As Grace left the doctor’s office, she felt so happy.Brian, her baby, was going to be fine.Everything was finally falling into place. Brian was going to get the surgery, and for the first time in years, she would still have over a million dollars to her name.She clutched her phone tightly, ready to transfer the funds and make it official.She walked back toward the waiting room, her hands still shaking from how tense today **had been**.After everything she had been through, after all the suffering and fear, this moment felt good—almost too good to be true.She had secured Brian’s future. She had been saved by a man she barely knew a few months ago, someone most people in Prescott would do anything to have a relationship with, but he had extended his hand to her, of all people.Just as she was about to sit down and begin the transfer, her phone buzzed. Startled, she glanced down at the screen. It was an unknown number. Hesitating for only a moment, Grace answered the call.“Hello?”

vsGrace sat on the cold hospital floor, her body trembling as she continued to cry. There was no way out. Suddenly, she could hear a loud voice from the television mounted in the corner of the hallway. Grace didn’t pay attention at first, but something about the tone of the announcer’s voice caught her attention. She blinked through her tears, slowly looking up at the TV screen. Her gaze went to the headline at the bottom, which read, “Nationwide Scam: Thousands of Victims Report Entire Savings Stolen in OTP Fraud.” Grace’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart raced as she wiped her eyes and focused on what the news reporter was saying. “This just in,” the announcer said in a grave voice, “Thousands of people across the country have fallen victim to a widespread scam involving fraudulent phone calls claiming to be from banks.” "Victims report receiving calls where they were asked to provide one-time passwords for supposed account verification.” "Upon doing so, the

The crowd immediately lunged forward, their faces twisted with anger and desperation. As Darius stepped forward, the mob pressed forward with arms reaching out and their fists raised, trying to rip him apart. People lunged, desperate to touch him, to claw at him, to make him feel the suffering he had inflicted. But the guards were ready, their faces hardened as they lifted their weapons. The first line of people who dared get close was met with brutal swings of metal pipes and bats, the impact on their bones heard loud and clear. A woman near the front reached out, her fingers almost brushing Darius’s suit before a guard struck her hard across the face. She staggered back, blood trickling from her mouth, her eyes wide with shock and pain. Another man tried to break through; he roared and cursed Darius, but the guard swung a bat into his ribs, and he fell, clutching his side, gasping for breath. The crowd retreated in fear and horror. Grace watched in stunned silence,

Grace stayed on her knees, her body trembling as tears flowed freely from her eyes. The dollar bill lay crumpled by her side, reminding her of how she was brutally humiliated. The crowd had begun to disperse, some glancing back with pity, others shaking their heads. Grace clutched her chest, feeling hopeless. All she had fought for, all she had risked—it had come to nothing. Darius’s car had already started to move. As she wept, wondering what she would tell her son, a faint sound in the distance caught her attention. The echo of screeching tires, a crash, and then… silence. For a moment, Grace thought it was only her imagination, a manifestation of the despair inside her. But soon, she saw smoke rising from the intersection ahead, where Darius’s car had been heading. Meanwhile, Darius had been leaning back in his seat, a twisted smile lingering on his face as he left Grace and the crowd behind. In his mind, he was already planning his next steps. But his thoughts w

As Darius lay crumpled on the ground, barely able to lift his head, he could hear the sounds of sirens in the distance. The crowd turned as flashing red and blue lights brightened the streets. Within moments, a convoy of police cars arrived, and the commissioner of police, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a stern face, stepped out of his vehicle, flanked by several officers. The commissioner’s eyes locked onto Nathan—Lord Cloud—and the bloody, beaten figure of Darius at his feet. His face twisted with concern. “Lord Cloud,” the commissioner called out, his voice firm but wary. “This has gone far enough. Release him.” They had been watching the whole ordeal on social media; in fact, the whole world was watching. Nathan didn’t move. He stood tall, unmoved by the commissioner’s arrival. His cold gaze remained fixed on Darius before he finally turned to face the commissioner. “You want me to hand him over?” Nathan’s voice was calm, but the underlying threat was unmistakable.