THE DISCARDED SON-IN-LAWS GOD-LEVEL DOMINION SYSTEM

Chapter 7

Damien Kane sat in his private office on the thirtieth floor of Kane Tower.

The walls were covered with awards and large photos of him shaking hands with important people. A bottle of expensive red wine stood open on his wide desk. The glass in his hand was half full. He was laughing into his phone with pure joy. The city stretched out below the wide windows like it belonged to him.

"Yes, yes, the Whitmore girl is mine now," he said into the phone. "That useless husband is gone for good. Everything is perfect. We will be the strongest couple in the city. No one can touch us. The future is already written."

He took a sip of wine and smiled at his own reflection in the glass window. He looked strong. He felt strong. For the first time in days, everything seemed under control.

The office door burst open with force.

His secretary ran in without knocking. Her face was white as paper. Her hands held a thick stack of official papers. She was breathing hard. Her heels clicked fast on the floor. "Mr. Kane! Emergency! Please listen!"

Damien frowned hard. He did not like being interrupted. "I am on an important call. Wait outside. Close the door."

"The banks," she said, her voice shaking with fear. She did not leave. "Someone bought all our outstanding loans last night. Every single one of them. They are demanding full payment by five o'clock today. No extensions. No talks. Full payment. The notices are already here."

Damien's smile disappeared at once. He lowered the phone slowly. "That is impossible. No one has that kind of money ready overnight. Check again. There must be a mistake. Call the banks yourself."

"There is no mistake," the secretary said. She held out the papers with shaking hands. "The buyer is a company called Cross Holdings. The same company that took over Whitmore Group this morning. The notices are official. The banks confirmed it three times. I already called them. They will not change the deadline."

Damien stood up so fast his chair fell backward. The wine glass tipped and spilled red liquid across the desk. It ran toward the papers. "Cross Holdings? Who the hell is that?"

The secretary swallowed hard. Her voice became even smaller. "The owner is listed as Ethan Cross."

The name hit Damien like a physical slap across the face.

He grabbed the papers from her hands with force. His eyes moved over the numbers again and again. Eighty million dollars. Due today before five. Bank stamps. Official seals. No room for error. His name was on every page as the debtor.

"This is a joke," he whispered. "That trash had nothing three days ago. He was bleeding in the rain. He was thrown out like garbage. How can he own a company that buys my loans? How?"

His private phone rang on the desk. The screen showed his father's name. The old man never called unless something was wrong.

Damien answered with a shaking hand. "Father, I can explain everything..."

The old man's voice was cold as ice. No greeting. No softness. "You have until five o'clock. If the money is not paid in full, Kane Conglomerate loses everything we built. The banks will take the buildings. The partners will leave. Fix it or do not come home. Do you understand me?"

The line went dead.

Damien stared at the silent phone. Cold sweat ran down his back and soaked his shirt. His hands shook as he put the phone down. The spilled wine dripped onto the floor in slow drops. He could hear his own breathing.

He called every contact he had in the city. Banks. Business partners. Old friends from school. People who owed him favors. Men who used to smile when they saw him. Every single person gave the same answer. The loans had been sold overnight. The new owner refused to wait or talk. The demand was clear. Pay in full by five or lose everything.

One partner even laughed before he hung up. Another said he was already looking for a new deal. No one offered help.

By three o'clock in the afternoon, Damien's office was full of shouting managers and expensive lawyers. Papers covered the desk. Phones kept ringing. No one had a real solution. One lawyer shook his head and said the transfer was fully legal. Another said the banks would not extend the deadline for any reason. A third lawyer simply closed his bag and left without a word.

Damien slammed both hands on his desk hard enough to hurt. Pain shot up his arms. "Find out everything about Ethan Cross! I want to know where he got the money! I want to know who is behind him! Do it now! I want answers before five!"

His secretary nodded fast and ran out of the office. The managers looked at each other with fear. No one wanted to be the next one to speak. The room smelled of sweat and spilled wine.

Damien walked to the wide window and looked down at the busy city. Cars moved far below. People walked like ants. Somewhere out there, the man he had punched in the face three nights ago was watching him fall from the top. The same man he had called a dog. The same man he had thrown into the rain. The same man Vanessa had divorced in front of three hundred people.

His hands closed into fists against the glass. The glass was cold.

Across the street, in a quiet cafe with large windows, Ethan sat at a corner table and drank black coffee. The cup was warm in his hands. He watched the entrance of Kane Tower without expression. People went in and out. None of them looked happy.

The system screen appeared only for him.

[Target under heavy pressure.]

[Mission progress: 70 percent.]

Ethan closed the screen with a thought and ordered another cup of coffee. The waitress brought it quickly. She smiled at him. He did not smile back. He kept his eyes on the tower.

He looked at the time on his phone. Two hours left until five o'clock.

He had time.

Damien Kane did not.

Ethan took a slow sip of coffee and watched the tower across the street. Somewhere on the thirtieth floor, a man who once laughed at him was starting to understand what real fear felt like.

The coffee tasted bitter and good.

Ethan set the cup down and waited for the next move.