camera angle showed the crushed metal, the shat

This was someone high enough to make decisions. Someone whose words could open the gate for him.The commander gave a nod, not even sparing the guards a second glance. His attention shifted to Ryan, scanning him from head to toe, then his gaze paused on the luggage by Ryan’s feet.“What is going on here?” the commander asked, returning his gaze to Ryan.One of the guards stepped forward, and his colleagues' eyes dropped to the ground, avoiding the commanders'. “This man claims he is here to finish his admission process,” the guard said. “He doesn’t have a pass, so we couldn’t tell if he was a legacy or a walk-in.”The commander’s gaze didn’t soften. He turned fully to Ryan. “I didn't receive any information or documents, and all passed through my department." The man paused, eyes wide. “Do you know where you are?” Ryan felt the dryness in his throat. “Iron Gate Academy,” he answered.The commander’s lips. “If you're a legacy, then you should know we don’t accept admission at this tim