When Sultan hit his pad, he slammed the door shut behind him. He hauled himself up onto his king-sized bed, sat cross-legged, and spread the three files out in front of him. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out the tarot card and slapped it down in the middle of the files. "Let's get down to business," he said, addressing the card. Sultan had always been a little quirky, often talkiy with his stuff, like his socks, shirts, pants, and even his door. It was his way of sorting his thoughts and chilling out.Sultan started reciting a familiar childhood rhyme, his voice almost hypnotic. He tweaked the words to fit his situation, his eyes scanning the files in front of him. "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, find a clue and let it grow. If it's true, it'll start to show." His hand moved rhythmically, pointing to each file in turn, until finally landing on the one about the gunshot. It was like he was conjuring up an answer and which file to open first… oh wait, actually it was the case.He pi

The day of Tiana's wedding had arrived, and Sultan was determined to make a statement. Yeah, he had something to say even if not with words.The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the Watson estate. Sultan stood in his bedroom, waiting for Lugard to return with the perfect suit. His mind was still preoccupied with the revelations about Joe Armstrong, but he knew he had to set those thoughts aside for the time being.Lugard finally entered the room, carrying a meticulously tailored suit. "Here you go, young master. This should do the trick," he said, handing the suit to Sultan.Sultan took the suit and examined it. The fabric was of the highest quality, a deep midnight blue with subtle, elegant patterns. The suit was designed to fit him perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and trim waist. "This… is perfect, Lugard. Thank you," he said, genuinely appreciative.Lugard nodded, pleased with Sultan's reaction. "I'm glad you like it. You will definitely make an impre

The room fell into a stunned silence, all eyes of those who knew sultan as Tiana's ex or just his first name turning to Sultan. His heart raced as he processed the groom's words. The missing rings, the public accusation—everything was spiraling out of control.Like seriously? Sultan Armstrong steal?!Ashley’s grip on Sultan’s hand tightened under the table, her eyes wide with disbelief. "This can't be happening," she whispered, her voice trembling.She definitely didn't believe he stole the ring. Well, she didn't know sultan personally to believe be didn't steal the ring, but she knew for sure that Tiana and George was up to no good!Sultan stood up slowly, trying to maintain his composure. "I don't know what you're talking about," he raised, his voice steady despite the rising panic inside him. "I didn't take any rings."He acknowledged he was sultan, the one and only.George’s eyes narrowed. "Then how do you explain your presence here without an invitation?" he demanded, his tone a

Sultan sat in the back of Sullivan's luxurious car, the cityscape blurring past the tinted windows. Sullivan's driver navigated the bustling streets with ease, heading toward a quiet, upscale district. The invitation to discuss a potential collaboration had come as a surprise, but Sultan still took it in, determined to make the most of it.Sullivan sat beside Sultan, his expression calm and composed. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice, Young Master Watson.""It's an honor, Sullivan. Please call me Emmett," he replied, trying to match Sullivan's poise.Also, Sullivan didn't look much older than him, and same time, didn't seem younger than him so, Sultan wanted them to address themselves as peers.Sullivan nodded. "Emmett it is, then. Let's get straight to the point. I've been following the work of the Watsons, and I'm impressed with their innovative approach. I believe a partnership between our companies could be mutually beneficial."Sultan raised an eyebrow

In the midst of a haunted, abandoned industrial site, the eerie silence was broken only by the faint hum of a single dim light struggling to pierce through the darkness.The shadows loomed large, casting unsettling figures on the rusted walls.Amidst this oppressive gloom, three men could be seen. One sat regally on a throne-like chair, shrouded in darkness and mystery, a mask obscuring his face.Another stood before him, head bowed in submission, while the third man loomed behind the seated figure, silent and watchful.The masked man spoke, his voice a low, commanding rumble, "So, Matthew, you are going to be my guise. You have already sealed the deal to work with me, so you know that you do not belong to yourself. As long as you work with me, you belong to me."The man standing in front, eyes fixed on the ground, responded with unwavering devotion, "Forever, Lord, I work for you, and I am for you. As long as we work together."The masked figure leaned forward slightly, a hint of sat