2025-04-11 18:18:11As Mr. Webb entered, a wave of submission swept through the lounge. Every head bowed. Employees straightened their backs, hostesses folded their hands, and the music lowered as if the walls themselves knew better than to offend him.
Carl Webb owned this place. Evergreen Lounge was his kingdom, and in his eyes, only the worthy deserved to be in his presence. His gaze was sharp, his stance unwavering—a man accustomed to power, to having the world bend to his will.
Raymond’s girlfriend was enthralled.
This was the kind of power she craved—the command, the respect, the fear. But a part of her wished this was Jerry Haas instead. If Carl Webb commanded this level of submission, she could only imagine what it would be like when Jerry walked into a room.
Carl walked up to Raymond, greeting him with a firm handshake, the kind exchanged between men who knew their places in the hierarchy. But his eyes barely lingered before shifting to the unwelcome presence standing nearby.
Jackson.
Carl’s face darkened.
How had this nobody even made it past the door?
Tricia and the other hostesses stiffened. They knew Carl’s type—men who saw themselves as kings, who despised anything that reminded them of peasants and paupers. Jackson was a stain on the room, a mockery of everything Evergreen Lounge represented.
It was a shame they had let him in at all.
Carl didn’t hesitate.
He closed the distance between himself and Jackson, scanning him from head to toe as if assessing a cockroach on his pristine floor.
Then—a slap.
The second slap of the night.
Jackson’s head snapped to the side, the sharp sting echoing in the suffocating silence of the room.
A barrage of insults followed.
"Miserable fool. Polluting my establishment with your presence."
"You should be licking the floor beneath my feet."
"Who gave you the audacity to confront a VIP? To even breathe the same air as my esteemed guests?"
Carl’s voice dripped with disgust, his words slicing through the room like a blade.
Raymond’s girlfriend was ecstatic.
She laughed, clapped, practically jumped with excitement. This was power. Raw, unfiltered dominance. She loved every second of it. But she couldn't help but imagine—what if it was Jerry instead?
Jackson held his cheek but didn’t flinch.
He simply smiled.
He had done nothing wrong. His entire life, he had asked for just one thing—to be treated like a human being. Yet men like Tyler, Linda, Jonah, Raymond, and Carl always found ways to remind him that, in their eyes, he was nothing.
He swallowed the pain.
He said nothing.
He would wait for Jerry Haas to arrive and finish what he came for.
But Carl wasn’t done yet.
He saw the way Raymond’s girlfriend was looking at him—like a god. And it fueled his pride.
Why stop now?
"Crawl," Carl commanded, his voice thick with arrogance.
The room stilled.
Carl smirked, turning to the exotic woman who was practically wrapped around his arm now.
"Apologize to the lady," he ordered Jackson. "On your knees."
The woman beamed.
This? This was a real man. Someone who could demand submission and get it. She held onto Carl’s arm, forgetting Raymond entirely, waiting for the moment Jackson would bow before her.
But Jackson didn’t move.
He didn’t even blink.
He simply scoffed.
Carl’s smirk disappeared.
This wasn’t just defiance—it was an insult.
His face twisted with rage. "Get him on the ground," he barked at the security team.
Immediately, the head of security and his men seized Jackson, their grips tight and unforgiving. They were just about to force him down when—
DING.
The elevator opened.
And everything stopped.
The music cut out. Conversations died mid-sentence. Glasses were placed down carefully.
A collective chill ran through the room.
Carl’s heart skipped.
He already knew.
Only one man could command this kind of silence.
Jerry Haas.
Jerry rushed out of the elevator, which was unusual, as he always walked majestically. His move this time could only mean one thing to everyone who saw him—there was trouble.
Jerry Haas is the head of management at Sky Tower; he was two hundred million dollars shy from a billionaire. He was powerful and highly connected, especially since everyone knows he worked for the subordinate of the owner of Sky Tower.
Also, he was highly respected by everyone.
Carl’s face tightened. He quickly signaled the security to keep things quiet. If Mr. Haas saw this mess, he’d be humiliated. Worse—he could lose everything.
The woman’s grip on Carl loosened.
Her eyes widened as she adjusted herself, hoping to look as irresistible as possible. This was her moment.
But Jerry wasn’t looking at her.
He wasn’t looking at Carl.
He was looking at Jackson.
Then, to the horror of everyone in the room—
He bowed.
A full 90-degree bow.
"Mr. Hart, I am deeply sorry for my lateness. Please forgive your humble servant!"
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Chapter 368: Time To Come Back Home!
