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Chapter one hundred and three
The warehouse, a place abandoned by business, claimed by shadows. Nathan’s car rolled to a stop several yards away.Cassandra gripped his arm. “Are you sure this is it?”Nathan’s eyes fixed on the looming structure. “This is the place.” His voice was firm, but his grip on the leather folder was iron-tight.They stepped out together. The cold bit into Cassandra’s skin, and every instinct screamed for her to turn back, but she steadied her breath. If Nathan could face Liam, then she would too.The warehouse doors groaned open from within. A convoy of black SUVs slid into the lot, headlights cutting arcs across the cracked asphalt. Doors flung open. Armed men spilled out raising their weapons.Liam emerged last. He was calm, unnervingly so, clad in sleek tactical gear that gleamed faintly under the lights. A bulletproof vest hugged his torso, his posture one of a man untouchable.Between two thugs stumbled a figure—Mr. Hayes, bound, gagged, his face mottled with bruises. He was pushed fo
Chapter one hundred and Two
Nathan sat alone in his study, the desk littered with drafts of forged legal documents. His hand trembled slightly as he placed his signature on the last page. The papers looked flawless with watermarks, signatures, corporate seals—but Nathan knew they were a gamble. A desperate play to buy time, to face Liam on his own terms.He leaned back in the leather chair and rubbed his eyes. “Still awake?” Cassandra’s soft voice came from the doorway.Nathan raised his head. She stepped into the study, wrapped in a silk robe.“You should be resting,” he murmured.“I can’t,” she said, her tone laced with emotion. “Not while you’re planning to walk into a trap. And not while Mr. Hayes is—” she stopped herself, lowering her gaze. “Nathan, are you absolutely sure about this?”Nathan glanced at the forged documents, then back at her. “It’s the only way. If I refuse, Liam will tighten his grip. If I comply too easily, he wins everything. This… this buys us time.”Cassandra approached, pulling out a
Chapter One hundred and one
Nathan felt restless for days, the images of his father’s battered face replayed like a cruel film reel, forcing him to confront a truth he had spent years denying: no matter their rift, no matter the wounds, he loved the man.And now, that love demanded a cost.Nathan sat at his desk late into the night, the forged transfer documents laid neatly before him. He stared at them, the black ink glinting under the desk lamp like a trap of his own making. To the kidnappers, they would look real enough. But he knew they were a stalling tactic, nothing more.Across from him, Cassandra perched on the edge of a chair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She hadn’t left his side since the second video arrived. “Nathan,” she said softly, breaking the silence, “you can’t go alone.”He looked up, exhaustion darkening his eyes. “It’s not your fight.”Her voice sharpened. “It is if it risks your life. They could hurt you, Nathan. What if they don’t believe the papers? What if they want to make an e
Chapter one hundred
The day began in silence, and there was no peace. Nathan hadn’t slept all night, his father’s face from the video haunted him, that desperate look in his eyes replaying endlessly in his mind.He stood in the study again, leaning against the oak desk, when his phone vibrated. Unknown number. His stomach dropped before he even swiped the screen. Another message, another video.With trembling fingers, he opened it.This time, the image was darker, grainier. Mr. Hayes sat bound to a chair, his shirt soiled, his hair disheveled. His cheek bore what looked like fresh cuts, though Nathan couldn’t tell if they were real or staged. Hayes groaned, then lifted his head slowly.“Nathan…” his voice cracked, thick with pain. “They’re beating me. I—I can’t take this much longer. Please, son. Do what they want. Please. For once, listen. Don’t fight them. Just give them what they ask. Don’t let me die like this.”The screen shook violently as if someone had struck Hayes mid-sentence. His cry echoed b
Chapter Ninety Nine
The night air at the exclusive Corinthian Club was filled with cigar smoke. The wealthy gathered there never worried about prying eyes. Men like Mr. Hayes, powerful yet elusive, belonged to places like this—where deals were whispered in corners, and secrets had a price.But tonight, Liam wasn’t here for leisure. His pulse beat fast under his tailored suit as he sat in the back lounge, waiting. Mr. Hayes leaned toward him, his silver hair catching the dim amber lights.“You’re certain about this?” Hayes asked, voice low. “Once I vanish, Nathan will be thrust into panic. It has to look real.”Liam nodded firmly. “It will. We’ll make sure he believes. No traces back to us. Just like we planned.”The plan was bold, even reckless: stage Hayes’ disappearance here, in a place where his absence would be instantly noticed but impossible to trace. Mr. Hayes would slip out through a service corridor with Liam’s discreet arrangements, leaving behind a ruffled jacket and a shattered glass that sc
Chapter Ninety Eight
The villa was located at a dirt road, swallowed by overgrown trees. Its windows were covered with heavy black curtains, and its walls bore the chill of abandonment. Inside, dust had been cleared only recently, leaving patches of clean floorboards amid cobwebbed corners. The room at its center had been stripped bare—a chair bolted to the floor, a camera mounted to capture every desperate angle.Liam shifted uncomfortably as he ran his hand along the iron restraints. “You’ve gone too far, old man,” he muttered, though his voice carried more awe than protest.Mr. Hayes stood across from Liam, steadying himself with his cane, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. “Far enough to make Nathan believe,” Liam said coldly. “Your son thinks numbers make him untouchable. He forgets appearances can be manipulated just as easily as paper shares.”Mr. Hayes’ brow furrowed. “And you mean to…?”Liam smirked. “Yes. You’ll play the helpless father, bruised and broken, begging for rescue. We’ll make it con
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