The inner courtyard of the Thompson mansion buzzed with loud, self satisfied laughter. The heads of nine major pharmaceutical families sat around a carved stone table with Mr. Thompson Sr. at the center, their teacups steaming and their faces glowing with smug triumph."Victoria went to every major company in the city," one family head chuckled. He was a heavyset man with a thick gold watch hanging from his wrist. "My steward said she practically begged on her knees.""She came to my gate too," another added, a sharp featured woman in an emerald brooch. "I had her turned away before she could finish her first sentence.""The great Victoria Harlow, crawling from door to door for a nobody," a third laughed. He raised his teacup as though making a toast."Ronald has been coordinating with all of us behind the scenes," the heavyset man revealed with a conspiratorial grin. "He is more than happy to let Harlow Pharmaceuticals eat dirt at the conference if it means destroying Ethan's credibi

Mrs. Hayes' face burned a deep, angry red. Her fists clenched inside the pockets of her coat. Victoria bit down on her lower lip hard enough to leave a mark, her eyes fixed on the floor.Mr. Thompson Sr. raised one wrinkled hand and the room fell silent."If you are here to beg on behalf of this boy," Thompson Sr. said, his eyes fixed on Victoria, "save your breath."He turned his gaze toward Ethan with open contempt."You had the insolence to claim you could secure eight hundred million dollars in orders at a single conference," Thompson Sr. said. His voice carried the slow, deliberate weight of a man accustomed to delivering verdicts."Even I would never make such an absurd boast in my entire career," Thompson Sr. continued. "You are either delusional or you are a fraud. Either way, you are not welcome in this industry."The pharmaceutical leaders erupted again, their voices colliding into a wall of mocking noise."Look at him standing there like a mute dog," the heavyset man laughe

Privately, buried far beneath the volcanic fury, Thompson Sr. suspected the Morgan family had indeed stolen the herb. The timing was too convenient and their nervous behavior when presenting it had not escaped his notice.But he refused to back down. He was the president of the Chicago Medical Association, one of the city's four great tycoons. He would not be shamed by two young people in front of the entire pharmaceutical elite. And beyond his pride, there was a simpler, greedier truth. He did not want to give up the White Dragon Root.Ethan reached out and took the purple sandalwood box from Thompson Sr.'s hand. The old man's grip tightened for a second but released when Ethan's fingers closed around it with irresistible force.Ethan opened the lid and carefully lifted the White Dragon Root from its bed of silk. He turned it slowly in his fingers, examining the dark surface with practiced eyes.Then he pressed his thumbnail into a tiny groove near the base of the root and extracted

"Apologize before this gets any worse for you," the sharp featured woman warned."You brought this on yourselves," another voice shouted.The hall became a storm of jeering, hostile voices closing in from every direction. Thompson Sr. sat back in his chair and watched with mocking, triumphant eyes. Behind the latticed wall, the Morgan family gloated in silent ecstasy.Victoria and Mrs. Hayes stood with their backs nearly pressed together, both of them pushed to the very edge of breaking. Neither of them said it aloud, but both silently prayed that Ethan could pull a miracle out of thin air.Ethan stepped forward. He placed himself squarely between the two women and the wall of hostile faces closing in around them.He had countless ways to force the truth out of Thompson Sr. A silver needle to the right pressure point and the old man would be confessing everything within seconds. But he chose a different path. He wanted the old man to confess willingly, in front of every witness in thi

The Thompson family erupted into instant, hysterical chaos."Spit it up," a Thompson daughter screamed, grabbing her father's arm and shaking him violently."Get the detoxifying medicine from the east wing," a grandson shouted, sprinting toward the doorway."Call an ambulance," another relative shrieked. "He needs emergency surgery right now."Thompson Sr. shoved his daughter away and straightened his back. His bloodshot eyes locked onto Ethan with defiant fury."I am a National Medical Sage," Thompson Sr. declared. "I have studied toxicology for fifty years. If that needle were poisoned, I would have tasted it the moment it touched my tongue.""You are bluffing, boy," Thompson Sr. sneered.Ethan nodded slowly, as though conceding the point."You are right," Ethan said. "A man of your expertise would certainly recognize common poisons."He paused for a beat."But I am curious about something," Ethan continued. His tone shifted into something almost conversational. "Swallowing evidence