"Earlier today at 2 PM, Mr. Lucas Gunn, a butler at the White House, attempted to escape the country while being pursued by the police. The chase escalated, leading officers to open fire on him.According to the Turnish Lead Police, Officer Kingsley Roseford stated that Mr. Gunn was resisting arrest after committing a federal crime against the presidential villa of the Turnish government. In a desperate bid to flee, he ignored multiple warnings. Officer Roseford emphasized that resisting arrest is an unforgivable crime, warranting immediate consequences, including the possibility of termination."Alex watched on the TV, and Anastasia sat next to him in the presidential villa.They listened to the news carefully, as with this, they were able to put every piece of the event that happened together. They knew from this that it was Lucas, a butler of the White House, who helped Ferdinand execute his objective on the soil of the country of Turnish and even at the presidential White House of

The four men in suits exchanged uneasy glances. What did Alex mean by "no"?They hesitated, unsure of their next move. The president had given a direct order to bring Alex to the White House, and ignoring that command wasn’t an option. But how were they supposed to force him? It wasn’t like they could drag him along in the middle of a bustling airport without causing a scene.One of them cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly before glancing around at their surroundings. If they were in a more private location, they could have taken action—perhaps through persuasion or force. But here? They were bound by the public eye, and anything drastic would turn heads.“You really have to come with us, sir,” one of the men finally spoke, his voice hushed. “If you don’t, we’ll be in serious trouble.”Alex exhaled deeply, understanding their predicament. These men were simply following orders. Executive orders carried weight, and if they failed their mission, they’d face repercussions—perhaps even

Langston sat in his office chair, his mind replaying the events from earlier as if they were still unfolding.“How did he do it?” he wondered, still baffled by how Alex had taken on Kingsley just like that—a man three times his size.With a heavy sigh, he ran a hand over his jaw, the weight of his worries pressing down on him. His gaze drifted around his office, but no amount of distraction could ease the turmoil in his mind.“He’s figured us out. There’s no way I can get close to him anymore,” Langston muttered, fully aware that he had used the media to tarnish Alex’s image.There was no way to bring Alex to his side now. No way Alex would honor his invitation if the need ever arose.Resigned, he reached for the bottle of alcoholic wine on his table and poured himself a drink.With slow, deliberate steps, he walked toward the glass wall, staring out at the distant city lights. He took a sip, letting the burn of the liquor settle in his throat.“What do I do now?” he muttered under hi

Following Langston’s extradition from Velmoria, the news of it broke out in Velmoria and spread as fast as wildfire.“Impeached President Langston has been extradited by Interpol out of Velmoria. Justice must be served.”In the same manner, another news corporation gave the full details of the news.“Following the recent extradition of the impeached President Langston, this is the punishment he’d be getting from the International Court of Justice (ICJ) and the International Criminal Court (ICC):Life imprisonment!”***Alex smirked as he heard the news. He knew that no matter how Langston wanted to evade this, it was not possible. He had really dipped himself into some kind of deep shit with the Turnish government, and the Turnish government would not back off until they taught him a lesson.As the news had been told, Alex knew it was time to get set. Langston was now out of the way. If he wanted to really change the life of Southlake people and the people of Velmoria at large, the ti

Alex scrolled through the comment sections of major news channels that had published the breaking news of his membership in the AOIV and his candidacy for the presidency. His eyes skimmed over the flood of reactions, the overwhelming negativity jumping out at him.“Why would Alex join that losing party?!”“I am so disappointed. Now he is clearly going to lose!!”The longer he read, the clearer it became that the public was not on his side. His decision to align with AOIV had not been well received, and the criticism poured in like an unrelenting storm. Yet, despite it all, he did not mind. Not one bit.With a slow exhale, he closed his eyes, centering himself. He had prepared for this moment. He had anticipated resistance. Taking a deep breath, he muttered to himself, “I can do this.”As he opened his eyes, he turned to Anastasia, his darling wife, who stood in the kitchen, gracefully moving about as she prepared breakfast. The rich aroma of coffee and freshly toasted bread filled the