They barely made it a few steps before bumping into a woman in a sharp, tailored suit. She was standing right in their path, her posture rigid, her face obscured by a sleek mask with gold detailing. Sinclair was quick to speak. "Hey, move it," he snapped, a hint of irritation in his voice.But Zen raised a hand, followed by a smirk playing at his lips as he recognized the poised figure before them. "You're quite the superstar these days, Keisha. I hardly see you anymore."Keisha removed her mask with a practiced grace, revealing a calm, composed expression that seemed almost serene amidst the chaos of the auction. Her lips curled into a slight smile. "Well, when my boss decides that blowing twenty billion on a chest is his idea of fun, I have to stay busy."Sinclair’s eyes widened in surprise. "Keisha!" he exclaimed, realizing who she was. He didn’t expect to see her there, let alone hear her speak so casually about the staggering sum Zen had just spent.Zen chuckled softly, unfazed.
The soft hum of the car engine was drowned out by the news blaring from the radio. “Breaking news from Fairy Island: the Albrecht family has recorded their highest surge in income in a single day—twenty billion dollars.” Zen leaned forward and switched off the radio with a flick of his wrist, his expression unreadable as he took of his mask. “No mention of the auction hall,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. He turned to Sinclair, who was seated next to him, a thoughtful look on his face. “Why wasn’t the auction mentioned? They made it sound like it came from nowhere.”Sinclair shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “These sorts of things, the general public doesn’t need that kind of information. The allure of Fairy Island is its mystery. People are drawn to it because it’s like a dream—a place where anything can happen. Keeping details under wraps keeps that dream alive for 90% of the citizens.”Zen nodded, his fingers drumming lightly against his knee. “I suppose you’r
“Keisha!” Zen’s voice sliced through the room with a commanding tone.Keisha turned swiftly, her usually calm expression attentive. “Yes, Chief?”Zen took a slow step towards her, his eyes fixed with a calculating stare. “I need you to respond to Malia. Tell her we’re willing to lend her the money she needs for ‘Operation: Sky City’ but on one condition.”Keisha raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “What’s the condition?” she asked, curiosity lacing her tone.Zen’s lips curled into a sly smile. “We’ll tell her that we’ll start reclaiming our loan from the profits generated by the city they’ll build. It sounds beneficial, right? Like a fair deal.”Sinclair, sitting nearby, leaned forward, his interest piqued. “That does sound fair. What’s the catch?”Zen’s smile widened, the devious glint in his eyes becoming more pronounced. “The loophole is this: the contract will specify ‘profits from when they build the city.’ But we won’t wait until it’s completed. We’ll start demanding
Zen watched through a narrow opening in the door as the other interns buzzed around the ward. They were all busy with their tasks, some carefully preparing tinctures, while others mixed herbs. There was an air of quiet concentration, interrupted only by the occasional clatter of a jar or the muttered instructions of a more experienced nurse. He observed them for a moment longer, then turned his attention back to Tasha as they finished up their own tasks.Tasha glanced at Zen, noticing his gaze drifting towards the other interns. "Want me to introduce you to the others?" she asked, gesturing toward the group.Zen shook his head, his expression indifferent. “No need. I don’t want to bother myself with remembering names.”One of the interns overheard and looked up, scoffing. “He sounds like a rich kid.”Another intern, without looking up from his work, added, “Yeah, that’s how they all are. Snobbish.”Zen’s lips curled into a faint smile, finding their assumptions amusing. He wasn’t offe
The light on Zen’s phone blinked, pulling him back to reality. He picked it up and answered with a quiet, “Yeah?” Keisha’s voice came through, slightly muffled. “Malia has eaten the bait.” Zen's lips curled into a sly smile. “Perfect,” he replied coolly. “Thanks, Keisha.” Without another word, he hung up, his smile lingering as he thought about the next steps in his plan. Almost immediately, his phone buzzed again. It was Willow. “Tom, your suit is ready,” she said cheerfully. “You forgot about the big four families’ party tonight, didn’t you?” “Shiiii!” Zen cursed, realizing he’d almost let it slip his mind. “Thanks for the reminder, Willow.” Sensing an opportunity, Willow's tone became teasing. “So... when should I be ready?” she asked, trying to sound casual. Zen chuckled. “Sorry, Willow, but I already have a date for the night.” He could almost hear her pout through the phone.
