Julian stood by the windows of his private study in the Capital, slowly swirling a glass of dark red wine. Outside, the huge city stretched beneath him, its skyscrapers glowing like cold shards of glass. A sense of dark victory settled deep in his chest."Within seven days, Sarah, you will be on your knees at my party," Julian whispered to his own reflection. "You will beg me for the cure, and you will bring those divorce papers with you."The heavy doors of his study quietly slid open. Julian didn't turn around. The slow, measured footsteps could only belong to one person.Instructor Cole, his childhood teacher and the tactical mind behind Julian's rise, stepped into the room. He wore a sharp, dark coat, his face completely unreadable."Young Master," Cole said, his voice low and rough. "Our network has confirmed that your assistant is still alive. General Thunder is holding him in a high-security military prison in Zenith City."Julian let out a quiet, relieved breath, setting his w

"This isn't a mistake," the professor breathed, his voice barely a whisper as he stared at the glass board.The kindergarten teacher kept bowing, her hands clasped tightly against her bright yellow smock. "I am so sorry, Professor. The playground gate was left open during break. I promise it won't happen again. Let me just take her back to her classroom—""Quiet!" the professor snapped.He didn't look at her. He didn't even look at the two security guards standing behind her, still catching their breath.His eyes were locked on the clean, perfect equations written on the glass.The professor lunged toward his desk, grabbed his tablet, and opened the camera. His fingers trembled."Professor?" the teacher stammered, stepping back.The professor ignored her completely. He raised the tablet and began quickly taking photos of the whiteboard. The camera clicked in a fast, frantic rhythm, capturing every angle of the proof."This is a restricted Capital research method," the professor mutter

The Academy President did not hesitate. The Cross Patriarch's threat to destroy his school before sunset left him paralyzed with terror. Sweat poured down his face, dripping onto his leather desk as he stared at Zoe's enrollment file on his screen."The father... the father is listed as... Luke," the President stammered, reading the name directly from the document. His voice cracked as he stared into the camera. "Just a local citizen named Luke. Patriarch Cross, he has no title. There is no family name next to his. He has no corporate backing or political status in Zenith City. He appears to be a complete nobody."On the sofa, Zoe remained quiet, still watching the tiny green frog behind the glass. She seemed unaware of the storm raging across the desk, her face calm and peaceful.The professor stood frozen near the door, his tablet clutched tightly in his hands as he watched the President scramble. He had wanted to defend the child's genius, but the weight of a Capital dynasty's ange

Zoe slowly tilted her head, her bright, untroubled eyes locking onto the woman sitting across from her."You're the pretty lady who took our picture at the gallery," Zoe said, her voice clear and light in the quiet room. "Do you work in the library?"The unexpected words hit Isabella like a shock, breaking her cold composure. Her mouth opened slightly, a rare look of surprise flashing across her face.She quickly recovered, her features tightening back into a smooth, cold mask. She waved her hand dismissively."I don't work here," Isabella said, her voice a low, guarded whisper. "I'm just studying, little one."Zoe didn't seem to hear her. Her focus had already shifted back to the open book. Thinking Isabella was just another teacher, she slid the heavy volume across the polished table."Teacher, I think there is a mistake in this picture," Zoe said, pointing her tiny finger at a complex diagram. "Can you explain it?"Isabella looked down at the page, her eyes scanning the lines."If

Luke stood next to the stone security booth, his dark eyes calmly scanning the school entrance.His black Bentley sat idling directly in the main pickup lane, its hazard lights flashing in a slow, rhythmic pattern. Behind him, a long stream of luxury sedans and sports cars was blocked, their engines purring as wealthy parents waited impatiently to collect their children.A few drivers honked their horns in annoyance, but Luke ignored them completely. He had spent his morning handling the empty transport manifests at the laboratory, but his focus was entirely on his daughter’s first day.He had not bothered to put his formal suit jacket back on, standing in his grey slacks and a simple white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The other parents in their expensive designer coats dismissed him, completely blind to the silent, commanding presence of the man standing beside them.Luke raised his arm, checking his stainless steel watch.The school bell had rung fifteen min