THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.

At that moment, Samuel's eyes drifted toward one of the large portraits hanging elegantly on the wall of the VIP room. The painting serene, sophisticated, mirrored the calm exterior he maintained, but inside, his thoughts churned with ruthless ambition.

A slow smile crept across his face, sharp and knowing.

'Soon,' he thought. Very soon, I'm going to get exactly what I want.

Then his fingers brushed lightly along the edge of the table as he let the thought settle, imagining how everything would look once he achieved it, the headlines, the whispers, the awe in people's eyes.

Cora… he knows Someone like her wasn't ordinary. She wasn't the type you just stumbled upon. She carried power and influence that extended far beyond the walls of the industry. Her connections, her reach, it was too broad to take lightly. Aligning himself with her wouldn't just elevate him; it would transform everything. His career, his public image, his access to circles he'd only brushed against before, all of it would shoot through the roof the moment people believed they were together.

Having someone like Cora by his side? It wasn't just appealing, it was intoxicating.

But as that satisfaction simmered, another image forced itself into his thoughts. William.

The name alone tightened Samuel's jaw, the smile on his face faltering into something darker.

That fool is still in the picture, Samuel thought bitterly. Still hovering around her, like he belongs there. And Robert too… thinking he can charm his way in.

His grip on the chair's armrest tightened slightly as he muttered under his breath, his tone cold and resolute.

"I'll deal with both of them… simultaneously."

The portrait reflected him faintly as he straightened his posture, a shadow of that calm smile returning to his face, not one of joy, but of quiet promise.

"No one," Samuel whispered to himself, "is going to take Cora away from me."

At that moment, Samuel's reflection in the portrait seemed almost like a silent witness to the vow he made under his breath. His voice was low, deliberate, yet brimming with conviction as he muttered to himself once more.

"I'm done waiting," Samuel whispered, the faintest grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Every plan I've made… I'm putting it into motion. One after the other."

He exhaled slowly, almost savoring the weight of his own words.

**

Night had fallen over the city, the glowing lights from the mall casting long shadows across the parking lot. Oliver stepped out of his car, his posture casual yet alert. He had gone in to pick up a few things nothing important, just errands but the moment he stepped inside earlier, he felt it.

The prickle at the back of his neck. The subtle weight of eyes trailing him.

He didn't need confirmation; his instincts were sharp. Years of learning to read people had made him sensitive to even the slightest shift in atmosphere.

The same group he noticed inside the mall, three men, bulky, dressed casually but with a stiffness in their movements had followed him out into the parking lot.

However Oliver didn't speed up, didn't panic. He walked toward his car with the same measured pace, unlocking the door and tossing the small bag of items into the passenger seat. But instead of climbing in, he paused, his hand resting on the roof of the car and turned halfway to face them.

His voice was calm, almost casual, but it carried a warning beneath it.

"Well," Oliver said evenly, his gaze sweeping over the three men, "I think we can drop the act now."

Hearing Oliver words the footsteps behind him stilled a little. The faint sound of one of the men's shoes scuffing against the asphalt echoed in the quiet lot.

"I know you're following me," Oliver continued, his tone sharper now, though still steady. "So why don't you tell me… what exactly do you want with me?"

At that moment, as soon as Oliver's words cut through the silence, the scuffing of shoes and faint chatter from the men behind him came to an abrupt halt. The four men who had been openly tailing him froze mid-step, while the other three who had been trying to blend in and act like they weren't following him stopped as well.

Eight of them.

They stood scattered across the parking lot, forming a loose semi-circle around Oliver. The flickering lights overhead cast jagged shadows on the concrete, stretching their silhouettes long and thin against the ground. The faint hum of distant traffic and car coming in, and some so people decide to stay away from the scene as they immediately drove off only made the tension heavier.

From the group, one man stepped forward, clearly their leader. He wasn't dressed differently from the rest, but there was something in his demeanor, the way the others instinctively gave him space, that marked him as the one in charge. He wore a faint smirk, his voice low and mocking as it echoed slightly in the wide, open lot.

"Well, well," the leader drawled, clapping his hands slowly. "Seems like you've got good eyes and ears, Oliver. Sharp ones, even. you caught us already no point pretending now, huh?"

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping Oliver up and down. "Yeah… we've been following you. No shame in admitting it anymore. But since you're so curious… let me make it simple."

At that moment the smirk widened into something darker.

"You offended someone. Someone who doesn't like to be offended. And we're here to fix that little mistake of yours… teach you some manners. Put you back on the right track."

Oliver didn't flinch. He stood there quietly, his expression calm, hands relaxed at his sides. A faint smile tugged at his lips, a stark contrast to the hostility radiating from the men in front of him.

"Offended someone, huh?" Oliver said softly, almost amused. He tilted his head slightly, his tone light but edged. "That's funny… I don't really recall offending anyone worth sending eight men after me."

His gaze swept over them, steady and unshaken.

"Tell me," Oliver continued, his voice dropping lower, "who exactly did I offend?"