As Zen and Rosalia drove through the bustling streets toward the event hall, a tense silence filled the car. Rosalia’s eyes fixed ahead, seeming lost in thought. Zen, however, couldn't help but glance at her every now and then. He finally broke the silence, his voice was low. "Rosalia," he began, "what’s the real deal with this Big Four gala?"Rosalia turned her head slightly, a faint smile playing at her lips. "The gala?" She echoed. "Well, on the surface, it’s a charity event. But in reality, it's more about maintaining the balance of power. The Big Four families—they need the world to see them together, to remind everyone that their alliance is still strong, still in control."Zen nodded slowly, processing her words. "So, it's more like a show of strength than an actual charity event," he said.Rosalia chuckled. "Exactly. They have to appear united, to let the public know that their power isn't waning. It’s about reassurance—both to the people and to themselves."Zen frowned, glanc
As they weaved through the bustling crowd, Rosalia led Zen with a firm grip on his arm. The grand hall echoed with laughter and chatter, but the moment she approached a group of older men standing at the center, the noise seemed to diminish. Zen could feel the weight of every gaze in the room. "Come," Rosalia whispered, pulling him closer. "I want you to meet my grandfather, the patriarch of the Albrecht family."Zen’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t say a word. He followed her with a relaxed posture. As they reached the group, Zen found himself standing before the Big Four—powerful men whose influence stretched across the country.Rosalia's grandfather, a tall man with a deceptively cheerful face, stepped forward, his smile was wide. “Rosalia, my dear,” he greeted warmly, his voice carrying an air of authority. “Grandfather,” Rosalia said, with a respectful but light tone. “I’d like you to meet Tom.”Zen stood his ground, unbending, unbowed. No gestures of respect, no nods. J
Zen leaned over to Rosalia. “Hey, could you point me to the restroom?”Rosalia nodded and stood up. “I’ll take you there.”Zen gently placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “No need to stress yourself. Just point me in the right direction.”She gave him a small smile and pointed down a hallway. “It’s straight down there. The last door on the left.”“Thanks,” Zen replied, giving her a nod before making his way toward the restroom.___As he finished washing his hands and stepped out of the restroom, he almost bumped into two men waiting outside—Silas Wales and his friend, Dave. Zen’s eyes met Silas's, and he recognized the familiar sneer. Silas, whose ego Zen had bruised in a previous encounter, clearly hadn’t forgotten.“Long time no see,” Silas said with a forced smile, his tone dripping with condescension.Zen raised an eyebrow, with a calm expression. “It’s been a while, Silas,” he replied evenly, not showing any hint of concern.Dave smirked, leaning against the wall. “Still
The room hung in stunned silence, the air thick with disbelief. Yaya remained on his knees, his voice breaking as he groveled toward Zen. His head bowed so low it seemed he might sink into the marble floor. “Please, I’ll do anything!” Yaya’s words poured out like a flood, his hands trembling as they gripped the floor beneath him. “Just—just call them back. Restore my distribution channels. I can fix this! I’ll pay whatever you want!” Jun stared at his father, horror and confusion warring on his face. His voice came out sharp, cutting through the murmurs beginning to rise around the room. “Dad! What are you doing?” Jun took a step closer, grabbing Yaya by the arm. “Get up! Why are you kneeling to him?” Yaya barely turned, his eyes wild with desperation. “Let go of me, Jun! You don’t understand what’s happening here!” “I don’t understand?” Jun’s voice cracked as his confusion turned to anger. “You’re humiliating yourself! Him? He’s nothing! A useless son—” *SMACK!* Yaya’s ha
Zen's gaze remained steady as the man took another step closer, the condescension dripping from his tone. “Hey! Look!” Someone echoed. “That’s Mr. Yaya. Jun’s father. What’s he doing here?” Another voice echoed. “Do you even understand the weight of the people in this room, Tom?” Yaya’s voice was loud enough to draw more eyes to their corner. “Men who have built empires, shaped industries, and created legacies. And then there’s you—scraping by, pretending to fit into a world you clearly don’t belong to.” Rosalia, her frustration evident, stepped forward again. “Mr. Yaya, this is getting out of hand. You have no right—” “Stay out of it, Mrs. Rosalia,” Yaya snapped, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t understand the stakes here. This is about respect, and this boy has none.” Jun smirked as he pushed his uncle’s hands off himself, crossing his arms as he looked Zen up and down. “He doesn’t just lack respect, Father—he lacks everything. Power, influence, wealth. What does he have? A
Zen turned slowly, his eyes locking onto the man who had called out. His tone was sharp and mocking, cutting through the air like a whip. The man was tall, his stance brimming with arrogance as he squared his shoulders and stepped forward. Rosalia’s smile faltered, and she instinctively stood from her chair. “Jun, what are you doing?” Jun ignored her, his eyes focused entirely on Zen. “I’m asking what right he has to be sitting here with you.” Zen’s expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of annoyance in his gaze. He stayed calm, leaning slightly on the back of the chair he’d just pulled out for Rosalia. “And who are you to decide that?” Jun scoffed, his lips twisting into a bitter smile. “Who am I? That’s rich coming from someone like you. Do you even know where you are? Do you have any idea the kind of people in this room?” “I’m well aware,” Zen said evenly, his voice low but commanding. “Now, why don’t you explain why this concerns you?” Jun’s hand clenched i
