When I sla.pped my husband's mistress, he broke my leg. Then he locked me in the basement and told me to reflect.

At 10:00 AM, the glass-walled boardroom of Hayes Tech Logistics on Wall Street was buzzing with nervous energy.

Ethan Hayes stood in front of the marble conference table, wearing a three-piece designer suit. His right hand was wrapped in a bandage where he had struck Sophia the night before, but his face was flushed with arrogant excitement. Beside him stood Khloe Vance, wearing a sleek red dress, clutching a glass of iced coffee.

"I’m telling you, Khloe, today changes everything," Ethan whispered, adjusting his tie in the glass reflection. "Once the European consortium signs the twenty-million-dollar agreement, my valuation hits a hundred million. Your dad’s introduction was the key."

Khloe smiled smugly, resting her hand on his arm. "I told you I was better for you than Sophia. She was just a glorified dressmaker. I have real power."

Ethan’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second as a memory flashed through his mind—Sophia lying at the bottom of the basement stairs, her leg twisted at an unnatural angle, the metallic groan of the steel lock.

He shoved the thought away. She deserved it, he reasoned with himself. She hit Khloe. She embarrassed me. She’ll stay in the basement until I return tonight, and then I’ll make her sign a non-disclosure agreement or I’ll throw her out with nothing.

The heavy double doors of the boardroom swung open.

Four men in immaculate, tailored dark suits walked into the room. At the front was Marco, carrying a sleek black briefcase. His presence was so intense, his aura so lethal, that the chatter among Ethan’s junior executives instantly died down.

"Mr. Hayes," Marco said, his voice flat and professional. "I am Marco Rossi, chief managing director of Apex Global Investments. We are here to finalize the funding for Hayes Tech Logistics."

Ethan rushed forward, holding out his hand with a bright, salesman smile. "Mr. Rossi! It’s an honor. Richard Vance spoke very highly of your firm's European reach."

Marco looked down at Ethan’s extended hand, ignored it entirely, and walked straight to the head of the conference table, pulling out the main leather chair and sitting down.

Ethan’s smile stiffened, but he quickly cleared his throat and sat opposite Marco. "Right. Down to business. As per our preliminary terms, Apex Global will inject twenty million dollars in exchange for a twenty-five percent equity stake in my company."

Marco opened his briefcase and pulled out a single, thick document bound in black leather. He slid it across the glass table.

"Read Clause 14 carefully, Mr. Hayes," Marco said calmly.

Ethan frowned, flipping through the pages until he reached the specified section. His eyes scanned the small print, and gradually, the blood drained from his face.

"What... what is this?" Ethan stammered, his fingers trembling. "This clause states that upon signing, all intellectual property, patent rights, real estate holdings, and personal liability guarantees of Hayes Tech Logistics are transferred immediately to Apex Global as collateral against existing debt?"

"That is correct," Marco replied smoothly.

"Debt?!" Ethan yelled, slamming his hands onto the table. "I don't have debt to Apex Global! My company is clean!"

Marco leaned back, crossing his legs. He pulled out a sleek tablet and tapped the screen, projecting a document onto the massive wall monitor in the boardroom.

"Three years ago, Mr. Hayes, your startup was on the verge of bankruptcy," Marco explained coldly. "You received an anonymous angel investment of three million dollars from a holding company called Veritas Holdings. Do you recall?"

Ethan blinked. "Yes! That was an angel grant! Sophia helped me apply for it!"

"It was not a grant, Mr. Hayes," Marco smiled thinly. "It was a high-interest convertible loan issued by Veritas Holdings—which is a subsidiary of Apex Global. Over three years, with compound interest and legal management fees, the outstanding balance is nineteen million eight hundred thousand dollars."

Ethan stood up, his chair scraping violently against the floor. "You’re lying! This is extortion! I’m calling Richard Vance right now!"

Khloe quickly pulled out her phone and dialed her father's private line. She put it on speaker.

"Dad!" Khloe squealed into the phone. "Dad, these crazy investors are trying to pull a scam on Ethan’s company! You need to call the governor right now and—"

"Khloe... shut up..." Richard Vance’s voice came through the speaker, raspy, broken, and sounding twenty years older.

"Dad?" Khloe froze.

"It’s over, Khloe," Richard wheezed, the sound of frantic paper rustling in the background. "The Swiss bank frozen every account. Federal agents just entered my office with a seizure warrant for tax evasion and money laundering. My firm is bankrupt. I’m being arrested in ten minutes."

"What?!" Khloe screamed, dropping her phone onto the table.

Marco stood up from his chair, buttoning his jacket. He looked down at Ethan, whose face was now as pale as a corpse.

"You have two choices, Mr. Hayes," Marco said softly. "Sign the transfer agreement now and surrender your company peacefully, or default on the nineteen-million-dollar debt. If you default, my enforcement team will seize your home, your cars, and your clothes by 2:00 PM today."

Ethan gasped for air, grabbing the edges of the table to keep his knees from buckling. "Who... who are you people? Who sent you?!"