2025-06-08 00:01:30Ling stood in the courtroom, hands folded, her eyes calm.
The judge’s voice echoed off the marble walls. “Assets seized. All properties and accounts belonging to Marcus Reed are now under court control.” A hush fell over the room. Marcus Reed, sharp suit wrinkled and tie askew, slammed his fist on the table. He glared at Ling, hate burning in his eyes.But she didn’t blink. She was used to men like him—men who thought they could do anything, buy anyone. Brent watched from the back bench. He saw the way Reed tried to stare Ling down, but she never flinched. She only stood taller, chin up.Brent felt a nothing but pride. Ling’s work had been hard—months of digging, reading, and late nights with files spread across her kitchen table. But in the end, she’d done it. Reed’s trafficking ring was finished. Outside, reporters crowded the courthouse steps. Cameras flashed, mics shoved into faces. Brent pushed through,
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231 - REVENGE SERVED COLD
Gregory Lin loved being the loudest voice in the boardroom. He wore tailored suits, always a shade too bright, and carried the latest phone, slamming it onto the table during meetings to get attention. He laughed loudly, cracked crude jokes, and made junior staff uncomfortable with his constant bragging. Years ago, when Brent Walker was just Sarah’s assistant, Gregory made it a point to humiliate him in front of the others. “Coffee boy, can’t you even walk straight?” “What, too broke to buy decent shoes?” Gregory would toss Brent’s paperwork across the table, smirking, while Sarah chuckled beside him. Brent’s jaw would tighten, but he would pick up the papers quietly and continue working. Now, Gregory stood in the shimmering lobby of the Chen Industries tower, sipping his overpriced espresso, scrolling through social media. “Another record quarter.” “Chen Indu
230 - KARMA IS REAL
Tiffany Wu had built her entire identity around being seen. She strutted into the Grand Sapphire Hotel’s ballroom, the hem of her glittering silver dress sweeping across the marble floors. Her hair was styled in perfect waves, makeup sharp enough to slice through the soft lighting. Cameras flashed as she paused at the entrance, tilting her head just right, her lips forming her practiced influencer smile. “Queen Tiff in the building 💅✨.” “Another red carpet conquered.” “#LivingTheDream.” She waved at the sea of influencers and socialites gathered for the Galaxy Influencer Awards, each step a quiet reminder that Tiffany Wu believed she was untouchable. Years ago, Tiffany was Sarah Chen’s closest friend at college. They would sit at the cafe with iced lattes, laughing while Brent Walker mopped around them, wiping tables. “Loser boy, clean faster!” Tiffany had once shouted, thr
229 - LAUGHING STOCK
Vivian Miranda Chen had always believed money was everything. She sipped her imported green tea in delicate silence, seated at the head of a polished mahogany table in the Pearl Club, the city’s most exclusive high-society women’s club. Her diamond earrings sparkled under the chandeliers, and the silk scarf around her neck was embroidered with her initials, “V.C.”, in gold thread. Around her, women in designer dresses laughed lightly, pretending to be gracious while silently competing over handbags, vacations, and whose daughter had the richer husband. Vivian thrived in these games. “Sarah’s been quiet lately,” one woman with pearl earrings said lightly, sipping her tea. Vivian’s eyes sharpened. “She’s focusing on her business. We’re Chen Industries, dear. We don’t crumble.” They nodded politely, hiding smirks behind teacups. Everyone had see
228 - THE CHENS ARE FALLING?
Robert Chen once thought the world would always bow to him. In boardrooms, he slammed fists on tables, made young assistants tremble, and laughed as people scrambled to please him. At home, he was no different, barking orders at Sarah’s mother, telling Sarah she was only good if she married rich. He looked at people like Brent—quiet, broke, eager—and saw them as disposable. “Coffee boy,” Robert would sneer, flicking Brent’s ear as he passed in the hallway. Sarah laughed back then, the two of them acting like royalty, a father-daughter duo in cruelty. Robert Chen owned Chen Industries, and in his mind, he owned the world. Now, the world had shrunk to a single concrete cell. He sat on the cold metal bunk, the thin grey blanket scratchy against his rough prison uniform. The cell smelled of bleach, sweat, and something metallic. The walls closed in, and the small slit of a window offered nothing bu
227 - HR MANAGER'S UNDOING
Richard Tan’s morning always started with expensive coffee and empty arrogance.He sat at his glass desk on the 19th floor of Chen Industries, swirling his latte in one hand while flipping through employee files on his tablet. He liked reading about people’s lives, seeing their weaknesses, their debts, their mistakes. It made him feel powerful.Years ago, he had fired Brent with a smirk, sliding the termination letter across the table.“You’re too slow, Brent. Useless people don’t belong here.”He still remembered the defeated look on Brent’s face, the way his shoulders slumped before he quietly picked up his box and walked out. Richard had laughed, telling his colleagues:“Losers like that are meant to be stepped on.”Now, Richard leaned back in his chair, scrolling through his burner phone, checking notifications from his side hustle. He had a hidden online “career coaching” business, selling fake resume services, taking m
226 - QUIET BLESSING
Mr. Liu’s day started at 4:30 AM, just like every day for the past twenty years. He shuffled out of his tiny apartment in the outskirts of the city, pulling on his faded blue jacket, the zipper stuck halfway. The sky was still dark, only a few stars blinking above the streetlights. He tied his old shoes, the soles cracked, but still good enough to walk the mile to the bus stop. He carried a small metal lunchbox, packed by his own hands—two buns, a boiled egg, and a piece of sweet potato, the same meal he’d had for breakfast and lunch for as long as he could remember. Mr. Liu was the janitor at Chen Industries. Every day, he swept the marble floors, cleaned the glass doors, and emptied trash bins, moving quietly while the office workers ignored him or stepped around him like he was invisible. He didn’t mind. He liked to keep things clean, liked the hum of the vacuum, liked the soft whisper of the broom on the floor.
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