The room quieted immediately. "Starting today, I’ll be strictly enforcing company policy regarding the selling of shares."

A few people exchanged confused looks. Seb continued without pause.

"If any shareholder wishes to sell their shares, those shares can only be sold back to me." Silence.

Then confusion. Then immediate outrage. "Excuse me?" one board member snapped.

Seb ignored the interruption. "Any sale made to another buyer without my approval," he continued coldly, "will be considered invalid."

The room exploded instantly. "You can’t do that!"

"What kind of arrangement is this?"

"That’s insane!" Seb remained standing calmly while voices rose around him.

"There has been intentional targeting against this company," he said sharply, finally cutting through the noise. "And in order to protect all our interests, I need everyone’s cooperation until this matter is resolved."

"What if you buy the shares at a cheaper rate?" another board member argued angrily. "You’re basically forcing us!"

"This is temporary," Seb answered. But nobody looked convinced anymore. One older board member leaned forward with visible frustration.

"How did your problems suddenly become our problems?" That question shifted the atmosphere instantly.

Because everyone in the room had been thinking it. Seb’s eyes slowly moved toward the man. Cold. Sharp. Dangerously unreadable. For one brief second, the room became completely silent.

Then Seb straightened his jacket slowly. "The matter has already been settled," he said flatly.

Which really meant. The decision was final, whether they liked it or not. "This meeting is adjourned."

Without waiting for another response, Seb turned and walked out of the room. Behind him, the board immediately erupted into angry discussions the second the doors closed.

Some furious. Some afraid. Some are already regretting ever tying themselves to Sebastian Creed.

Meanwhile, Seb kept walking down the hallway without slowing. Damien hurried after him quickly.

"Seb." Seb ignored him. "Seb, they’re panicking," Damien continued in frustration. "This isn’t going to calm investors down."

Seb suddenly stopped walking. Employees nearby immediately lowered their heads and moved out of the way instinctively.

Slowly, Seb turned toward Damien. "You think I don’t know that?" he asked quietly. Damien fell silent. Because beneath the anger and exhaustion. Sebastian Creed looked cornered.

And dangerous men became even more dangerous when cornered. The hallway outside the conference room remained tense long after the meeting ended.

Employees pretended to work while secretly watching Sebastian from a distance. Nobody had ever seen the company shaken this badly before.

And nobody had ever seen Seb look this exhausted.

He stood near the glass windows overlooking the city, one hand in his pocket, while the other loosened his tie completely this time. Damien stayed beside him quietly, waiting.

Thinking. Calculating damage. Finally, Seb spoke again. "I need you to take care of things here." Damien frowned slightly but nodded.

"Alright."

"And send my mother money from the company funds." That immediately made Damien look at him sharply.

"Seb..."

"It’s temporary," Seb interrupted quickly. "I’ll replace it once I figure out what’s going on." Damien rubbed his forehead tiredly. Using company funds privately was already risky enough.

Doing it now while investors were panicking? Terrible timing. "Seb," Damien said more seriously this time. But Seb cut him off again.

"Fine," he muttered impatiently. "Then start selling the overseas properties." Damien blinked.

"The villas," Seb continued thinking aloud now. "The apartments. Everything." His voice remained strangely calm despite what he was saying.

"I’m sure that alone will give us enough liquidity to cover operations for now." He started pacing slowly again. "The ongoing projects can still be funded."

Damien stared at him quietly. Because these weren’t random assets. Those properties were worth fortunes. Some of them had been hidden investments Seb built years ago. Safety nets.

Backup plans. And now he was preparing to liquidate them one by one. Seb suddenly looked up again, confidence slowly returning to his expression.

"And once I figure this out," he said firmly, "I’ll get the money back." There it was.

That familiar Sebastian Creed arrogance. The belief that no matter how badly he fell. He could always rise again.

"I’ve done it before," Seb said quietly. "I can do it again." Damien watched him carefully. And honestly?

Part of him believed it, too. Because Seb had survived impossible situations before. Destroyed competitors. Escaped scandals.

Rebuilt empires from almost nothing. That was what made Sebastian dangerous. He refused to stay down. But another part of Damien remained uneasy.

Because this time felt different. This enemy wasn’t just attacking Seb’s business. They were dismantling him piece by piece. His money. His systems. His control.

And somehow. They always seemed one step ahead.

—

The atmosphere inside the investigation room had become heavier by the hour. Files covered the long table. Photographs. Evidence bags. Printed reports.

Cold coffee sat forgotten beside exhausted officers who had been working through the night, trying to piece together the truth behind Madam Pedro’s death.

The lead investigator stood near the evidence board, reading through the latest report again, while another officer entered the room holding fresh lab results.

"The DNA test came back positive." The room immediately quieted. The investigator turned sharply.

"You’re sure?" The officer nodded and handed him the file.

"The two used cups recovered from Madam Pedro’s study, one contained traces of Amira’s DNA." The investigator frowned deeply.

Those cups had been found hidden carefully beneath a side cabinet in the study, the night Madam Pedro collapsed.

If Julian had not insisted that the room be searched again personally, they might never have found them. Now suddenly the evidence looked far more serious.

"It’s a match," the officer confirmed again. "She definitely used one of the cups." The investigator stared down at the report thoughtfully.

"That means she’s hiding something." Another officer sighed tiredly. "We still haven’t recovered the missing portion of the security footage."

That missing footage continued to bother everyone involved in the case. Too convenient. Too clean. Like someone intentionally removed part of the truth.

The lead investigator folded his arms slowly. "But why would she kill her own mother?" one officer asked quietly.

Nobody answered immediately. Then another possibility surfaced.

"Or..." the investigator murmured thoughtfully, "she’s protecting someone." The room went silent again.