The night air was gentle and warm. Kai stepped out of the black sedan, adjusting his cuffs as the headlights cut through the entrance of the towering banquet hall. Marble steps stretched before him, flanked by flaming braziers and guards in tailored suits. He didn’t pause to admire the architecture. He had already seen better. The Directors’ Banquet...his grandfather’s so-called “official introduction to the world.” Things were moving fast. Too fast. One minute he found out his true identity, then just as he was still grasping the reality of everything, he was thrust into a crazy event, dealing with lunatics in wedding gowns, the next he was expected to rub shoulders with the city’s most powerful figures. Fine. He would adapt. Two uniformed doormen spotted him and moved quickly, bowing low. “Welcome, Young Master Black...” “Stop.” Kai’s voice was quiet. But it held authority. Their backs straightened immediately. “No greetings. No names, no red carpets,” he

The guards lunged. Kai didn’t flinch. But just as rough hands reached for him... “Enough.” The command sliced through tension. Everyone turned. Morgan West was moving towards them. Impeccably dressed in black and silver, the tycoon’s presence alone forced the guards to halt. His sharp gaze swept over the chaos. “Leonard Vale,” Morgan said coolly, stepping forward. “You bring your dogs here to start a fight… on this night?” Leonard stiffened. “Morgan West… this is none of your damn business.” Morgan ignored the tone. “Do you even understand where you are?” His voice grew louder. “This isn’t your backyard. This isn’t your factory gate. This is a banquet held under the name of Atlas Blackwood.” The air tightened. Morgan stepped closer. “Men like us are lucky to even be here. You should be kissing the floor in gratitude. But instead, you're flexing your money muscles like some wild dog with rabies?” Leonard’s face darkened. “This is my matter. A thief tried to wa

The Laurent residence was soaked in silence, save for the occasional groan of pain, frustration and anger. Astrid collapsed on the couch, her face swollen, her hair tangled. Every breath hurt, every limb throbbed. Her dress, once white and flawless, was now stained and torn like a symbol of her disgrace. Tonight was supposed to be her day, how did things go so wrong?! Sage sat on the floor, shirt torn, one hand clutching his ribs. “Damn it,” he muttered. “My whole body feels like it got hit by a truck.” Vivian paced the room, her heels clicking like a ticking time bomb. Her face was pale, but rage still shimmered in her eyes. “This family...completely humiliated. On the biggest day of our lives.” She spun toward Sage. “All because of that bastard...Kai.” Sage winced. “Mom... I think we really messed up.” He looked up, genuine fear in his bruised eyes. “I heard it... with my own ears and I'm sure you heard it too. Elara...Elara Vasquez...she called him ‘Master.’ Not ‘Sir.’

Abigail Alfred sat stiffly on the cream leather couch, arms folded, legs crossed, chin slightly lifted in that signature aristocratic tilt she always wore when her patience was hanging by a thread. Her aunt’s voice buzzed beside her like a persistent mosquito and she badly wanted to swat her away. “This one’s not like the others, Abigail. He’s from the Gyrix Group’s subsidiary. A department manager! Do you know how hard it is to find someone from that circle willing to consider marriage these days?” Abigail didn’t even glance her way. She was too busy controlling the urge to roll her eyes into another dimension. A manager? From a subsidiary? Oh please. If he was so fantastic, why hadn't Auntie dearest thrown her own precious daughter at him? Oh right. Because when it came to fortune and social ladders, Aunt Matilda didn’t share the good crumbs. She kept them for her little princess and shoved the leftovers at Abigail. She glanced around the enormous sitting room, notin

The living room had never been so quiet. The only sound was the occasional buzz of disbelief flickering through the minds of Abigail’s family as they stared at her phone screen. The number sat there, bold, undeniable. 500 million yuan. Abigail’s hand trembled slightly. “It’s real,” she whispered again, mostly to herself. “It’s... real.” Her mother gasped and dropped to her knees beside her daughter, tears welling in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said to Kai, her voice cracking. “Thank you, young man. I don’t know what miracle brought you here, but... thank you.” Her father stood, walked to Kai, and held his hand tightly with both of his own. “You’ve saved this family. I don’t know what we did to deserve this grace... but we will never forget it.” Kai gave a half-smile, his expression calm, unbothered, as if dropping half a million was a daily routine. He glanced toward Aunt Matilda, who stood frozen like someone had just slapped her soul out of her body. Her teeth clench