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

At that moment, hearing what Cora just said, Malisa leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a brief second. The tone in Cora's voice was sharp, almost vibrating with suppressed anger. It wasn't just frustration anymore it was determination. Malisa had known Cora for years and had seen this side of her only a handful of times. Whenever Cora's mind was made up like this, no amount of reasoning or persuasion could sway her.

Then Malisa sighed quietly and finally said, her tone careful but steady, "Alright then… no problem. If this is what you want, I won't fight you on it. I'll make the arrangements."

On the other end, Cora stood by her window, her reflection blending into the city lights outside. Now her arms were crossed tightly against her chest, jaw clenched, but her voice was calm, too calm. "Good. That's exactly what I want, Malisa. No silence. No waiting for this to 'die down.' It ends tomorrow."

Malisa hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Where do you want it held?"

"MK Entertainment headquarters," Cora said without skipping a beat. "They have the biggest hall, the right tech, and enough space for every major outlet. I want cameras everywhere. Live broadcast."

Malisa nodded instinctively, though Cora couldn't see her.

"Alright. I'll handle it. We'll get the media briefed, and by tomorrow morning, everything will be set."

Cora's eyes narrowed, still fixed on her own reflection in the glass. "Good," she said quietly, almost to herself. "Tomorrow, they'll hear it from me directly."

The line went silent for a moment, heavy with unspoken thoughts. However Malisa could sense the storm brewing in Cora's mind, a storm that, once unleashed, might not be easy to control. But she also knew better than to stand in her way now.

"Fine," Malisa said softly, finally breaking the silence. "I'll get it ready."

"No problem," Cora replied. "That's what I want."

And with that, the call ended

As the call ended Cora was so angry to the point that her hands trembled as she paced the length of her living room. Her chest rose and fell with every sharp breath, and she nearly cursed out loud, something she rarely ever did. Everything in her gut told her it was Samuel, the parking lot incident, the forced gesture of him trying to wear his jacket over her shoulders, the way he had smirked like it was all some game he was winning. And then the restaurant scene, him trying to put her in a situation where people could misunderstand. It wasn't coincidence; it was a calculated move. Every little move, every staged moment, all of it pointed straight at him.

Her jaw clenched as she muttered under her breath, "I know it's you, Samuel… you think I'll let this go? No. I'll handle you myself."

She didn't care if her reaction burned bridges or stirred a bigger storm in the media. Even if the consequences were severe, she didn't care, she was going to do what was on her mind.

**

It was the next day, sunlight spilling over the city, though for Oliver, the brightness outside was a stark contrast to where he stood now.

Inside an isolated building, far from curious eyes, Oliver stood with Lisa in a room that felt more like a chamber built for intimidation than anything else. The air was heavy, cold, and faintly metallic, carrying a lingering smell that could only belong to a place where people had been broken before. The walls were bare concrete, scratched and dented, and a single swinging bulb overhead cast long, sharp shadows across the space.

Lisa's uncle leaned against a rusted steel table pushed into the corner, arms folded, silent but watchful. His presence alone filled the room with unease, a man who didn't need to speak to command fear.

Across from them sat another man, tied to a chair in the center of the room. His entire body was trembling violently, his legs jerking uncontrollably against the bindings. Sweat drenched his face, his wide eyes darting between Oliver, Lisa, and her uncle like a trapped animal searching for an exit that didn't exist. His lips quivered as though he wanted to speak, but fear sealed his throat shut.

Oliver stood a few feet away, calm but radiating a quiet intensity that made the man's fear grow worse. He wasn't shouting, he wasn't pacing he simply stood there, hands in his pockets, watching. The silence stretched for what felt like forever, and in that silence, the man's panic only deepened.

Then Lisa glanced toward Oliver, waiting for him to speak first, but Oliver remained still. It was almost as if he wanted the man to feel every second of his own terror before anything was said.

At that moment the man's knees rattled against the chair legs. He swallowed hard, his voice breaking in a whimper as his eyes finally locked onto Oliver's.

He didn't even need to say a word his shaking alone told them he already knew why he was there.

Then, Oliver slowly turned to face Lisa's uncle, his posture calm yet sharp enough to command the entire room. His hands were tucked casually in his pockets.

"Well," Oliver began, his voice deep and even, carrying no need to shout to be heard. "I wasn't supposed to be here for this. You know it. I could have made one phone call and had what I wanted delivered. No complications. No wasted time." Then he paused, letting the words settle in the stale air between them. "But I came here in person. Do you know why?"

Lisa's uncle didn't answer. His sharp, weathered eyes scanned Oliver's face with fear written all over his. Then Oliver continued.

"Because I told myself I'd change. That I wouldn't keep doing things the way I used to. Out of respect for myself and for Lisa, and for you I came here personally to negotiate. Face-to-face. I'm hoping… praying, even… that I don't regret that decision. So, I'm trusting you to give me a favorable deal."

Lisa uncle didn't move, didn't blink. But deep inside, something shifted.

Seeing Oliver in person was different from hearing the stories. The rumors never truly did him justice. And now, standing across from him, there was no denying it this was the boy the entire underground whispered about in fear. The one they nicknamed The Little Demon.