Cliff was naturally no fool. The instant he caught sight of Professor Bailey's greedy expression, he immediately understood the man's true intentions.However, both his extraordinary medical techniques that had cured the Mayor and his exceptional physical constitution that made him essentially immune to pathogens—neither of these things could be casually revealed to strangers. The knowledge would raise far too many questions, invite too much unwanted scrutiny.Therefore, Cliff could only respond coolly, "I'm sorry, but the treatment details aren't something I can disclose.""Not something you can disclose?"Professor Bailey's eyes lit up with barely concealed excitement, becoming even more convinced that Cliff possessed some miraculous secret formula for treating this notoriously difficult infectious disease."Well then, I apologize, but according to Summit Hospital's regulations and protocols, you'll be required to remain in mandatory quarantine here

“I’ll admit it, I don’t have Rowan Rowe’s direct personal number,” Cheney Wainright said, his voice dropping an octave as he played the part of a man burdened by humility. He stood in the center of the VIP suite at Summit Hospital, the afternoon sun filtering through the blinds and casting long, barred shadows across the polished linoleum floor. His eyes flickered with a calculated, predatory spark as he adjusted his Floral Tie, a silk piece from a recent International Luxury Brand collection that screamed of wealth he no longer truly possessed. “But the moment Wanda Sutton called me, heart-broken and desperate for her family’s safety, I didn't hesitate. I couldn't. I immediately reached out to Autumn Lee, the CEO of Venture Group. I knew she had the leverage, the connections, and the steel to make things happen. I asked her to intervene personally, and she was the one who managed to persuade the Mayor’s daughter, Rose Rowe, to step in

The air inside the Old Sutton Manor was no longer filled with the dignified scent of aged sandalwood and history; instead, it felt thick, stagnant, and suffocating, as if the very walls were closing in on the occupants. The heavy oak furniture, usually a symbol of the family’s enduring legacy in River City, now seemed like grim monuments in a mausoleum. Outside, the sun was shining, but inside the main hall, the shadows were long and cold.Quinn Sutton sat at the head of the long mahogany table, his fingers interlaced so tightly his knuckles had turned a ghostly white. His brow was furrowed into deep, permanent trenches of anxiety as he stared at nothing, his mind a whirlwind of desperate calculations and terrifying "what-ifs." He was the patriarch of a sinking ship, and for the first time in his life, he had no idea how to plug the holes.Beside him, Trish Wainright was a portrait of hysterical fury. Her face was distorted, her makeup smeared by tears of rage, as sh

The morning sun over River City rose like a freshly minted coin, casting a brilliant, amber glow across the sprawling avenues of the Eastriver New District. Usually, the streets surrounding the Old Sutton Manor were quiet, guarded by the dignified silence of old wealth and ancient oak trees. Today, however, the atmosphere was electric, vibrating with the roar of high-performance engines and the hushed, frantic whispers of the city’s elite. It was the day of The Grand Sutton Ceremony, and the entire social hierarchy of Draconia seemed to have descended upon this single point.The traffic was a slow-moving river of polished chrome and carbon fiber. Armored SUVs, long-wheelbase Rolls-Royces, and bespoke Bentleys lined the curb, their chauffeurs standing at attention. The common citizens of River City, gathered behind police cordons, watched in awe as names they usually only saw on the ticker tapes of the financial news stepped out onto the red carpet. This wasn't just a fami

The sound of the impact was not merely a slap; it was a rhythmic explosion that shattered the carefully constructed silence of the Royal Grand Hotel. It echoed off the vaulted marble ceilings and the gilded moldings of the ballroom, a sharp, stinging crack that seemed to vibrate through the very floorboards. For a heartbeat, the elite of River City froze, their champagne flutes suspended halfway to their lips, as they witnessed the total annihilation of Cheney Wainright’s dignity.Cheney, the man who moments ago believed he was stepping into a godhood of wealth and power, was sent reeling. The force of the blow from Zenith Sutton—a man supposedly on his deathbed just days ago—was staggering. Cheney stumbled back, his polished leather shoes skidding on the parquetry, until he collapsed into a row of silk-covered chairs. His head throbbed, his vision swam with dancing spots of light, and his left cheek began to bloom into a dark, angry purple.“S-Su..