The drive home blurred into a haze of streetlights and buildings as his thoughts churned. By the time he pulled into the driveway, his jaw was clenched, and his fingers ached from gripping the wheel too tightly.He needed to keep it together for his mother. He couldn’t let her see how rattled he was.Inside the house, the familiar smell of dinner welcomed him, along with the comforting sight of his mother and Cass already seated at the dining table. His mother looked healthier than ever, her cheeks flushed with color, a far cry from the pale and fragile woman she had been months ago. Simon allowed himself a small moment of relief. At least she was okay.Cass gave him a warm smile as he sat down, her eyes sparkling with their usual kindness. She had always been a rock in their lives, especially during his mother’s illness, and Simon was grateful for her presence. Dinner passed quietly, with only a soft conversation between his mother and Cass filling the room. Simon participated, but h

As Simon drifted into a deep, unbothered sleep, Beckley was awake, stirring up storms behind the scenes. Midnight was Beckley’s hour, and he used it well, pulling strings to dismantle Jerry’s life piece by piece. By morning, the effects of his work were visible, sending Jerry’s life into a tailspin.News broke early. A video of Jerry had surfaced online, showing him arrogantly mocking and shoving a group of frail beggars near Socok Club's entrance. The footage, brutal in its clarity, spread like wildfire. The once-polished image of Jerry crumbled as thousands of people watched and shared the clip, each comment and repost tarnishing his reputation further. Jerry's name quickly became the subject of ridicule, hashtags trending with calls for accountability. For a man who thrived on image and status, the public disgrace was devastating.Desperate, Jerry stumbled toward the club later that morning, hoping to reclaim some of his old authority. He walked in, his usual cocky demeanor shaken

2 months later The scent of fresh paint and polished tiles lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of floral arrangements carefully placed in the hospital’s grand lobby. The walls gleamed a pristine white, reflecting the soft golden glow of overhead chandeliers. It was a hospital, yes, but today, it felt more like a five-star hotel. Outside, the hospital’s name, "Evercare Medical Center", shone in bold letters, backlit against the afternoon sun. Simon stood near the entrance, his tailored charcoal suit and crisp white shirt exuding effortless authority. His sharp eyes scanned the crowd with a mix of pride and detachment. He was used to success, but this felt different. This wasn’t just a business—it was a legacy in the making. Beside him stood Cass, nervously adjusting her simple but elegant dress. Her brown curls framed her face as she clutched her handbag tightly. Helen, Simon’s foster mother, was a regal woman in her sixties, her soft smile betraying the pride in her

Simon reclined in his study, the dim light casting long shadows across the room. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest of his chair, his mind wandering to a time he had long tried to bury. It was years ago, but the memories were as vivid as if they’d happened yesterday. Ash. Her sharp laughter, the intoxicating way she could light up a room, and the equally venomous way she could destroy everything in her path. Their marriage had been a whirlwind. To the outside world, it was a picture of how damned lucky a poor man like Simon was for having a gorgeous wife like Ash: Ash, the dazzling socialite, and Simon, the quiet and poor guy. Behind closed doors, it was a different story. He remembered that night that had almost ruined his life. Isaac, Ash’s younger brother, had been involved in a drunken hit-and-run that killed an innocent woman, Ms. Xerox. The scandal had the potential to ruin not only Isaac but the entire Katherine family. “Simon,” Ash had pleaded, her voice tr

Inside the Katherine mansion, Ash moved through the corridors like a ghost, her footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors. The air felt heavy, suffocating, as if the walls themselves mourned the family's impending downfall.In the grand parlor, her grandmother, Mrs Katherine, sat in quiet contemplation. Her slender fingers traced the rim of a porcelain teacup, the steam from the untouched brew curling into the air like fleeting whispers. The matriarch’s eyes, once bright and commanding, now carried a distant, glassy sheen—a mix of defiance and weary resignation.Ash approached hesitantly, her voice a whisper, barely audible above the faint rustle of the curtains. “Grandma, there’s nothing we can do for now.” Her words trembled as she spoke. “Simon isn’t accepting our pleas. He’s made it clear—he won’t stop until we’re completely ruined. We... we have no choice but to make do with what we have left.”The older woman didn’t flinch, her gaze fixed on the dying embers in the f