The courtroom hushed as the judge reentered, calling for order. Stephen sat at the defendant's table, his mind racing. He stared blankly at the polished wood, trying to steady his thoughts. His once commanding presence seemed diminished, his shoulders slightly hunched, a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor. Across the room, Enoch watched him with a slight smirk, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.Stephen's mind churned with thoughts of betrayal and desperation. He tried accessing the system, a last-ditch effort to find something to defend himself, but nothing worked. Enoch's hack had been successful, cutting him off from the very tools he had relied upon. The realization of his isolation settled heavily on him, a sinking feeling of doom.Enoch glanced at Victor, who was talking with Ms. Daniels. To everyone else, it seemed like Enoch was Victor's ally, but in reality, Enoch had his own agenda. Victor was merely a pawn, someone to clear the path for Enoch's ultimate goal.

Stephen rushed into the lobby of the Empire Building, his heart pounding with adrenaline. The urgency of the situation drove him forward, his mind replaying the cryptic phone call and his decision to trust the mysterious ally's instructions. As he sprinted down the corridor towards his office, Stephen's footsteps echoed off the polished marble floors. He skidded to a halt as he reached the door, breathless and on edge. Pushing it open, he entered cautiously, scanning the dimly lit room. There, illuminated by the glow of multiple screens, stood a figure hunched over Stephen's computer. "Victor!" Stephen's voice rang out, sharp with accusation and urgency. The figure froze, hands hovering over the keyboard. In a swift motion, he lunged towards the nearest window, desperate to escape. But before he could unlatch it, Stephen tackled him from behind, crashing into the desk with a grunt. The figure retaliated with a powerful punch to Stephen's face, stunning him momentarily. Enduring t

Stephen strode back through the living room, his every step deliberate and filled with authority. His gaze swept over the officers meticulously scouring drawers and cabinets, their actions frozen at his approach. With a commanding gesture, he signaled them to halt. "That's enough. Pack up and leave," Stephen commanded firmly, his voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. His steely gaze brooked no argument. The officer holding the clipboard hesitated, surprise etched on his face. "But sir, we haven't finished the search. We have a warrant," he protested, his voice faltering under Stephen's unwavering presence. Stephen's expression remained resolute, his jaw set with determination. "I said leave," he repeated with unyielding resolve, his authority palpable. The officers exchanged uncertain glances but obeyed, swiftly gathering their equipment and exiting the apartment. Enoch watched with wide eyes, unsure of what had transpired but relieved to see the police depart. Turning to Vic

Victor sat alone in the small, starkly lit room adjacent to the courtroom, his mind racing. His usual calm demeanor was eroding under the pressure. He knew he was cornered. The evidence Ju-won presented was damning, and the cross-examination had done little to discredit him. He needed a new strategy—something drastic. The door opened, and Ms. Daniels entered, her expression grim. "Victor, we need to talk," she said, closing the door behind her. Victor looked up, his eyes filled with desperation. "What's our next move? We need something to turn this around, and fast." Ms. Daniels sighed, setting her briefcase on the table and taking a seat across from him. "Victor, the evidence is overwhelming. Ju-won's documents are authentic and verified. Discrediting him further might not be enough. We need a more concrete plan." Victor clenched his fists, his mind whirling with possibilities. "There has to be something. What about Enoch? Can we use him somehow?" Ms. Daniels shook her head. "En

Victor stood speechless, his face drained of color. He stared at the camera replaying the recording of his damning conversation with Lee. His eyes darted around the courtroom, seeing the looks of shock and disdain on the faces of the judge, jury, and spectators. Stephen, with a confident smirk, locked eyes with the judge, who nodded solemnly. "Mr. Stephen," the judge said, his voice steady, "the evidence presented here is conclusive. You are cleared of all charges." Relief washed over Stephen, but he kept his focus sharp. The judge turned to Victor, whose expression had morphed from surprise to rage. "Victor King," the judge continued, his tone cold, "you are charged with conspiracy to commit murder and embezzlement, as evidenced by this recording. Your actions are reprehensible and will be met with the full force of the law. You are hereby sentenced to 25 years." The courtroom buzzed with murmurs. Victor's fists clenched at his sides, his mind racing for an escape, but there was