Fifteen minutes after the phone call, Dr. Thorne rushed through the heavy mahogany doors of the Dragon Emperor Villa. He was out of breath, silver hair a mess, gripping his metal medical case.He didn't bother knocking. Luke was already waiting in the marble hallway.Luke handed him the heavy titanium lockbox.Thorne took it with shaking hands. He popped the latches. Inside rested the hundred-year-old Blood Ginseng. A thick, knotted crimson root, glowing faintly under the lights."I'll prepare the extract immediately," Thorne whispered.They walked into the living room. Zoe was fast asleep on the plush velvet sofa. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. The heavy white cast rested on her stomach. She already looked better than she had in the slums, but Thorne knew the truth. Her body was failing.Thorne set up a portable medical station on the glass coffee table. He moved with practiced speed. He shaved a tiny piece of the ancient root and crushed it inside a sterilized vial. He

Ding.The elevator doors slid open on the fourth floor of Zenith General Hospital. Sarah stepped into the bright, sterile hallway of the ICU. Luke walked beside her.Before she could look at the room numbers, a voice echoed down the corridor."You ungrateful bitch!"Marcus charged down the hall. His right arm was still strapped in a thick white sling, but his face was red with fury and fresh tears."This is your fault!" Marcus yelled, lunging at her. "You stole our logistics! You took everything! The stress killed him! You killed him!"Marcus never reached her. Luke stepped forward, planted a flat hand against his good shoulder, and shoved him backward.Marcus hit the wall hard. The impact jarred his broken arm. He gasped in sharp pain, his legs giving out. He slid down the wall to the tiled floor, clutching his sling and weeping in broken sobs. Luke didn't look at him again.The sliding glass door to Room 412 opened.Dr. Thorne stepped out, pulling off a pair of bloody surgical glove

Luke felt the heavy weight of her gaze. He didn't flinch. He kept one hand on the steering wheel, maintaining a calm facade under her terrified scrutiny.He leaned slightly toward the old Nokia on the console."You have the wrong number," Luke said smoothly. "I'm not a commander. I'm just an ex-convict named Luke."A heavy pause hung over the line.Then the man on the other end let out a harsh, furious breath. General Thunder had caught the code instantly."Damn it!" the general barked, his voice dripping with disgust. "This useless convict again? I can't believe I just leaked classified intel to a slum rat. Forget everything you heard!"The line went dead.Sarah let out a massive, shaky breath. She slumped back against the leather seat, her racing heart finally slowing. The tension in the car broke.She looked at the cracked phone on the console, then at Luke."Wasn't that General Thunder?" Sarah asked, disbelief in her voice. She recognized the harsh, barking tone from the day Victo

The soft jazz playing from the Bentley's speakers did nothing to calm Chloe's racing heart.She sat in the plush leather passenger seat, clutching her tablet against her chest like a shield. She couldn't stop sneaking glances at the man driving.Just yesterday, she had watched Luke stand in the executive suite wearing a dirty trench coat. Today, in a tailored charcoal suit, he looked entirely different. His broad shoulders filled the expensive fabric perfectly. He didn't look like a new logistics manager. He looked like a billionaire taking a quiet morning drive.What baffled Chloe most was his calm. They were heading into a corporate crisis. They had to deal with the most corrupt officials in the city. Yet his hands rested loosely on the wheel, his breathing slow and steady.Luke's gaze shifted to the rearview mirror. He looked back at the road, then checked the mirror again. The faint, relaxed smile on his face vanished."Chloe," Luke said. His voice was smooth, carrying no panic. "

The thug nearest the lead SUV slung his shotgun over his shoulder, opened the passenger door, and pulled out a thick, rugged mobile POS terminal. A black-market card reader. Syndicates used them to verify accounts and siphon funds into untraceable wallets.He jogged back and handed the device to his leader.The Boss kept his submachine gun aimed at Luke's chest. With his left hand, he snatched the terminal.He looked at the heavy black card on the asphalt, then back at the man in the charcoal suit. He didn't believe him for a second. Zenith Beauty was a regional cosmetics brand. With Frost Group backing, their total net worth hovered around two billion at best.A billion in liquid cash on a single swipe was impossible. A slum-girl CEO wouldn't hand her husband half her company's assets in a pocket card.The Boss crouched down, keeping his weapon raised, and picked the card off the pavement. The metal felt unnaturally cold and dense in his thick gloves. He stood and slid the chip into