2025-06-03 14:51:23
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CHAPTER 183
The room went still—dead still.Even the click of glasses stopped. Even the ever-buzzing executive lounge AC seemed to hold its breath.Chairman Holt.The man was a legend wrapped in authority. A CEO-maker. A career-breaker. His name hadn’t been seen on any official calendar for months. Whispers claimed he had retired early, others believed he operated behind the scenes like some corporate godfather. But here he was, in the flesh, fury carved into every line of his face.“Someone,” Holt said icily, stepping into the center of the lounge, “better start talking. Right now.”The silver-haired executive froze. The flash drive in his hand suddenly felt radioactive.Javier, calm as ever, turned slightly—just enough to face Holt without ever breaking composure.“Chairman,” he said smoothly, voice devoid of fear, “Mr. Whitmore here seems to believe he’s uncovered some sort of... digital conspiracy involving myself. He claims to hold evidence.”Whitmore stiffened. “With all due respect—”“No,”
CHAPTER 182
Javier didn’t blink.Didn’t flinch.Didn’t even bother brushing the small speck of rainwater the man’s coat had flung onto his shirt.The soaked stranger stood in the doorway like a storm personified—hair dripping, eyes bloodshot, breath heavy with rage. The room, which moments ago had been humming with arrogance and champagne, now pulsed with unease.All eyes were on them.“You heard me,” the man growled, stepping deeper into the executive lounge. “You cost me two million overnight. Don’t pretend your hands are clean. You Everharts think you’re untouchable just because you slither through boardrooms instead of back alleys.”Someone gasped. Another exec chuckled nervously, sipping their drink to avoid involvement.“Two million?” Javier asked quietly, voice as still as water before a plunge. “And here I thought you were only worth half that.”The man’s nostrils flared.Snickers from the back. Some quickly smothered.“You think this is a game?” the man snapped, pointing again. “The Stra
CHAPTER 181
Rain hadn’t been forecasted.But the sky above the city wept anyway, a soft drizzle tracing down the polished windows of the penthouse office Javier Everhart rarely used—except when he wanted to be alone. The kind of alone where the world forgot you existed.He sipped his coffee. No cream. No sugar. Just like the man himself—quiet, bitter, and far too sharp to be swallowed comfortably.The storm wasn’t in the sky.It was behind the scenes.Rafael had been noisy, arrogant, and ultimately disposable. But whoever had sent the man in the coat they were the real threat. Professional. Hidden. Strategic.Someone who didn’t throw punches until the knife was already in.Javier set the cup down, gaze fixed on the file folder sitting at the edge of his desk.The name written on it was short.One syllable.Kade.No last name. No digital trail. But whispers connected him to major sabotage operations across the finance sector. Collapsed hedge funds, insider leaks, engineered bankruptcies. Always cl
CHAPTER 180
The heels hit the marble hard, sharp, staccato, and swift.Heads turned. Brows lifted. Even Rafael’s smirk flickered as the voice came closer.“I said—WHAT. HAPPENED. HERE?!”Then the source appeared.A woman. Early forties. Regal. Black power suit sharp enough to cut egos in half, heels so tall they dared gravity to test her. Her shoulder-length hair was perfectly pinned, her designer bag clutched like a weapon, and her glare—oh, her glare—could’ve turned diamonds to dust.She stormed into the boutique like she owned it.Because she did.Cassandra Vale. CEO of the Vale Luxury Group. The woman behind half the boutique leases in the building. Ruthless. Brilliant. And dangerously unimpressed.Rafael’s grin returned, but this time it was cautious.“Cass. You’re just in time—”“Shut. Up.” Her words were ice, delivered with a smile colder than the Arctic.Her eyes snapped to the boutique manager, trembling in the corner.“You. Talk. Now.”The manager stumbled. “Uh—Mr. Everhart was here br
CHAPTER 179
The room went silent again, not from tension, but curiosity. The new man had the kind of presence that demanded attention. Slick, arrogant, dressed in an all-black ensemble that screamed “money” and “menace.” A gold watch peeked beneath his sleeve, the kind people wore not to tell time, but to own it.Javier turned fully now, eyes locked on the man like a sniper sighting a target. His expression didn’t change—still quiet, composed, and unimpressed.But the man smirked wider.“What? No hug for an old friend?”He stepped further into the boutique, the floor-length glass doors closing behind him with a click. His shoes—shiny, imported, expensive—made no sound, unlike Gideon’s once had. This man didn’t stomp.He prowled.Javier’s silence was permission.So the man continued.“Oh, that’s right. We’re not friends, are we? You’re the awkward charity case that used to sit at the end of the schoolyard bench with a book while the rest of us lived.”Someone gasped quietly.Another whispered, “He
CHAPTER 178
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?!”The voice cracked through the tension like thunder through glass.People turned as one, necks craning, eyes narrowing—just in time to see a tall, broad-shouldered man barrel through the boutique entrance. He was dressed in navy—a custom suit with aggressive tailoring—but his expression had no polish. It was raw, furious, and familiar.Roman Crane.Benedict’s older brother.A man known more for temper than tact. For deals done behind cigar smoke and clenched fists. His presence was a signal flare—things were about to turn ugly.He stalked forward, his eyes zeroing in on Javier like a heat-seeking missile. “You smug little coward. I should’ve known you’d hide in a boutique while burning my family to the ground.”Javier paused, his hand just brushing the exit door. He turned back slowly.Not a word.Just a glance.Roman sneered. “What? No cryptic line this time? No silent little smirk? You Everharts really do act like the world should worship your mu
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