Chapter 42: The heavy iron door of the prison cell groaned as it slid shut, the harsh metallic clang echoing down the dark corridor before locking Liam back into the suffocating darkness. He sat on the edge of the narrow metal cot, staring blankly at the stained concrete floor beneath his feet. The air inside the cell was heavy, smelling of rust and damp concrete, but the real weight pressing down on him was the crippling sense of powerlessness that had been slowly eating away at his soul.A sharp, deliberate tap of a nightstick against the metal bars shattered the quiet.Liam dragged his gaze upward, his eyes bloodshot and hollow, to see Officer Garrett standing on the other side. Garrett was a notorious guard in the block, a man who treated rules like mere suggestions and ran a profitable side business trading rumors, favors, and contraband to the highest bidder. He was leaning casually against the iron frame, a cold, mocking smirk playing across his lips."You look absolutely path

Chapter 44Liam stepped through the heavy iron gates of the prison, the cold afternoon air hitting his skin for the first time in months. He wore nothing more than his old, tattered clothes—a frayed shirt torn at the collar and faded pants covered in prison dust. He had no money, no phone, and no belongings to his name, save for the cryptic leather map tucked deep inside his pocket. Yet, despite his worn appearance, his shoulders were set square, and his dark eyes burned like forged steel.He took a single step onto the gravel road, taking a deep, clean breath of the open air. But before his foot could fully touch the pavement, the deafening roar of a high-performance engine shattered the quiet of the facility grounds.A sleek, crimson Lamborghini came tearing down the access road at breakneck speed, the high-pitched whine of its twin-turbo V12 engine echoing against the concrete walls. The sports car screeched to a sudden, violent halt right in front of the prison gates, fishtailing

Chapter 46Liam Blackwood POVThe deafening storm of camera shutters clicked endlessly, a wall of white flashes blinding the afternoon sky.Sandra was still sprawled on the gravel, her hand clutching her swollen cheek, her eyes wide with total disbelief as she looked up at Julian. Her lip trembled, her pride shredded into pieces in front of millions of live viewers.Julian’s face had gone completely pale. The realization of what he had just blurted out—exposing his own family’s greed, slapping his woman, and insulting the public—was settling into his brain like a death sentence. He stood frozen, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as reporters pushed past the guards, shoving microphones directly into his face."Julian! Is it true your father’s campaign is funded by illegal means?""Did you just assault your fiancée on live television?""Governor Harrison! How do you respond to your son’s violent outburst?!"Governor Harrison looked as if he might drop dead of a hear

Chapter 49Philip Blackwood stood in the pristine, marble lobby of Saint Jude’s Medical Center—the largest and most prestigious hospital in the entire county—adjusting the golden cuffs of his tailored Italian suit.To the swarm of doctors and nurses rushing around him, he looked like a frantic, devoted grandson, sick with worry over the sudden collapse of the Blackwood matriarch. His face was twisted into a perfect mask of grief, but behind his cold eyes, a dark triumph was burning."Is the private wing secured?" Philip demanded, his voice carrying a sharp, commanding authority as he walked alongside the chief of medicine."Yes, Mr. Blackwood," the doctor replied nervously, wiping sweat from his forehead. "The entire top floor has been cleared per your strict orders. No outside visitors, no media, and only assigned medical staff will have access to her room.""Keep it that way," Philip said coldly, not even bothering to look at the physician. "If a single reporter gets a picture of he

Chapter 51The high-pitched wail of police sirens echoed against the glass facade of Saint Jude’s Medical Center, reflecting blinding flashes of red and blue across the polished granite steps.In the grand lobby, the lead police officer stared down at his digital terminal, his eyebrows pulled into a harsh, furious line. His eyes flicked from the screen over to the five pristine, pitch-black Maybachs idling gracefully in the driveway, and then back to Madam Sassy, who was standing near the entrance with a forced, trembling smile."Ma'am, this dispatch for a stolen convoy was logged directly from a registered line belonging to a Mr. Philip Blackwood," the officer declared, his loud, authoritative voice carrying across the quiet lobby. "Filing a false emergency report and wasting municipal law enforcement resources is a serious offense. Where is Mr. Blackwood?"Madam Sassy’s heart dropped into her stomach. Her face turned a sickly, pale shade of green as she looked around the vast lobby.