0030
Author: Calendula
last update2025-01-07 14:57:25

That was the sound of a woman crying as she held her two month old baby in her arms.

All eyes turned toward her.

The woman collapsed to the ground, clutching tightly onto a badge bearing the image of a handsome man in uniform.

Tears streamed down her face.

With trembling hands, she held up the badge for everyone to see.

“He... was my husband,” she choked out between sobs.

“He promised he’d take leave after a month.”

“He said he’d come home, hug me, and see our newborn baby...”

Her tear-swollen eyes looked down at the tiny infant in her arms.

“But... he never even got to feel how soft this baby’s skin is.”

“He never came back.”

Her husband had died nearly a month ago in a terrorist attack during a peacekeeping mission.

Her sobs grew louder, her frail body shaking with the weight of her grief.

Then, with a hoarse and broken voice, she whispered, “This baby... never knew his father.”

Her swollen eyes bore into Dominic, radiating anger and an unshakable pain.

“I’ve already lost my husband
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  • 0134

    A waiter wearing a black suit with a satin tie looked panicked for a moment, but quickly composed himself and stood straight in front of the round table, his voice still polite and formal. “Does anyone here have a personal doctor tonight?” he asked, looking at the thirteen guests seated around him. “There is an emergency… a guest suddenly fell ill and needs immediate medical treatment." Some of the guests just exchanged glances, then slowly shook their heads. A man in a dark blue Zegna suit looked at the waiter with a faint smile and said, “Of course we did not bring a personal doctor to a business gala premiere. We came here to discuss business, not to treat someone who is sick.” A few other people at the table chuckled softly, clearly showing their indifference. They went back to their conversations, sipping wine, and occasionally laughing lightly, as if the waiter's problem did not exist. At that moment, Max leaned forward and looked at the waiter who seemed hesitant. “What h

  • 0133

    The table fell silent. Frans glanced at Max, then slowly raised his hand. “Me,” he said, trying to sound confident. “My name is Frans, Director of the newly established Vesula branch of Max Corp. I came with Mr. Max, the owner of Max Corp.” Several people at the table raised their eyebrows. Others gave faint, crooked smiles… not friendly smiles, but ones filled with cold judgment. A woman in a black velvet gown with a large pearl necklace looked them up and down, then whispered to the man beside her. The man, wearing a silk-lined Tom Ford suit, only chuckled quietly. “Max Corp…” the old man murmured while swirling his wine glass. “A name unfamiliar to my ears.” Frans tried to smile. “We are indeed newcomers to Vesula, but we are committed—” “Newcomers,” interrupted a young man in a dark blue Zegna suit. “No wonder… your suits look worn and cheap.” Frans tensed slightly, but Max remained calm, his gaze steady. A few other guests gave thin laughs. To them, the business world in

  • 0132

    Max only gave a quick glance, remaining calm. On the left side, a row of drink tables was attended by bartenders wearing white jackets and silk gloves. Old wine bottles from Château Margaux and Romanée-Conti were displayed on glass shelves, each worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Some guests sipped special edition Armand de Brignac champagne, its bottles coated in pure gold. The atmosphere inside was not just luxurious, it was truly exclusive. Guests spoke in a mix of languages. Some spoke Vesulan, Mororwian, even French and Italian. Their voices were low and calm, filled with confidence. The air was filled with the scent of niche perfumes made in limited quantities: Oud from Arabia, French extrait de parfum, and cinnamon from India. Frans even saw a woman walking past him wearing a haute couture gown sewn with platinum threads, paired with a rare blue diamond necklace that was probably worth more than everything inside his house. In the corner of the room stood a small st

  • 0131-

    Frans was still standing near Max's desk after Sarah left. He toyed with an invitation envelope in his hand, then said in a casual tone, "Bro, it seems like all the guests tonight have partners." He glanced at Max with a teasing smile. Max raised an eyebrow, his gaze flat. "So?" Frans chuckled. "I mean, aren't you going with a partner? I can order a woman for you. Just pick, a model or a socialite, everything can be sorted out before the night." Max shook his head without hesitation. "No need. I'll just go with you." Frans shrugged. "Alright then..." *** Night fell. The Executive Gala was a monthly event regularly held by level 3 companies in Vesula. Its purpose was clearly to strengthen relationships, expand connections, and for some, to show off their wealth. The parking lot of the Vesu Hotel was packed with luxury cars. There were rows of glossy black Rolls-Royce Phantoms, a sapphire blue Bugatti Chiron, a futuristic McLaren Speedtail, and even an Aston Martin Valk

  • 0130

    Zoza and Jamie exchanged glances, then stood up almost at the same time. "I am leaving now," Zoza said briefly, already reaching for her jacket. Jamie only nodded at Max, then followed behind her. Frans also got up, closing the folder he had opened earlier. "I am going back to my office," he said, leaving without looking back. Once the door closed, the room was left with only Max and Sarah. Max did not say a single word. He only lifted his chin slightly, giving a subtle signal for Sarah to come in. Sarah stepped closer and sat in the chair across from Max. She took a deep breath, still looking wet from the rain. "It is pouring outside. I got out of my car and walked from the parking lot to this building without an umbrella. There were no security guards either. Really..." she moved her hands in frustration. "This company is not open yet," Max replied flatly. "There are no workers here yet, including security guards." Sarah fell silent. Her hand moved to fix her mes

  • 0129

    Meanwhile, in Vesula... at Max Corp. In Max's office, the scent of black coffee mixed with the smell of paper documents filled the air. Frans sat in a black leather chair in the corner of the room, toying with a pen, his eyes focused on the report on his lap. Zoza leaned against a long table in the middle of the room, his arms folded, his expression unreadable. Jamie, with the gray hoodie that always covered half his face, stared at the laptop screen he had just closed. "It's done," Jamie said flatly. "The bounty on you and Aurora has been deleted from the dark web, Boss Max. All backup links, mirror sites, and distributed storage have also been cleared. No one will find it again." Max, sitting in his chair, nodded expressionlessly, only tapping his fingers on the armrest. "Good. Good job, Jamie." Zoza chimed in, "About Racun situation is also finished, Boss. It turns out he had no official identity. No birth records or family records." He looked at Max, then continued,

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