2026-04-13 21:16:28
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Conor didn’t look at them again. Not Ronan. Not Emma. They were no longer worth his attention. He turned. And walked away. Just like that. Leaving them behind. — The hallway was dim and silent. The destruction stretched further than the entrance—doors ajar, walls scuffed, traces of force everywhere. Conor moved through it without hesitation. His eyes were scanning and his mind was calculating. Then— A faint sound. A weak, uneven breath. Conor’s steps stopped. He turned his head slightly. There. Near the side corridor— A figure slumped against the wall. A housemaid. Bruised. Clothes disheveled. Barely conscious. Conor closed the distance in two strides and crouched down. “Hey.” No response. Her head lolled slightly. He reached out, steady but firm, tapping her cheek lightly. “Stay with me.” A weak groan escaped her lips. Her eyelids fluttered. “…M-ma’am…” she mumbled instinctively. Conor’s voice cut in, controlled. “Lo
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Ronan choked, face already turning red, veins bulging as he struggled to breathe. “Y—you—” he wheezed, panic finally breaking through. Conor’s grip tightened. Just slightly. Ronan’s body jerked. A strangled sound tore from his throat. Emma rushed forward instinctively, hands shaking. “Stop—stop, please! You’ll kill him!” Conor didn’t even look at her. He didn’t blink. His voice dropped further and dead calm. “She is my daughter.” Conor’s grip didn’t loosen. If anything— It tightened just enough to remind Ronan exactly how fragile his life was in that moment. Ronan’s legs kicked weakly in the air, his face turning an ugly shade of red, breath coming in broken, strangled attempts. Conor’s gaze never wavered. Cold and unforgiving. “If you weren’t Olivia’s grandfather,” he said quietly, each word landing like a verdict, “you’d already be in hell repenting for what you just said.” Ronan’s eyes bulged slightly. His hands clawed desperately at Conor’s wr
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His hands were trembling as he looked at the empty space. “This is Olivia’s fault,” he spat suddenly. “That woman—she brought this curse into our home!” Emma was as furious as Ronan. “Exactly, grandpa! She always ruins things!” Ronan turned sharply, eyes wild now. “And that man—Conor!” he snarled. “Who does he think he is? Acting high and mighty, provoking powerful families—this is what happens when fools play heroes!” He kicked a broken chair. “They’ve dragged us into this mess! They’ve ruined everything!” His gaze suddenly snapped toward a display case near the wall—shattered. Ronan rushed over, shoving aside splintered wood and broken glass with frantic hands. “No… no—where is it?!” He dropped to his knees, searching desperately through the debris. Then he saw it. Nothing. The velvet slot where it once rested was empty. “My watch…” his voice trembled, then broke into fury. “My $100,000 diamond watch—gone!” His face twisted with rage, veins standing out
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The sound came first. Distant at first—then rapidly growing louder. WHUP—WHUP—WHUP— Helicopters. Multiple. The night air above the parking lot shifted as searchlights cut through the dim sky, sweeping across buildings and roads like searching eyes. Within minutes, black vehicles screeched into the area. Doors opened. Men in tactical uniforms stepped out quickly and professionally. “Secure the perimeter!” “Medical team, over here—now!” “Move! Move!” The store staff stood frozen near the entrance, overwhelmed. One of them stammered, “W-what is going on…?” No one answered him. Because the focus was inside the car. Conor had Olivia in his arms, carefully supporting her upright as she remained unconscious, her head slightly tilted, breathing shallow but stable. A medic rushed forward. “Sir—let us take her.” Conor didn’t move immediately. His eyes were still on her face. “…She fainted from shock,” the lead medic said quickly after checking her pulse
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Another channel opened. Rapid reports. Satellite uplinks. Traffic anomalies. Security breaches. Nick scanned them like a man reading a death sentence in real time. And for the first time in a long while— He felt something close to fear. Not for himself. But for everyone else. Because he knew Conor wasn’t just angry. Conor was quiet. And in Nick’s experience, that version of him— was the one right before everything burned, many people may die tonight. Nick barely had time to register the flood of incoming commands before Conor’s voice cut back in—calm, controlled, but now edged with something far more dangerous than anger. “No.” Nick froze. Conor continued, each word precise. “Send people to the store immediately. Take Olivia to the hospital.” A brief pause. Then— His tone dropped even further. “Then find where my daughter has been taken.” Nick’s throat tightened slightly as he nodded, even though Conor couldn’t see him. “Yes, king. Already depl
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Olivia’s voice shook. “She’s a child.” “I’m aware.” Another casual breath. “That’s why this is unfortunate.” A beat. Then— “Consider this the price for offending Titan Group.” Silence. The words hung in the car. Conor’s face went completely still. The voice on the phone didn’t stop. If anything, it sounded more entertained now. “You people really don’t learn, do you?” the man said lazily, like he was discussing something trivial. “Debt always gets collected one way or another.” Olivia’s breathing hitched again, shallow and broken. Conor’s jaw tightened so hard it looked like it might crack. On the line, the man chuckled. “And since Madam Olivia here is so… principled,” he continued, “refusing to cooperate, refusing to settle things properly, to sell herself to repay the debt—” A pause. Then, colder. “We’ll simply recover what’s owed in other ways.” Olivia’s voice came out barely audible. “…What are you talking about?” The man exhaled, almost
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