And then, like a glimmer of hope in the darkness, a message popped up: "THINGS CAN BE SET RIGHT IF YOU KNEEL ON THE FLOOR AND BEG MARCUS PUBLICLY." Jack read the message again, his mind racing."What?" Jack shouted, his voice carrying the weight of his shock and confusion. Don, sensing his father's distress, hurriedly rushed over. "What is it, pa?" he asked, his concern palpable.But Jack was unable to find his voice. With shaking hands, he passed the phone to his son, who took it with a questioning look. When Don's eyes fell on the message, his expression shifted from curiosity to pure rage."Who the hell sent this?!" he roared, his fists clenching at his sides as if he were ready to take on the entire world.Jack's voice was weak, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he answered, "I don't know, Don." His hands flew to his head, his fingers running through his hair in frustration. "Apologizing to Marcus in private was already more than I could handle," he confessed, his face a mask

Sandra's newfound power was a double-edged sword, her success provoking the ire of her own family. As the realization of her triumph settled in, Marcus' voice cut through the silence like a knife, his smirk widening with glee."It's time to transfer your share of the property," he announced, his words echoing through the room like a death knell for Sandra's brother. The young man's jaw dropped in shock, the sting of betrayal burning in his chest. Under the collective gaze of the family, Sandra's brother stood frozen, a portrait of defeat and humiliation. The swift reversal of fortune had turned him from a patriarch into a pauper, his wealth and power slipping through his fingers like sand. Marcus, reveling in his victory, was the antithesis of Sandra's brother, his demeanor oozing with smug arrogance as he taunted the fallen man. "We're waiting," Marcus mocked, his eyes flickering to Sandra's brother, whose murderous glare seemed to seek a bloodier retribution. Marcus raised his e

In a gesture of contrition, Jack clapped his hands together, the sound reverberating through the room. "Marcus, I am deeply sorry for the way I and my family have treated you," he said, his voice cracking with emotion.The Xavier family gasped in unison, their eyes bulging in shock at Jack's unexpected words. The press buzzed with excitement, their cameras flashing in a frenzied bid to capture the momentous occasion.Marcus smiled slyly, reaching out a hand to help Jack up. "No, sir, you did not offend me," he said with an air of mock graciousness. Jack gritted his teeth, secretly wishing to lash out at Marcus for his patronizing words. But he maintained his composure, standing up and muttering, "Thank you," through clenched teeth. Just as it seemed that the tension might finally diffuse, Marcus delivered a stunning revelation. "It's your son who needs to apologize for burning my house down," he said, his gaze landing squarely on Don."Get on your knees," Jack snarled, his voice l

Marcus, his mind racing, was lost in thought when the vice's question cut through the silence. "Sir, are you still on the phone?" He asked. “Hmm!” Marcus hummed his response, grappling with the weight of the situation.He spoke decisively, his voice steady despite the internal chaos. "Contact the Army general. I'll be there soon," he instructed before terminating the call. Marcus steeled himself, his determination clear in the set of his jaw as he prepared to face the unknown.As Marcus rose to his feet, his hand hovering near the door handle, Sandra's voice broke through the quietude of the room. "Going somewhere?" she inquired, her posture languid on the bed. "Yeah, I'll be right back," Marcus responded, his reply curt as he hesitated to divulge more."Can I come along?" Sandra probed, her eagerness palpable in her tone.Without a moment's hesitation, Marcus uttered a resolute "No," his refusal steely and definitive.Sandra's eyes widened in surprise at Marcus' unexpected outbur

Owen, the rage finally spent, stood over Amayah, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. His satisfaction was palpable in the stillness of the room, his eyes raking over her battered form with a cruel glint. With a final, vicious kick, he wrenched his foot away, Amayah's agonized wails reverberating through the air. Wrapping her hands around her stomach, she crumpled into a ball on the floor, her body wracked with pain.Owen picked his shisha pot, and with a hiss he opened the door. As Owen left the room, the slam of the door a punctuation mark to his violence, Amayah lay sobbing on the floor, her body wracked with sobs.Twenty-two years of her life had passed without a man raising his hand to her. Marcus had always treated her like a queen, never once inflicting physical or emotional pain upon her. The cruel betrayal of Owen's assault was a shattering blow, his viciousness a shock to her system.Amayah's tears continued to flow, a torrent of grief and pain streaming down her f