The heavy plastic slam of Jarren Corpuz's tablet striking the polished mahogany desk fractured the heavy afternoon silence of his office, echoing against the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlooked the sprawling Manhattan skyline.​"Shit! Crazy woman!"​He threw himself back into his ergonomic leather chair, his throat dry, swallowing hard against a sudden constriction that tightened his chest like a vise. The double doors swung open without warning, revealing his executive secretary, Terry Martyns, her heels clicking a rhythmic, unapologetic tattoo against the hardwood floor.​"Bad mood today, Boss? I mean, your mood is always bad, whether we're talking about the market or your temperament," she chuckled, her tone dripping with dry amusement.​He pinned her with a glare so venomous it could have withered flowers, but Terry merely pulled out the visitor chair opposite him, sinking into it with maddening ease while keeping her sharp, observant eyes locked onto his face.​Jarren

Jarren Corpuz stood in the dim, enclosed firing range, his chest heaving with a suffocating mix of fury and betrayal. The deafening crack of gunfire was the only medium capable of absorbing the raw, venomous rage he harbored toward the Joans family. With heavy tactical muffs clamped firmly over his ears, a low, primal growl tore through his throat as he raised the weapon. In a burst of absolute precision, three consecutive rounds erupted from the barrel, the sharp recoil echoing through his bones as he poured every ounce of his hatred into the trigger.He yanked off the hearing protection, tossing it onto the wooden counter. His dark eyes remained fixed on the human silhouette target suspended down the corridor, burning with an unyielding glare."Bullseye, Boss!" his trainer called out, peering through a spotting scope with wide eyes. "All three shots went through the exact same hole!"Jarren did not answer. He laid the sidearm onto the counter, its steel frame still radiating heat. W

Jarren Corpuz walked through the automated sliding doors of the Joans Group lobby, carrying an expensive leather envelope while wearing a tailored midnight suit darker than a moonless night and a luxury wristwatch that cost more than two high end condominiums.The ambient temperature of the bustling ground floor seemed to drop the moment he crossed the threshold. His dark hair was swept back meticulously, accentuating the sharp planes of his face and the silent fury burning behind his tinted sunglasses. Employees scurried past with hurried steps, avoiding eye contact as though witnessing a ghost walking among the living. He kept his stride steady, refusing to let the heavy weight of impending conflict compromise his posture.Before he could reach the elevator banks, Niro intercepted him with a predatory grin plastered across his face."Taking a leisurely stroll through forbidden territory, Jarren Corpuz?" Niro asked, his voice laced with venomous amusement as he stepped directly into

Nerissa stood in the tense, echoing lobby of the corporate building as her cousin Damian stepped closer, his jaw clenched in tight, theatrical frustration. "Neri, you really need to defend your brother against your ex-boyfriend," Damian urged, his voice pitching high with indignation. "He constantly bullies Niro every single time their paths happen to cross in these hallways." Nerissa kept her posture rigid, though a familiar weight settled deep in her chest. "Damian, I honestly would have stepped in right away if I had only been standing here a minute ago." Before she could offer more, a soft, strained sound drew their attention to the side. Niro stood rubbing his jaw, his eyes downcast in a picture of quiet distress. "Jarren is completely crossing the line with how physically abusive he is becoming, the absolute bullshit," Niro murmured, his voice trembling just enough to draw an immediate wave of sympathetic pity. "Just take Niro down to the corporate building clinic, Damian,"

The backseat of the luxury car offered a profound, suffocating silence. Jarren sat perfectly still, utterly bewildered as to why a legendary figure like Luciana Harolds had taken any interest in him at all. After what felt like an eternity, the heavy glass doors of the Joans Group company building finally slid open, and Luciana emerged. Even from a distance, her presence commanded absolute attention, prompting her two personal security guards to sprint ahead and respectfully pull open the heavy rear door of the vehicle.Jarren watched closely, taking in the unmistakable deference with which the heavily built guards treated Luciana Harolds. She slipped gracefully into the leather interior, sliding across the spacious seat until she came to rest right beside him."Your life after this will become hell, Mr. Corpuz," Luciana said to him.He swallowed hard, the dry lump in his throat catching him off guard as he scrambled for a response. Her words carried a strange dual weight, stinging hi