Zen turned slightly, scanning the crowd. His eyes landed on Rosalia, who stood a few feet away, her soft smile aimed directly at him. She looked stunning, her emerald-green gown flowing gracefully as she approached him. "Tom," she said, her voice warm and teasing, "I thought I’d never get through that sea of people to find you." “Rosalia,” he said, his lips curving into a faint smile. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” She gave a small laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You could say that, though I don’t think ‘enjoying’ is the right word. Awkwardly surviving? Maybe.” Zen arched a brow, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Awkward, huh? What’s awkward about mingling with a bunch of over-dressed people waiting to make power plays?” Rosalia rolled her eyes, stepping closer. “You’re forgetting the forced smiles, empty compliments, and the undercurrent of judgment in every conversation. It’s exhausting.” Zen chuckled softly, tilting his head
On the day of the gala, the Albrecht Estate was alive with energy. Cars lined up in a procession at the gates, with chauffeurs stepping out to open doors for the city’s elite. Inside the sprawling ballroom, the hum of conversation was only interrupted by the occasional clink of glasses or bursts of laughter. Waiters moved swiftly through the crowd, trays balanced, while the soft melody of a live quartet filled the air.Zen’s car pulled into the driveway, sleek and understated compared to the flashy limousines that preceded it. As he stepped out, two young attendants rushed forward. “Mr. Diel,” one said, bowing slightly. “Welcome to the gala. Let us guide you inside.” Zen adjusted his cuffs and gave a curt nod. “Lead the way.” The attendants escorted him through the grand entrance, where the doors opened to reveal the glittering scene inside. The air smelled faintly of expensive perfume and polished wood, every detail carefully curated to impress. Zen’s gaze scanned the room
Zen’s eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the soft morning light spilling through the window. He turned his head and spotted Keisha, sitting across the room with her arms folded, watching him with a casual smile. Her presence caught him off guard.“Morning, sleepyhead,” she said with a smirk.Zen blinked, then let out a sigh, rolling onto his back. “I overslept,” he muttered, a bit annoyed with himself. “Not like me at all.”Keisha raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Even the mighty Zen has his off days, it seems.”Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes, then looked at her with suspicion. “How did you get in here? I lock my doors every night.”She held up a shiny key, dangling it between her fingers with a playful grin. “Spare key. Thought you’d remember I keep one.”Zen sighed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Of course you do.” He ran a hand through his hair, then fixed her with a curious stare. “Since you’re here, Keisha… explain your schedule to me.”Keisha blinked, clearly t
The night was cool and crisp as Zen stepped onto the deck of his yacht, taking in the gentle sway of the water beneath him. The lights from the city reflected off the waves, casting shimmering patterns on the boat. Just ahead, leaning against the railing with a glass in hand, Sinclair turned, a grin spreading across his face as he spotted Zen approaching. “Thought you’d never make it,” Sinclair teased, raising his glass in greeting. Zen smirked, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Didn’t want to keep you waiting too long.” He looked around, taking in the luxurious setup. “But tell me, when are you finally going to get your own yacht, Sinclair? This ‘borrowing’ act is getting old.” Sinclair laughed, an easy, carefree sound. “Who says I don’t have my own?” he replied, eyes twinkling with mischief. “In fact, I have more yachts than a three-year-old can count. I just happen to like *this* one the best.” Zen raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. “So, you’re telling
Zen’s gaze locked onto Silas, his expression calm but his eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. “So, this is how you like to handle things? Thought you’d finally stand up to someone, Silas?”Silas sneered, but there was a flicker of fear in his eyes. “You think you’re something cause you managed to pull a fast on me with pure luck—”Zen’s smirk widened. “I think we both know luck had nothing to do with it.” He took a step closer, hands relaxed at his sides, his presence radiating an authority that made everyone in the room hold their breath.“Stay back,” Silas snapped, his voice wavering as he tried to maintain his composure.Zen chuckled softly. “Oh, now you’re worried?”Silas glared, but his posture had shifted, more defensive than before. He glanced around, seeking support, but the others kept their eyes on the floor, unwilling to meet Zen’s gaze.“I don’t have time to play with you, Silas,” Zen murmured, his tone almost bored. “But maybe a quick reminder wouldn’t hurt.”He mov
“Tom!” Nia called out, drawing his attention, her voice sounding urgent. She didn’t even glance at Rosalia, who was standing beside him, her eyes fixed solely on Zen.Zen looked up, surprised to see her approaching. “Nia?” he asked, standing as she reached their table. “What happened?”Nia huffed, folding her arms across her chest as she tilted her head, clearly savoring the moment to vent. “You won’t believe what just happened,” she began, her tone laced with annoyance as she jerked her thumb back toward a waiter who was lingering nervously by the kitchen entrance, clearly aware he was in trouble. “That waiter back there? He decided to make a judgment call on my financial status. Apparently, my card didn’t go through, and he assumed I couldn’t pay.” She paused, letting out a short, sarcastic laugh. “He even suggested I… ‘pay’ another way. Like I’d be desperate enough to trade favors for dinner.”Zen’s face shifted from mild surprise to something much darker, his jaw tightening as he