Mr. Thompson Sr. crossed the hall in furious strides and kicked Sophia squarely in the ribs before she could even lift her head. She collapsed sideways onto the marble with a sharp gasp.He leaned down and spat directly onto her face."You venomous, scheming woman," Mr. Thompson Sr. snarled. His cane trembled in his shaking grip. "You nearly got every powerful person in this city killed."Mr. Hammond stepped forward next, his composed exterior finally cracking into something raw and furious."You dragged us into a war between crime families without a single word of warning," Mr. Hammond accused. His voice shook with barely restrained rage."I suspect your family staged its own stock crash just to draw sympathy," Mr. Hammond continued. His eyes narrowed with cold suspicion. "What kind of animal destroys her own company for attention?"Henry Bennett shoved through the crowd, his massive frame trembling with grief and violence tangled together into something unbearable. He backhanded Sop

Sophia and Ashley dropped to their hands and knees on the cold marble. They began crawling toward the distant entrance, inch by humiliating inch, in front of the largest gathering of powerful figures either of them had ever seen assembled in one room.The former pharmaceutical queen of Chicago dragged her bruised body across the floor. Tears streamed down her face and left twin wet trails on the marble behind her trembling knees.Old Sam watched from beside the altar and let out a long, weary sigh."A sad fate," Old Sam murmured to no one in particular. "But entirely self inflicted."Director Sanders and the elderly figures who had arrived with William Sanders watched the entire spectacle in cold, unmoved silence. Nobody stepped forward to help. Nobody offered comfort.Victor Harlow stood off to the side with his hands folded behind his back and a quiet, satisfied smile resting on his weathered face.Ethan turned away from the doorway and walked toward William Sanders and his group of

The private hospital room held all four members of the Morgan family, each one wrecked in a different way. Tyler lay flat on his bed wrapped in bandages from chest to ankle, looking more like a mummy than a man. His skin was pale from blood loss and the pain medication kept his eyes half closed.Sophia and Ashley sat side by side on a bench, their knees wrapped in thick, bloody gauze from hours of crawling across the Harlow estate's stone pathways. Every small movement made both of them wince.Diane paced back and forth near the window, her face twisted between grief and simmering fury.Sophia stared blankly at the ceiling tiles above her bed. Her phone buzzed against her leg for the fourth time in two minutes, but she did not bother to check it anymore. She already knew what it said.The Chicago Chamber of Commerce had called an hour ago to inform her, in cold, formal language, that Morgan Pharmaceuticals was being expelled from the organization effective immediately. The Medical Ass

The dining hall exploded into noise the instant Ethan's words settled over the table. Fists slammed against the rosewood surface and chairs scraped violently against the floor."How dare a brute like you challenge Victor Harlow himself," a distant cousin shouted, his face red with outrage."He does not know his place," another relative snapped. "Someone teach this stray dog some manners."Richard stood near the head of the table with his arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with barely concealed delight. Beside him, Uncle Gerald's thin lips curled into a satisfied smirk. Both men were certain this outsider had just sealed his own destruction with a single reckless sentence.Victoria rushed to her grandfather's side and grabbed his arm."Grandfather, please do not take offense," Victoria pleaded. Her voice was tight with panic. "He was only joking. He did not mean it."Victor raised one hand and Victoria fell silent instantly, though her wide eyes stayed locked on his face.The old

The servants filed in and out of the dining hall, filling the long rosewood table with dish after steaming dish. Braised abalone, roasted duck, glazed vegetables, and delicate soups covered nearly every inch of the surface. Not a single fork or chopstick moved to touch any of it.Every pair of eyes in the room stayed locked on Ethan, sitting alone in the family head's chair. The silence stretched thick and suffocating, broken only by the occasional clink of a serving dish being set down too hard.After a few long seconds, Ethan reached casually toward the plate of braised abalone nearest him.Richard lunged across the table with his own chopsticks, aiming to knock Ethan's hand away before it reached the food.Ethan's wrist did not move a single inch. The impact snapped Richard's chopsticks clean in half, the two broken pieces clattering onto the tablecloth.The room, already primed with resentment, exploded the moment Richard's chopsticks hit the table."Who does he think he is," a di