The churning sea turned into a boiling mass of white foam as eight black submarines stood tall like giant dark walls around Lord Malaki’s fleet. The twelve grey warships looked small and helpless trapped between the concrete pier and the massive submarine division.Lord Malaki stood on the wet pier, his mouth wide open, his body shaking like a dry leaf in a strong wind. His expensive silver cigar sank into the dark sea water below, completely forgotten. The fifty private mercenaries surrounding him dropped their rifles onto the hard concrete, raising their hands high into the air with pale, terrified faces.Their brave words vanished into thin air. The heavy red laser dots that were aimed at Christian's chest just a few seconds ago disappeared completely.Christian took a slow, steady step forward, crushing the gold pen Malaki had thrown on the wet ground right under his leather shoe. The metal snapped with a sharp crunch, sounding like a breaking bone in the dead quiet of the docks.

Christian held the heavy gold card in his hand, his eyes cold as ice as he looked at the red text.The Seven Sovereign Syndicate thought they could insult his family name by putting his late father's private treasures up for sale. They wanted to show the whole world that the Sterling family was gone forever, but they were about to learn a very painful lesson.They want to sell what belongs to my family, Christian said softly, his deep voice filling the quiet room with a deadly promise. Then we will go to their private island and take everything back.Clara set her teacup down, her face full of worry as she looked at him. Is it safe to go to their home ground, Christian? The Syndicate controls that island completely.It does not matter what they control, Christian replied, reaching out to hold her hand gently. They think we are hiding in our city, afraid of their power. We will show up at their front door and show them who really rules this world.Old Peter stood up straight, smoothing

The sleek, massive gold-and-black private jet cut smoothly through the dark night clouds before descending onto the brightly lit runway of Sovereign Island.The tropical ocean breeze blew softly against the glass windows as the plane rolled to a steady stop right in front of the island's royal private terminal.Outside, the island was a shimmering paradise of tall palm trees, marble fountains, and glowing white stone palaces. It was the exclusive playground for the richest people on earth, a place where multi-billionaires and foreign lords gathered to trade power and flex their massive wealth.Christian stepped off the jet first, his dark tailcoat fitting his broad shoulders perfectly. He turned back to gently hold Clara’s hand as she walked down the stairs in her flowing midnight blue gown, her diamond tiara sparkling under the bright airfield lights. Old Peter followed closely behind them, wearing his clean custom suit, looking out at the sprawling island with wide, curious eyes.A