I felt a strange mix of emotions as I approached the outskirts of Havenwood City. My physical wounds had mostly healed, but the mental scars from Conrad Thornton''s betrayal still lingered. The city skyline came into view through my car window—familiar yet somehow different. Perhaps I was the one who had changed.


    "Wee back to Havenwood, sir," my driver said, ncing at me through the rearview mirror.


    I nodded silently. My return wasn''t merely about nostalgia. Conrad''s influence had run deep here, and I needed to assess the damage, prepare medicines for my ongoing recovery, and most importantly, reassert my authority. No more ying the role of the humble, low-profile businessman. That strategy had almost gotten me killed.


    As we pulled up to mypound, I spotted Roman Volkov pacing anxiously near the entrance. His normallyposed face was twisted with worry, and he rushed to my car door before it fully stopped.


    "Liam! Thank god you''re back," Roman said, his voice strained.


    I stepped out, studying his disheveled appearance. "What happened?"


    Roman''s eyes darkened. "It''s ric. He tried to defend your interests while you were gone. Thornton''s men..." His voice broke slightly. "They broke both his legs. The doctors aren''t sure if he''ll walk properly again."


    A cold fury settled in my chest. ric had been loyal from the beginning, never wavering even when I was at my lowest.


    "Where is he now?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.


    "At his home, recovering. But that''s not all." Roman lowered his voice. "Half the business leaders in Havenwood sided with Thornton while you were down. Caldwell led them—the same man who swore blood loyalty to youst year."


    I wasn''t surprised. Opportunistic rats always abandoned what they perceived as a sinking ship.


    "Organize a wee-back banquet," I said after a moment of consideration. "Tomorrow evening. Invite everyone—especially those who betrayed us."


    Roman''s eyes widened slightly. "Everyone?"


    "Yes," I replied, a grim smile forming on my lips. "Let''s see who has the courage to face me."


    ---


    The next evening, myrgest reception hall filled with Havenwood''s most influential figures. I watched from a side room as they mingled nervously, whispering among themselves, casting frequent nces toward the main entrance. Many had brought extravagant gifts—rare wines, expensive watches, even property deeds—transparent attempts to buy their way back into my good graces.


    "They''re like sheep awaiting ughter," Roman muttered beside me.


    I spotted Marcus Valerius, one of the few who had remained loyal, standing apart from the others. Then my eyes locked on Caldwell,ughing too loudly, his fake confidence betrayed by the sweat on his brow.


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    "Is ric here?" I asked.


    Roman nodded. "In the back. He insisted oning despite his condition."


    "Good. Let''s not keep our guests waiting."


    I entered the hall to immediate silence. All eyes turned to me as I walked confidently to the front of the room. Some faces showed relief, others fear, and a few—those who had remained loyal—disyed genuine happiness at my return.


    Near the back, I spotted ric in a wheelchair, his legs heavily bandaged. Our eyes met briefly, and I gave him a slight nod. I would make this right.


    "Wee, everyone," I began, my voice carrying across the hushed room. "It''s good to be back in Havenwood."


    Several businessmen rushed forward with their offerings. I epted each gift with a polite nod, watching difort grow on the faces of those who had betrayed me. The stack of presents grew impressivelyrge.


    Caldwell was thest to approach, presenting an antique jade statue that must have cost millions.


    "Mr. Knight, we are overjoyed at your triumphant return," he said, his voice dripping with false sincerity. "This humble gift cannot express the depth of my loyalty."


    I epted it with a smile that didn''t reach my eyes. "Thank you, Caldwell. Your... generosity is noted."


    Once the formalities wereplete, servers brought out champagne. I raised my ss in a toast.


    "To Havenwood''s prosperity," I said, and the crowd echoed my words with varying degrees of enthusiasm.


    After allowing the tension to build through the first course of the meal, I finally stood again, tapping my ss for attention.


    "I understand the difficult position many of you found yourselves in during my absence," I began, my tone measured. "Business is business, after all. When Conrad Thornton appeared to have the upper hand, making pragmatic choices seemed reasonable."


    Relief visibly washed over several faces—they thought I was offering forgiveness.


    "But," I continued, my voice hardening, "there''s a difference between making necessarypromises and actively working to destroy someone who trusted you."


    The temperature in the room seemed to drop. I moved from behind the table, walking slowly among my guests.


    "Some of you didn''t merely switch allegiances. Some of you provided information about my businesses, my allies, my vulnerabilities." I paused beside Caldwell''s chair. "Some of you directly contributed to the injuries suffered by those loyal to me."


    I nced toward ric, whose face remained stoic despite his pain.


    "I''m offering one chance," I announced. "One opportunity to stand and admit what you did. Those who confess now will face consequences, but they''ll be proportional. Those who continue lying..." I let the implication hang in the air.


    The silence stretched ufortably. No one moved.


    I sighed. "Very well. Caldwell, let''s start with you."


    The man jumped slightly at being singled out. "Me? Liam, I''ve always been your most devoted supporter! I was simply maintaining rtionships to gather intelligence on Thornton''s operations for when you returned."


    His lie was so tant it was almost impressive. I moved to ric''s wheelchair and ced my hand gently on his shoulder.


    "Tell me, ric. Was it Caldwell who gave up the location of our warehouse on Maple Street? The one where Thornton''s men found you?"


    ric looked up at me, then at Caldwell. "Yes. He personally called their enforcer while I was still in the building."


    Caldwell shot to his feet. "That''s a lie! You can''t prove anything! Roman is the one who''s been feeding information to Thornton—I saw him meeting with their people at the Westridge Hotel!"


    Roman''s face contorted with rage. "You snake! I was meeting with security contractors to protect our assets!"


    I raised my hand, and the room fell silent again. Then, with deliberate slowness, I walked to Caldwell and struck him across the face with enough force to send him stumbling back into his chair. Blood trickled from his split lip.


    "I gave you a chance to confess," I said quietly. "Instead, you try to implicate one of the few who stayed loyal."


    "You''ve got nothing on me," Caldwell hissed, clutching his face. "It''s my word against his."


    I couldn''t help the smile that spread across my face as I pulled out my phone.


    "Caldwell, have you ever heard of something called surveince?" I asked with mock curiosity. "Because every meeting room in the Westridge Hotel has cameras. And I own the securitypany that maintains them."


    The color drained from his face as I turned the screen toward him, showing crystal-clear footage of him shaking hands with Conrad Thornton''s chief enforcer, sliding documents across a table, pointing to maps of my properties.


    "Now," I continued, addressing the suddenly pale faces around the room, "shall we see who else appears in these videos?"