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

It was a name carved into the darker corners of the mafia world, feared for his precision, his silence, and his lack of hesitation. A name Father's used to warn their sons never to cross the wrong people. A name bosses muttered when business went wrong, when entire gang vanished overnight without a trace.

At that moment, Lisa's uncle's legs wouldn't stop trembling. It didn't matter how much he tried to hide it, the shake was there, constant, uncontrollable. His palms were sweating too, leaving damp marks on the table where his hands rested. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, unable to believe what his eyes were seeing.

He knew Lisa worked with the Zakaria family everyone in the underground did. Her name alone carried whispers because of that connection. But this… this was different. From the little he knew, he had heard rumors that Lisa wasn't just connected to the Zakarias. She was connected to someone far higher, someone whose name alone terrified even the boldest of criminals.

The young man standing before him wasn't just some bodyguard or errand boy. He was the heir of the Zakaria family. The Little Demon.

The boy adopted by the lord of the Zakaria family the most feared, most powerful, and richest mafia family in the world. A family so influential that their reach extended beyond borders, controlling not just streets but entire economies, moving in silence where others roared loudly. They were untouchable.

The boy was raised by the head of the family, molded into something far sharper than steel. They trained him to be merciless yet calculated, to see weakness in people before they even realized it themselves. From a young age, he didn't just learn how to survive; he learned how to dominate. He became ruthless, a prodigy of power and control, feared by those who only heard stories of what he could do.

And later, when the time was right, they made him heir. The next leader of the Zakaria empire. The one destined to inherit everything their power, their fortune, their enemies also.

Lisa's uncle couldn't believe it. Standing here, in this small room that smelled faintly of old leather and dust, was him. The legend whispered about in hushed tones across the underground. The Little Demon, alive, real, and standing barely a few feet away from him.

His heartbeat thudded in his ears. He had met killers before, smugglers, even warlords, but this was different. This wasn't fear of death. This was fear of standing in the presence of someone who had become death itself, Still he couldn't believe that he was standing in front of the Little Demon, as he was called then.

Without wasting any more time, Lisa's uncle then clear his throat, steadying his shaking voice as he finally addressed everyone in the room his face fixed on the man in the chair.

"Yes," he began, his tone calm yet carrying weight, "I have heard what you just said." His eyes briefly shifted to Oliver, studying him, as if still trying to process that the infamous young man the one people whispered about as the little demon was standing right here in front of him.

"And before you even come here," he continued, glancing toward Lisa for a moment, "Lisa had already given me a head-up. She already told me what this meeting was all about." He exhaled slowly, the tension in the air thick enough that even Lisa noticed.

"And I have agreed to it," Lisa's uncle said firmly, his voice carrying a finality that left no room for negotiation. "One hundred percent agreed to it. There is no hesitation on my part."

Then, without pausing, he raised his hand and pointed toward the man seated in the corner of the room. The man had been silent the whole time, his body trembling, his head lowered as though the weight of what was about to happen was crushing him. The light above flickered slightly, casting sharp shadows across his pale face, making the fear in his eyes even more obvious.

"Well," Lisa's uncle said, his finger still directed at the man, "I brought him here because he also needs to sign his own part of it. That is the reason I brought him here. Nothing more."

His words hung in the air for a moment, their meaning heavy and clear. Then he added, " I'm willing to give you the twenty percent share that is with him, the same share that was used as collateral. I'm willing to give it to you."

A stunned silence followed. Even though everyone expected this, hearing it spoken aloud made it real.

At that moment, without wasting any more time, Lisa's uncle reached into the leather case beside him. The faint creak of the straps filled the quiet room. Slowly, he pulled out a thick folder and placed it on the table between them.

Then Lisa's uncle leaned forward, his trembling hand sliding the thick envelope of documents across the rough wooden table. The faint scratching sound it made seemed louder than the silence that filled the room. His voice, though soft, carried a weight of finality as he said,

"This… is the document containing the full transfer of the shares. Everything is already prepared. All you need to do is sign. That's it. And him—" He jabbed a finger toward the man sitting rigid in the corner, shaking so violently his chair squeaked against the floor. "—he will also sign. That is all that remains."

The room was cold, but Oliver's presence alone seemed to make the air heavier. He sat there, calm and poised, one leg crossed over the other, his sharp gaze locked on the document but not touching it yet. At that moment he let the silence stretch, the weight of anticipation pressing down on everyone in the room. Finally, his voice broke through, low, controlled, and cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Well," Oliver began, leaning back slightly, "I appreciate the kind gesture you're offering here. But I need clarity, how much is this going to cost me?"

Then he lifted his eyes, sharp and unblinking, toward Lisa's uncle. "Name your price. I want this process handled clean. Lisa will process the transfer immediately."