C8 8

“This is a total shakedown.”

Chloe Bishop’s soft features sharpened with a lethal edge. Her hands were clenched so tight her knuckles turned white. “We need to call the police, Mom. We can’t let them get away with this.”

Mrs. Bishop shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “It’s no use. We have no hard evidence, and your sister is still in their hands. Calling the cops will only provoke them. What if they hurt her?”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Chloe felt a surge of helpless fury. Her parents had spent their entire lives building the Bishop Group. How could she just hand it over to a pack of wolves?

If her father ever woke up and found the company gone, how could she face him?

“But it’s only been a week!” Chloe continued, her voice trembling. “Arthur Bishop is an ungrateful snake. If Dad hadn't given him a prestigious job out of family loyalty years ago, he’d be nothing today!”

“What choice do we have?” Mrs. Bishop was near a total breakdown. “Your sister is so tiny. She can’t handle being moved around by those thugs.”

Watching her mother crumble, Chloe felt her heart being shredded. She stepped forward and pulled her mother into a tight embrace. “Don’t worry, Mom,” she whispered, her voice raspy. “I promise you, I will bring Lily back, and I will protect Dad’s company. No one is taking what belongs to the Bishops.”

Chloe immediately took action. She downloaded the hospital security footage to her phone and sent the stills to every contact in her circle, offering a reward for any info on the man in the baseball cap. She also hired a private security team to guard the hospital floor 24/7.

But two days passed, and there was still no sign of Lily. Her mother’s eyes were swollen from crying, looking years older than she was.

Desperate and out of options, Chloe finally called Justin. “Justin, I need you to take me somewhere.”

The Grand Imperial

The Grand Imperial was the most prestigious high-end club in the city. Chloe was there to find a man named Quinn. Quinn was a legend in the city—a man who walked the line between the corporate world and the underworld. He had once been a casual acquaintance of her father’s.

Chloe was prepared to pay any price to have him settle the Bishop family’s crisis.

The elevator hummed as it climbed toward the top floors. At the 6th floor, the doors slid open, and a small figure stumbled inside. Chloe reacted instantly, catching the child before he could hit the floor.

It was a little boy, maybe four or five years old. He wore a crisp white T-shirt and plaid shorts. He was incredibly adorable—pale, soft skin, and a head of dark, curly hair that made him look like a little puppy.

“Are you okay?” Facing the child, Chloe couldn't help but offer a gentle, warm smile.

The "little puppy" had initially tried to push her away, but he froze when he saw her smile. He stared up at her with huge, dark eyes, unblinking.

Chloe thought he was just in shock. She reached out and lightly ruffled his hair. “Don’t be scared. You’re safe now.”

The boy didn't move. He just kept staring at her as if he’d seen an angel.

“Thank you.”

A deep, resonant voice vibrated from above. The little boy was suddenly lifted out of Chloe’s arms.

Chloe looked up and locked eyes with a pair of intense, dark orbs. She didn't know how to describe the man standing before her. He had a face that women would ruin themselves for—sharp brows, eyes like midnight, a high bridge to his nose, and thin, tempting lips. He looked like a masterpiece carved by the gods themselves.

But it was his aura that was impossible to ignore. He radiated a cold, regal dominance. It was the kind of presence only a man with absolute power could possess. He was clearly someone very dangerous.

The man seemed irritated by her gaze. His thick brows furrowed slightly, and he turned his face away, projecting a sense of icy detachment.

Chloe quickly checked herself and looked away. She had only been momentarily stunned by his looks—a natural human instinct.

The atmosphere in the elevator shifted. His presence was so overwhelming that the spacious car suddenly felt cramped. Chloe felt a wave of pressure and instinctively stepped closer to Justin to put some distance between her and the stranger.

Justin seemed on high alert, physically stepping in front of Chloe as if guarding his most precious possession from a predator.

The man noticed Justin’s protective gesture, and a flicker of mockery—pure, arrogant disdain—crossed his eyes.

Interestingly, the little boy at the man’s feet kept sneaking glances at Chloe. When she caught him looking, he turned bright red. It was incredibly cute, but Chloe’s heart was too heavy to play along.

The elevator reached the 38th floor. Chloe and Justin stepped out first.

As Chloe walked away, the little boy’s eyes dimmed. But a second later, he was scooped up by the man and carried out after them. The boy’s eyes lit up instantly, his gaze glued to Chloe’s retreating figure.

The man watched his son’s reaction with a hint of surprise. He had never seen the little guy show such an intense interest in any "object" before.

Chloe and Justin headed toward the reception desk. They needed to find Quinn’s exact location.

Ahead of them, a stunningly beautiful woman was approaching the man and his son. She was flanked by a dozen massive bodyguards—a formidable entourage.

The moment she appeared, everyone in the lobby turned to look. Chloe recognized her immediately. It was Nightingale, Quinn’s woman. Chloe pulled Justin back. “Follow her. She’ll lead us to him.”

Nightingale was legendary. She was breathtakingly beautiful—often described as a "fox spirit" in human form—and famous for her ruthless management of Quinn’s empire. No one dared cause trouble on her turf. People often said she was exactly the kind of woman an "Underworld King" deserved.

Nightingale stopped in front of the man, her voice a sultry, cat-like purr. “Mr. Grayson, Quinn has the wine and food ready. He’s waiting for you in the VIP suite. Please, follow me.”

The man gave a curt nod. His face remained a mask of indifference. His height and natural authority made him tower over the crowd; even the legendary Nightingale seemed small beside him.

The whispers in the lobby started instantly.

“Who is that guy? Quinn is a titan in this city, yet he only calls himself 'Quinn' to this man. Nightingale just called him Mr. Grayson.”

Chloe’s heart skipped a beat. Grayson?

She looked at the man’s back as he walked away, carrying the little boy. A name from ten years ago echoed in her mind.

Xavier Grayson.

The "demon" from her sixteenth birthday. The boy she had rejected. The boy who had reportedly returned to the city to wash the streets in the blood of those who had wronged him.

Could it really be him?