The Heavenly Demon of Terror

[Samuel's POV – Café Table of War]

The clink of cutlery and soft jazz playing overhead couldn't muffle the tension that settled between us like fog on a battlefield. Owen leaned forward, elbows on the table, jaw set like a blade.

"Willam's fortress isn't just his company," he began, tone low and deliberate. "It's a web of off-shore accounts, shell corporations, legal protection, and bought influence. He didn't just ruin Owen's life—he made sure the world never knew what he did."

I nodded, fingers tapping lightly on my coffee cup. "Classic cancer. Grows quietly, spreads deep, hard to cut out without taking a limb with it."

Owen pulled out a small holopad from his coat, tapping the screen to display a map. Multiple glowing red pins spread across Asia, Europe, and the Caymans.

Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on NovᴇlFire(.)nᴇt

"Here," he said, pointing to a node in Luxembourg. "One of his silent trust funds. Connected to a shell he used to funnel bribe money to disbarred judges and a journalist he paid off to destroy my mother's reputation."

"Did you verify it?"

"Tracked it through his CFO's mistress," Owen replied with a small smirk. "People talk when they think you're just a beast."

Henry finally spoke, sipping his tea. "So we bleed the network, freeze his accounts, ruin his reputation from the inside."

"And when he's weak," I added, "we drop the hammer. Full exposure. Public disgrace. Turn every boardroom ally into a liability."

Owen's eyes glinted. "And I'll be the one to break him—financially, politically, and finally, personally."