The smell of burnt onions and cheap grease filled the small kitchen. Marcus wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his dirty sleeve. He picked up a heavy sponge and started scrubbing a greasy frying pan. His hands were rough, covered in dark scars and thick calluses. Marcus did not know where those scars came from. He did not know his real age, his real name, or where he belonged. Two years ago, he woke up beside a trash can in the muddy alley behind this diner. He had no memories at all. His mind was a black hole.An old man named Peter found him shaking in the cold rain. Peter did not call the police or throw him away. Instead, Peter brought him inside, gave him a bowl of hot soup, and called him Marcus. Since that day, Marcus worked in the kitchen to pay Peter back.Marcus was a man of few words. He spent his days washing dishes, chopping vegetables, and carrying heavy bags of rice. He was tall and broad, but he always kept his head down. The people in the neighborhood called

The world was dark and cold for a long time. Then, a soft light began to shine through the darkness. Christian opened his eyes slowly. His head throbbed with a dull, heavy ache, but the confusion that had filled his mind for two long years was completely gone. Every single piece of his past was now crystal clear.He looked up at the ceiling. It was made of old wooden boards with water stains in the corners. He was lying on a small, narrow bed with a thin mattress. The blanket over his chest smelled faintly of lavender soap and old cotton.Christian sat up, his muscles tensing. He looked around the small room. There was a cheap plastic wardrobe in the corner, a single wooden chair, and a small desk with a few school textbooks. This was Clara’s bedroom. She had given up her own bed to let him rest.He placed his feet on the cold floor and looked down at his hands. They were still dirty from the kitchen grease, but they did not belong to a beggar anymore. They belonged to Christian Ster

The giant yellow bulldozer let out a loud roar, blowing thick black smoke into the air. The heavy metal tracks crushed the trash cans on the sidewalk, turning them into flat pieces of plastic. Clara was standing on the porch of the diner, her hands gripping the wooden railing so hard that her knuckles turned white. Peter stood right behind her, his face completely pale as he stared at the massive iron blade coming toward their home.Stop. Please stop. Clara screamed, her voice cracking with pure terror. You cannot do this. We live here. This is our shop.The bulldozer stopped just three feet away from the diner's front door. The engine was still shaking the ground. Kane stepped down from the side of the driver’s cabin, a nasty grin on his bandaged face. Next to him walked a short, fat man wearing an expensive grey suit that looked too tight for his big belly. This man had a gold watch on his wrist and a cruel look in his small eyes. His name was Miller, the most corrupt landlord in

The muddy street was completely quiet except for the low hum of the bulldozer engine. Miller stared at his phone lying in the dirty water. The terrified screams of his big billionaire boss were still echoing in his ears. His fat body began to shake so hard that his knees sank deeper into the cold mud. He looked up at Christian, his eyes wide with absolute horror.Who are you. Miller whispered, his voice cracking like dry wood. Please, who are you.Christian did not say a word. He just stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. Beside him, Vance adjusted his clean suit and looked down at Miller with total disgust.Your boss is right, Miller, Vance said, his voice cold and steady. Your company is dead. Ten seconds ago, an anonymous buyer used the ultimate power of the Sterling Group to purchase every single share of your corporation. You do not work for a billionaire anymore. Your boss is now a beggar compared to the man standing in front of you.Miller felt his heart drop into

Julian walked forward with a slow, proud step. He tapped his expensive leather cane against the concrete with a sharp click after every pace. His eyes looked around the small, old diner porch with total disgust, as if he were walking through a pile of rotting garbage.When he reached the bottom of the wooden steps, he stopped. He looked at Christian’s dirty shirt and torn jeans, and a cruel, mocking laugh came out of his mouth.What a filthy place, Julian said, his voice high and annoying. And what a filthy person standing here.Christian stayed perfectly still. He kept his head lowered just a little bit so that his long, messy hair covered the top of his face. He wanted to see what this fool would do.Vance stood in the shadows near the black SUV, his hands tightening into hard fists. He knew exactly who Julian was. Julian was not part of the Sterling family, but he was a spoiled young master from the prominent Vance family branch that had allied with Christian's corrupt relatives. J