“Mr Devon, I’m Sandra’s brother,” he said, stretching his hands but he was simply ignored. Mr Devon eyes racked his body with disgust that he had to look at himself but he was perfectly fine.Mr. Devon's gaze turned to Marcus, his face contorted in disgust. Without a second thought, he blurted out, "I'm sure you can smell that unpleasant odor. Well, it's coming from this ragamuffin standing in front of me." He pointed an accusing finger at Marcus, who merely shook his head, unimpressed by the man's display of arrogance. He wished he could just tell him to shut up before his mouth be the cause of Gigi’s downfall.Mr. Devon's face grew hot with rage. "How dare you speak to him that way. Do you know who he is?" he thundered, his voice reverberating in the room. Marcus shot him a warning glare, his foot stomping down on Devon’s feet in an attempt to silence him. One more word from Devon would reveal Marcus Identity. Sandra's brother, stunned by the sudden outburst, stammered, "Sir, h

Marcus was paralyzed, his gaze locked on the image of his home ablaze, the flames dancing in his vision like a mockery of his life. He searched his memory for any potential culprits, but his mind drew a blank, his thoughts a tangled web of confusion and disbelief. He wondered if his previous enemies knew he was alive. Sandra, oblivious to Marcus's distress, turned to address him. "Marcus," she began, her voice brimming with excitement. "Do you think he'll change his mind?"Her question hung in the air and she waited for his response but she got none. “Mar…” she called out as swung around to face him, but the words died on her tongue as her eyes met his."Marcus," Sandra called out, her voice laced with concern as she hurried towards him. "Is everything okay?"But Marcus remained silent, his eyes fixed on the image that still haunted his phone's screen. Sandra's hand shot out, snatching the device from his grip."Oh my God!" she exclaimed as she took in the image. "Who sent this?""

Marcus was seething with rage. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel of his car, his knuckles turning white as he read and reread the message. It was as if the words had been carved into his mind, taunting him with their accusation. He tried to think if had any issues with Don but none was coming to his mind. "Don," he spat through gritted teeth, his voice trembling with anger. "You've gone too far. You've bitten off more than you can chew." With a swift motion, Marcus started the car, his foot pressing down on the accelerator as he pulled out of the driveway.Sandra watched Marcus's car speed off, its engine roaring with the force of his fury. Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion, her thoughts racing as she tried to make sense of his abrupt departure. With a concerned frown, Sandra pulled out her phone, her thumb swiping over the screen to dial Marcus's number. But he did not pick up, his silence only heightening her anxiety. Where did he go? she whispered, her voice tinged

Don and his entire family stepped out, their smiles wide and radiating as the press focused their cameras on them. Don’s father began to speak, his voice carrying across the crowd. “As you all know, we are philanthropists—people who help the poor and build homes for those in need.” The crowd erupted into applause as Marcus checked his wristwatch, a small chuckle escaping his lips.Marcus took a seat, puffing on his shisha as a grin spread across his face. He watched Don and his family with a sense of anticipation, knowing that his revenge was near. In his mind, it was only a matter of time before Don would be forced to leave this place in shame. As the press snapped pictures of Don and his family, Marcus continued to observe them, each inhale of smoke a reminder of the power he held.With a gleam of satisfaction, Don pressed a button, sending a beam of light onto the projector. The crowd erupted in applause, a flash of light illuminating Don’s smile. But just as quickly as the room

Don Father dialed the number again, but was met with silence. He gritted his teeth in frustration and called one of his men. "Any information?" he asked, his voice tinged with anger. "Yes sir," the man replied. "I was just about to call you. There is no trace of who did this, but the person left a message."Don Father's patience snapped. "You can't do a simple job? You're telling me there's no information?!" he roared.“I tried my best sir!”The phone call ended with a click, and the Don Father seethed. "Your best isn’t enough," he roared, frustration boiling within him. Kneeling to Marcus was his only option, but the thought of it made his blood boil. In desperation, he dialed the Chief Police Officer, but the call was declined. The Don Father hissed, his pride bruised as the officers in the station stared at him with a mixture of fear and disgust. He’d once commanded respect, but his empire was now crumbling around him.Fuming, the Don Father stormed out of the station and into