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

His breath caught in his chest. His hope rose for a second. Maybe it's her. Maybe it's Cora. I need to talk to her. I'll beg. I'll do whatever she wants. Just let me out.

He waited.

The footsteps drew closer, louder with every beat of his heart. The five men didn't flinch. They remained at attention, unmoving. Then, the door slowly creaked open, and the figure of a man stepped into view.

James's face fell, It wasn't Cora.

It was a man tall, well-dressed, clean-cut, with sharp cheekbones and piercing eyes. He looked about James's age, but his presence filled the entire room like a fog. There was a coldness about him, not loud or aggressive, but calculated and dangerous. The kind of man who didn't shout to get your attention he just looked at you, and you knew.

James's heart pounded as the man walked closer.

Then, the moment that sealed it each of the five strong men who had looked like immovable statues just moments ago bowed deeply toward the man.

"Welcome, boss," one of them said.

At that moment, when the five men bowed their heads in respect to the man who had just walked in, James's eyes immediately caught something odd something that made his spine tingle with dread. As the men dipped their heads, their sleeves slid slightly and their collars shifted just enough for James to notice the same ominous mark repeating itself: a dark, coiling dragon tattoo drawn thick and sinister, like something from a nightmare ran from their necks down to their arms. It wasn't just a simple design. The scale-like shading, the glowing red eyes, the claws every detail looked violent, alive. James couldn't help but stare.

His heart skipped. "Where have I seen this before?" he thought, panic beginning to rise again. The image was oddly familiar, like a whispered warning from a story he'd long forgotten. Somewhere maybe from a newspaper headline? A secret whispered in fear? A video clip gone viral before being taken down? He couldn't tell. But something inside him screamed danger, and the hairs on his arms stood upright.

However Before James could gather himself, the man they called "Boss" stopped just a few feet in front of him.

This man looked calm, composed, and chillingly confident. His handsome face was stone cold. His tailored black suit didn't have a single wrinkle. His eyes were unreadable, and the energy he carried with him wasn't just powerful it was suffocating.

James gulped, forcing himself to breathe. Even though fear rattled every part of his body, he tried to sit up straighter and look composed. He couldn't afford to look weak not now.

With a trembling voice, he stammered, "I–I don't know what anyone told you, but I swear… I haven't done anything. I didn't hurt anyone. I don't even know why I'm here. Please, whatever this is, it's a mistake. I know you're their boss… but they got it wrong. Somebody lied to you. Please. I swear I'm innocent."

He tried to sound firm, but every word betrayed his fear. His voice cracked. His lips quivered. The metallic taste of blood from biting his inner cheek mixed with the salty sweat running down his face.

But just as he was about to say more.

"SMACK!!"

A heavy slap came out of nowhere so hard it echoed through the warehouse like thunder. James didn't even see the hand move. All he knew was the white-hot pain exploding across his face as his body and the chair crashed to the ground.

His ears rang. His head hit the floor with a dull thud. Stars flashed before his eyes. The world spun.

Before he could fully register what happened, two of the tattooed men stepped forward and, without saying a word, lifted both him and the chair upright again like he weighed nothing.

Blood trickled from the corner of James's mouth. His vision was blurry, but something hard and loose was in his mouth. He coughed and two bloody teeth dropped out. He stared at them in horror.

Immediately his chest rose and fell in panicked gasps. His bottom lip trembled.

"They're not here to talk," he finally realized. "They're not here to listen… They're here to make me disappear."

Tears began falling hot, fast, unstoppable.

"I'm sorry!" he choked out. "Please I'm sorry for whatever I did. I swear I didn't mean to! Please forgive me. Please don't kill me. I'll do anything. I'll fix it. Please…"

His voice cracked into sobs.

He was no longer trying to be strong. No longer pretending to be brave.

At that moment, Oliver's eyes were cold, unreadable, yet burning with silent authority. He took one slow step forward, then said in a firm, menacing tone, "This will be the last time I ever hear your voice, James. If you say one more word without my permission, I'll cut out your tongue myself."

James froze instantly. His heart dropped like a stone. The sharp pain from his bleeding mouth suddenly felt like nothing compared to the fear crawling all over his body. His hands trembled as his gaze darted around the room that was when he finally noticed Ed standing silently in the corner. He had been there the whole time. Still. Watching. Like a ghost waiting for the right time to strike.

James didn't say anything. He couldn't. His lips quivered, but he quickly shut them tight and nodded like an obedient child caught stealing. That was when Oliver stepped even closer and leaned just slightly, his voice calm but laced with threat. "There's no need for me to introduce myself, James. No need at all. You already know who I am. And more importantly… you owe me money."

Immediately James blinked hard. His entire body tensed.

Then Oliver straightened his back and continued, "I'm not here to talk about what anyone else said.I'm here for one reason. The money. You took it. Your time is up."

The words sank into James like icy needles.

And then that was when the full realization crashed on him like a wave. This… this wasn't Cora's doing. No. This was his own fault. This was the consequence of his own hands. His own debts. And now, staring at the cold, dangerous man in front of him, it all made sense. The dragon tattoo. The men. The silence. The violence. Kingstone Investments.

His mouth parted slightly, then closed again. But the fear was too much. The tears came before the words. And when he did finally speak, his voice was hoarse and trembling. "I'm… I'm sorry. I swear, I didn't know you were from Kingston Investments. Please. I didn't know…"