Hearing Erica’s respectful tone over the speaker, Anita leaned in with a sharp look. Her mouth twisted into a cold grin."Seriously? Is this your best trick?" she asked, turning toward her mother with mockery in her voice. "An actress. He actually hired a woman to pretend over the phone. How pathetic."Deborah crossed her arms tightly, her face red with frustration. "You have some nerve," she barked into the phone at Erica. "How dare you help him with this ridiculous lie? Do you take us for fools?"Erica’s firm voice came through the speaker. "I do not know what issue you have, but I assure you—""Save it," Anita cut in sharply. "Nobody in this room is buying your little performance. Honestly, Marcus, this is low, even for someone like you."Marcus opened his mouth to speak, but Deborah cut him off instantly. "That is enough! Do you really think these foolish games will work? You have made enough of a fool of yourself today."Marcus held his phone, his grip tightening as Erica tried t

Upon hearing what Marcus said, Anita’s confident smile turned into a smirk as she crossed her arms, her voice laced with hostility. “You really think you can outbid me here, Marcus? Do you even know what you’re doing?” She leaned slightly toward the stall owner, speaking loudly enough for the gathering onlookers to hear. “Well if you don't know, let me tell you Julius came here with me,” Anita declared loudly. “He’ll be here any second, and trust me, he won’t let a poor fool like you try to act smart.” Her words were meant to cut, to humiliate. She raised her phone, tapping out a quick message to Julius, clearly summoning him to the scene. At that moment the stall owner, sensing drama brewing, seemed more entertained than concerned about the outcome, knowing he would have doubled the price very soon. However, it didn’t take long before Julius appeared, walking briskly through the market toward the group. Anita immediately brightened, gesturing to him as though presenting her ace.

Upon hearing what Marcus said, Jerry's smirk faded into an ugly scowl as the words hung heavy in the humid night air. “You certainly talk big for a man backed into a corner,” Jerry growled, snapping his fingers sharp and loud. From the dimly lit interior of the private garage, a formidable figure stepped forward into the harsh fluorescent light, his movements fluid and precise, reminiscent of a shadow predator stalking its prey. This was no ordinary hired brawler; this was Reginald, an elite combat instructor whose name carried lethal weight across the martial arts underground. Rumors recounted him incapacitating dozens of armed opponents single-handedly during a private cartel dispute, and his terrifying mastery over vital pressure points had earned him the ominous title of "The Unyielding Phantom." Every calculated step he took demanded total silence, his body language radiating quiet, brutal efficiency. “Now here is someone genuinely worthy of your attention,” Jerry sneered, gest

Upon hearing what Marcus said, Mr. Matthew leaned forward over his mahogany desk, his eyes gleaming with intense anticipation. “Young Master Marcus,” he offered smoothly, his tone rich with admiration, “this is a magnificent piece. I am prepared to offer you ten million dollars on the spot.” However, Marcus’s expression remained entirely unruffled, his posture relaxed and steady as he met the collector's gaze. “I appreciate the generous offer,” he answered calmly, his voice completely void of hesitation. “However, this piece is not for sale.” Mr. Matthew blinked in sheer surprise, caught off guard by the total firmness in Marcus’s voice. “Not for sale?” he echoed, leaning back into his leather armchair. “Surely we can reach a sum that makes it worth your while. Simply name your price.” Marcus shook his head gently, his stance immovable. “This is not a matter of money,” he clarified evenly. “I acquired this artifact specifically as a gesture of respect for an elder. Selling

Right at that second, Anita’s phone started ringing in her hand. Her sour face brightened up instantly as she tapped the screen and brought the phone to her ear. She listened quietly for a few seconds before looking up at her father and announcing, "Marina is throwing her birthday party over at the Royal Palms Club!" "Then off you go," her father instructed with a warm smile, though his eyes sharpened as he looked between her and Marcus. "And make sure you take Marcus along." "Father!" Anita gasped, nearly dropping her drink on the floor. "You cannot seriously expect me to—" "I said both of you, together," her father stated, his firm tone cutting off her complaint before she could finish. "Send me a picture the moment you step inside." Anita stood there frozen as anger, shock, and disbelief rushed over her face. This was the same Marina who had stood beside her laughing and throwing insults at Marcus right outside the club entrance just a few days ago. Was her father really forcin