The car door closed with a soft, definitive click.Logan settled into the back seat, and for a moment, the only sound was the low hum of the engine as the motorcade pulled smoothly away from the building. He said nothing. He looked out the window at the city sliding past — glass and steel and indifferent afternoon light — and let the silence sit."Back to headquarters, sir?" his driver asked."Yes."He had barely gotten the word out when his phone buzzed.Richard Hale — Calling.Logan picked up. Richard Hale had been the operational CEO of the Imperial Group for six years. Efficient, sharp, and loyal in the way only a man who had been pulled up from nothing could be."Sir." Richard's voice was measured, but there was something careful underneath it. "I heard about what happened. I wanted to reach out personally.""Don't."A beat of silence. "Understood. I only called because I wanted to confirm — the Stellar Finance collaboration. Given the... circumstances, do you want us to pull the

Logan pulled out his phone, his expression unchanged as Margaret Chase continued her tirade behind him.He scrolled to Samuel Wright's contact and pressed call.Samuel answered on the first ring. "Mr. Mercer. I'm already upstairs. Is everything all right?""I'm at the entrance," Logan said quietly. "There's been a misunderstanding with security."There was a beat of silence. Then Samuel's voice turned sharp. "They're not letting you in?""No.""I'll handle it immediately." The line went dead.Logan slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned to face Margaret, who was watching him with a expression of pure contempt."Who were you calling?" she asked mockingly. "Your imaginary friends? Maybe one of them can pretend to get you inside."The security guards stood on either side of Logan now, their hands hovering near his arms but not quite touching. Waiting for the order.Margaret's smile was vicious. "You know what you look like right now, Logan? A desperate little man trying to cli

The top floor of Vantage was a study in understated luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of Creston City's glittering skyline, while soft classical music played from hidden speakers. The lighting was dim, intimate, designed for conversations that shaped the world.Logan stepped into the private dining room where two men waited.Samuel Wright stood near the window, a man in his late fifties with silver hair and the kind of presence that commanded attention without effort. He was the president of the Creston City Chamber of Commerce, a position that made him one of the most influential figures in the entire region.Beside him sat Marcus Reed, CEO of Imperial Group. Younger than Samuel by a decade, sharp-eyed and perpetually restless, Marcus radiated the controlled intensity of a man who ran a multi-billion-dollar empire.Both men turned when Logan entered.And both immediately bowed."Mr. Mercer," Samuel said, his voice carrying genuine respect. "Thank you for comin

Logan stood perfectly still, the weight of revelation pressing down on him like a physical force.The ring.Emma Laurent had lost a ring years ago. A ring that Vivian had stolen. A ring that matched the one Logan had carried with him for over a decade as the only proof that genuine kindness existed in the world.Emma was the girl who had saved him.Not Vivian.Emma.He looked at her now — standing at the entrance with her worn suit and her desperate hope, clutching that portfolio like it was the last chance she had left in the world. Her face was flushed with humiliation from Vivian's accusations, but there was still fire in her eyes. Still strength.She had saved him once when he had nothing.And now she was the one who needed saving.Emma's brow furrowed as Vivian's words sank in. "A ring?" she murmured, almost to herself. "I did lose a ring years ago. I thought I'd just misplaced it, but—""Oh, spare me," Vivian snapped. "You 'lost' it. Right. Just like you 'accidentally' started s

The lobby of Vantage had transformed into something resembling a public execution.Vivian and Brandon stood in the center of the marble floor, surrounded by Marcus Reed's bodyguards, while the sound of open-handed slaps echoed through the space like drum beats.Vivian's face was already swelling, red marks blooming across her cheeks like bruises. Tears streamed down her face, smearing her carefully applied makeup into dark streaks. Her hair had come loose from its elegant arrangement, falling in disheveled strands around her shoulders.Brandon was in worse shape. His lip was split, blood trickling down his chin. Both of his eyes were beginning to puff up, and he could barely stand without swaying.The restaurant's other patrons had gathered at a safe distance, watching in horrified silence. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The only sounds were the slaps, Vivian's sobbing, and Brandon's ragged breathing.Crack.Another strike landed across Vivian's face.She let out a strangled cry, her kne