Marcus remained where he was as Diane’s furious voice echoed through the quiet street. A few neighbors cautiously peeked through their windows after being disturbed by the commotion, but she couldn’t care less. Pointing at Marcus, she angrily questioned, “What are you still waiting for?! Do you know what Quinn went through?! She was dragged through the mud, thrown into prison, and left to suffer alone while you disappeared. Tell me, where were you when she needed you the most?” Marcus listened quietly without interrupting. His eyes never left Quinn. After Diane finished, he calmly replied, “I wasn’t there when she needed me. I won’t deny that. But I never abandoned her.” His voice remained steady, carrying neither guilt nor excuses. Looking at Quinn, he added, “I’ll give you the explanation you deserve. Until then… take care of yourself.” Without waiting for a response, he turned around and walked away. Quinn quietly watched Marcus leave without calling him back. She h

The man did not answer, his fingers clenched on top of the table.Several seconds passed without a sound, before he finally stood and gathered his files with stiff movements."We'll talk about this another time," he muttered hurriedly, avoiding everyone's gaze in the room. "I have to go, there is an important charity event I have to attend now."No one answered, of course no one was willing to do so.Even his own secretary chose to lower his head as the man passed through the exit door.Quinn remained sitting upright in her chair, staring at the man's back as it disappeared down the hallway.Several people around the table began whispering softly, this time with a tone that contrasted sharply with earlier.Typical human beings."How dare he challenge Mrs. Quinn like that...""Now see for yourself how it ended.""Mrs. Quinn really isn't someone you can offend carelessly."Quinn closed the folder in front of her, then glanced at each of the figures who still remained in the room."This

Brandon stepped across the threshold of a famous luxury club, his chin held high toward the dim ceiling shrouded in smoke.Two large bouncers immediately stepped forward, blocking his path with their massive frames."Move aside," Brandon commanded, his chin held high, reaching toward the sky.The larger guard sneered, reaching out to grab the young intruder's shoulder.Brandon slapped the man's wrist away with a sharp movement, looking deeply offended."Touch me, and you'll be picking your teeth off the floor," Brandon hissed.The two guards did not budge, drawing an impatient snort from the young man. "You lowly rats!" he cursed as he stuffed a wad of cash into the mouths of the two guards.Without wasting much time, he hurried toward the foyer, ignoring the increasingly thick smell of smoke and spilled liquor."Where is the person pulling all the strings around here?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the heavy, rhythmic beat of the club music.Dozens of hostile pairs of eyes s

Brandon's hand trembled as he stared at the paper in front of him."What is this?" he asked, his voice barely steady."Read it," the mafia leader said calmly. "You'll understand once you finish reading it."Brandon remained silent, staring at the object for several moments, considering whether to read it or not."Tell me what's inside," the young man demanded again, but the mafia leader only stared at him sharply, offering no reply.Brandon still looked hesitant, his earlier arrogance evaporating into thin air.Eventually, he moved, tearing the seal further, pulling out the rest of the documents.Old transaction records.Names he didn't recognize.Dates stretching back more than a decade.None of it made immediate sense, page after page filled with numbers and signatures that meant nothing to him.Then his eyes landed on a name near the bottom of the third page, and his breath caught.Someone who had once been close to the Kane family, close enough that Brandon remembered hearing the

The convoy moved through the northern mountain pass under a sky filled with grey clouds, the engines rumbling low against the silence of the mountains.Six military vehicles, in tight formation, without any wasted movement.Inside the lead vehicle, the Commander checked his watch for the third time in ten minutes."ETA to checkpoint," he said into the radio."Twenty minutes, Commander," came the reply.The words had barely left the radio when the first explosion struck the rear vehicle."Contact! Contact!" someone screamed over the comms.The Commander grabbed his rifle, his trained instincts taking over before his mind could catch up."Report!" he barked."Rear vehicle disabled! Multiple hostiles, both flanks!"Gunfire erupted outside, precise bursts instead of chaotic sprays.The Commander peered through the vehicle's narrow viewport and felt his stomach drop.They weren't bandits.The attackers moved in coordinated pairs, covering each other with textbook discipline, striking exact