Jack's eyelids quivered open, a groan escaping his lips. He squinted, adjusting to the light that hit his face. Soon, he opened his eyes slowly and saw Jane standing over him. His eyes drifted around and he saw that it was his bedroom.“You're finally awake, Sir,” Jane said, heaving a sigh of relief. “The doctor said you might not wake up till the next day.”He tried sitting up but felt a jolting pain in his arm. He winced and grabbed his arm, closing his eyes. When he opened them and looked at his arm, he saw that it was covered in a bandage. In fact, there were bandages on his head, right shoulder, and leg.“The impact of the fall caused some injuries,” Jane said. “The doctor said it's not severe so you should be back on your feet in a week.”“A week?” Jack's pupils dilated. Even though his tone was completely flat, his heart thumped speedily behind his chest.How could he stay in this condition for a week?! There were several things to do—plans to carry out! Besides, James Whitefie

After getting all the information he wanted, Jack walked out of the interrogation chamber. He then said to Jane, “Make sure to call the police and turn him in.”Jane squinted, wondering what he was up to. All his actions so far have always ended in victory. Perhaps, he wanted to have Darlington arrested to achieve a particular goal. But what goal was that? Letting a dangerous enemy go wouldn't achieve anything… If not, it'd make things very difficult for Jack and everyone around. People's lives would be endangered.“Don't you want to sue him for attempted murder?” She asked. “I can do that and make sure he never comes out of prison.”Kate and Brandon nodded in agreement. They'd seen how dangerous Darlington Campbell was… A CIA ex-agent like him mustn't be turned into the police like that.“It's even better if we inform the CIA,” Kate said. “I've worked with them once—”“Just get him arrested,” Jack said, adjusting his cufflinks. “There's a reason I want to have him arrested.”“But you

Jack sat behind his study desk, his eyes fixated on the piece of paper lying on the table. He held a black pen in his right hand, nodding slowly. Occasionally, he tapped the pen against the desk as he ransacked his mind for more strategists. He was currently laying out his plans against James Whitefield, but wasn’t sure it'd be an easy win. Although his enemies would view him as a manipulator, he preferred to describe himself as a strategist. As someone who'd been a financial consultant for years, he'd mastered the art of getting things from people. He did it by exploiting his targets’ fears, egos, and dreams, making them break and give him whatever he wanted. It worked with Winston and Darlington… The ex-agent had given him everything he wanted. But the case was different with James Whitefield… He believed every billionaire out there wasn't innocent… They'd definitely exploited people to get where they were. And since James Whitefield was a billionaire, he was a master of this art o

For seven straight days, Kansas City was engulfed in a ruthless media firestorm. The leaked video of billionaire James Whitefield and the corrupt officers of the Kansas City Police Department meeting in that secluded alley on St. Jones Street was all over the news. Every major network, internet blog, and social media platform was screaming about the instant corruption. The public was absolutely furious, and the massive backlash forced the police department’s internal affairs to terminate the officers involved to protect their own skin. James Whitefield’s corporate reputation was burning, and his company’s stock prices were dropping violently by the hour. Financial analysts were already predicting a massive collapse if the board of directors couldn't contain the bleeding. But Jack didn't hear out, even though he was supposed to take out James Whitefield. Instead, he remained at the Neuman mansion, refusing to care about the noise outside. He ignored the media storm, refusing to take

The Grand Municipal Estate sat like a fortress of old money on the highest crest of the city's northern district. Tonight, its towering white marble pillars were bathed in the luminance of hidden ground-lighting… They cast long shadows against the stone facade. A massive limestone fountain bubbled at the center of the curving cobblestone driveway, its cascading waters catching the amber glow of the gas-lit torches lining the perimeter.This was Mayor Garrick BlueBird’s annual birthday gala, the undisputed epicenter of Kansas City’s true power structure.Outside the main entrance, a continuous parade of luxury vehicles drove along the pavement…Custom-armored Cadillac Escalades, pristine Rolls-Royce Phantoms, and low-rumbling Bentleys came to a smooth halt one after the other. The chauffeurs knew their duties and rushed toward the vehicles in crisp white gloves and black vests. They opened the doors, shielding the occupants from the chilling evening breeze.The air outside was thick wit