“Isn’t she?” Don took a slow sip of water, his eyes never leaving hers. “She took in a woman who compromised your relationship. She listened to a stranger’s story over your lived experience. She asked you to swallow your pride, your pain, for the sake of her own moral posturing. That is not solidarity, Samantha. That is patronage. She keeps you close to feel better about herself, not to protect you.”Each sentence was a brick, building a wall between her and the memory of Hailey’s laughter, her unwavering support during the darkest days after Jack. The wall obscured the truth that Don’s own manipulations had been the catalyst for Jack’s death. In her vulnerable state, the simplified, brutal logic of his words began to overwrite the messy, complicated truth.“Evans is lost in his own world,” Don continued, mercilessly. “A useful man, perhaps, but compromised. Unreliable. And this nurse… Lorraine. She is a symptom of the disease, not the cause. The cause is your continued allegiance to
Chapter 367: A Father’s Manipulation!
The amber liquid arrived, catching the low light like a captured fire. Samantha lifted the glass, the first sip a familiar, welcome burn that traced a path of heat down her throat, momentarily eclipsing the cold knot in her stomach. She took another, longer pull, willing the alcohol to do its work—to blur the lines, to soften the hard edges of Hailey’s disappointed face, of Lorraine’s frightened eyes.How could she?The question had morphed, twisting into a more painful cousin: Had she driven Hailey away? The bourbon offered no answers, only a deepening haze. She was halfway through the glass, the world beginning to lose its painful definition, when a prickling sensation crept up her spine. A shift in the air. The faint scent of expensive cigar smoke and old-money cologne cutting through the bourbon-and-perfume haze.Someone was behind her. Watching.Her body went rigid, the glass freezing halfway to her lips. Every instinct, honed by a life of navigating corporate boardrooms and pers
Chapter 366: Just A Bottle Of Alcohol!
Lorraine moved toward the door, her movements deliberate. She had no shoes, no money, no real plan. But she had her pride, and a burning need to protect Hailey’s peace. She has no idea yet that Hailey is her little sister Dorin, whom she had spent the last two decades of her life trying to find.But there was this thing about Hailey that she really couldn’t explain, and coupled with the kindness that Hailey had shown her, she knew it would be insensitive of her to be the reason for the fracture between her and Samantha, and with that, she had to leave.Samantha watched her go, her expression conflicted. The righteous anger was still there, but it was now tinged with a sliver of something else—guilt, perhaps, or the uncomfortable awareness that she was casting out a wounded person into the night.As Lorraine’s hand touched the doorknob, Hailey made a decision. “Wait.” Her voice was firm. She turned to Samantha, her own resolve hardening. “Sam, I love you. You’re already like a sister t
Chapter 365: A Difficult Choice!
Hailey shot Lorraine an apologetic, worried glance before crossing to the door. She opened it, and there was Samantha, her face tight with stress, like someone who had spent the entire day working her ass out. That had become typical of Samantha since she lost her brother Jack.."Hey, Sam, come in," Hailey said, trying to keep her voice light, stepping aside.Samantha walked in, already talking. "You won't believe the news vans still camped outside the—" Her words died in her throat. Her gaze had swept past Hailey and landed on the living room, on the figure curled on the sofa in borrowed clothes.All the color drained from Samantha's face. Her friendly, stressed expression twisted into one of pure, icy shock, then hardened into anger."What is she doing here?"The question wasn't curious. It was an accusation, a reminder that not everyone is welcomed, especially not someone like Lorraine."Sam, just try and calm down," Hailey said quickly, moving to block Samantha's line of sight, he
Chapter 364: When Sisters Meet!
"It's secure. We can take you there." She looked at Andrew for confirmation. He gave a tight, reluctant nod, his eyes still glued to the road, scanning for any sign of pursuit.They drove in tense silence to Hailey's apartment building. Andrew pulled into a guest spot near the entrance but left the engine running.Hailey got out and opened the back door for Lorraine, who emerged stiffly, the knife now tucked discreetly but awkwardly into the waistband of her jeans, hidden by her torn shirt. She looked up at the well-lit lobby, a world away from the concrete hell she'd escaped.Andrew rolled down his window. "Hailey. A word."Hailey gave Lorraine an apologetic look. "Just a second. You can wait inside the lobby, it's warm."Lorraine nodded mutely, shuffling toward the glass doors, her bare feet cold on the pavement. She stepped into the sterile, bright lobby and stood just inside, watching them through the glass.Outside, by the car, the conversation was hushed but intense."Hailey, lo
Chapter 363:Unplanned Reunion!
Lorraine then moved like a ghost in the sudden dark, her bare feet silent on the cold concrete. The enforcer was a hulking silhouette, arms outstretched, swearing as he tried to regain his bearings. She slid past him, close enough to smell his stale sweat, and slipped through the open doorway into the dimly lit hall beyond.Freedom was a narrow corridor with peeling paint and the hum of a distant generator. She didn't look back. She ran.The hallway ended in a T-junction. Left or right? She chose right, following the slight draft of cooler air. Her heart was a frantic drum against her ribs, her breath ragged in her throat. The sound of the enforcer's furious yell echoed behind her, followed by the pounding of his boots.The corridor opened into a larger storage area—a cluttered space filled with crates and old machinery. The cool air was coming from a half-open metal door ahead, beyond which she could see a sliver of night sky.She was ten feet from the door when a second man steppe
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