2025-06-09 23:57:55
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Chapter 25: Aftermath
The house looked like a war zone. It looked like a hurricane had ripped through it. Broken glass on the floor. Cabinet doors wide open. Torn paper scattered like confetti after a funeral. Lena stood barefoot in the middle of it, her hair wild, her chest rising and falling with erratic gasps as if the air itself was choking her. Her eyes darted around, bloodshot, hunting for a ghost that wouldn’t reveal itself. She was on a rampage, desperately searching, flipping through old documents, yanking open drawers, and throwing things aside. She was looking for something, anything, that could prove Rowan had been working with Echelon Eight. Anything that could explain how her supposedly useless husband had suddenly become some sort of corporate power player. “There has to be something,” she muttered under her breath, tossing another drawer to the ground. “There has to be some proof. Some file. Something to link him to them.” She grabbed the desk lamp and slammed it against the wall. Th
Chapter 24: The Hard Way
Then, in front of everyone, Martin Holt ran across the store—past employees, security, and frozen shoppers—and came to a stop directly in front of Rowan Kane. He bent at the waist. “Mr. Kane. Sir. I had no idea you were in my store. I apologize for everything. I am deeply sorry for this embarrassment.” The silence in the supermarket was thick. Rowan didn’t speak. He let the words hang in the air. Peters, who had been half-standing, dropped his weight to the floor like his spine gave out. Martin Holt turned, saw the girl still clutching her face. “God. Is this what happened?” He turned furiously to Peters. “You laid hands on her?! Are you out of your mind?! You’re done, Peters. You hear me? You’re gone. Don’t come near this building again!” “No. Wait... Mr. Holt. Sir, what are you saying? This man is… he is a nobody. This is all wrong, boss. Please, stand to your feet.”Mr. Holt, as if in obedience, got up, and then he struck Peters with a rather thunderous slap on the very same
Chapter 23: Lesson Learned
“Yes. You are a fat, loud disgrace of a man who thinks authority is measured in decibels,” Rowan said coldly, barely blinking as his eyes bore into Peter’s. Peters scoffed, inching closer with a twitch in his neck. “You’re in my store, running your mouth, insulting me? You must be out of your damn mind. Who the fuck do you even think you are?” His breath reeked of cheap coffee and ego. He raised his hand like a drunk executioner and swung for Rowan’s cheek. But it never landed. Rowan caught the hand mid-air, fingers closing like a steel trap around Peter's wrist. The sound that followed was not a slap—it was a crack. A deep, bone-snapping twist that forced Peters down to his knees in a scream that emptied the store. Peter held his face in shock. He had just been slapped like a little boy. Customers gasped. A few dropped their shopping baskets. Someone cursed under their breath. But Rowan’s expression didn’t change. His jaw was set, cold, quiet, ruthless. “You laid your hands on
Chapter 22: The City That Never Sleeps
“New York. The city that never sleeps.’ It was a quote that came from… well, different people. There is no true originator of the quote. Some quotes write themselves. The line wasn’t a lie—it wasn’t even an exaggeration. On this morning, like every other, the streets pulsed with life. Cars honked, people rushed past each other in a blur of tailored coats and coffee cups, and sirens wailed in the background like a city-wide heartbeat. Rowan Kane stepped out of the sleek black Bugatti Divo, dressed in a clean navy coat and charcoal trousers, his presence commanding without trying. A couple of onlookers turned quickly, phones already out, recording his car before they even knew who he was. In New York, luxury drew attention like blood drew sharks. But Rowan didn’t care. Today wasn’t about him. He crossed the street with measured calm and walked into a high-end floral boutique tucked beside a glass-fronted supermarket. He hadn’t planned to stop—just one of those last-minute impulse
Chapter 21: Smile Of Triumph
Far above ground, at a height of 2,500 feet, stood the man, the mystery, the legend. Rowan Kane. He held a simple cup of coffee, the steam curling lazily upward as his sharp eyes scanned the horizon beyond his office glass facade. The world looked small from up here, but every move below was a game piece in the power he quietly commanded. His smile flickered briefly, satisfied but calculating. The news from the boardroom earlier still echoed in his mind. The shock on Lena’s face when she saw him walk in was palpable, memorable. Sure, her spirit must have left her soul at that moment. He loved how even her proud, strong-woman exterior was shattered before him. And to her, he was only a spokesperson. Well, that was quite a title in Echelon Eight. But what then would be her reaction when she finds out that he was a far cry from being a spokesperson? He laughed as the possibilities floated and danced inside his head. Rowan leaned back, fingers tapping lightly on the polished desk.
Chapter 20: Dancing On Bombshells
Mr. Granger walked into the building, his face flushing red. He walked right up to Ann, the receptionist. “Has Lena turned in today?” he asked. He was visibly flushed. “No, sir. Since your departure early this morning, Lena has not returned. Is there a problem, sir?” the lady asked. “None that concerns you.” He replied and took the elevator to the second floor. He went straight to Megan’s office. Mr. Granger was angry. Lena made a dirty move without informing him or any of the board directors, putting them under the radar of Echelon Eight. “Megan, where is your…” Mr. Granger paused mid-sentence. “Why do you look like trash today?” he asked her, and she understood that her boss was angry for whatever reason, which was unusual. She quickly got up. “Um, what do you mean, Mr. Granger?” she asked. “Your make-up looks smudged, your hair is messy, and this place smells like…” Mr. Granger trailed off, his nose wrinkling. “God. What is that? Perfume… and sweat?” Megan froze for a s
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