James Carter did not move. For a man whose entire career was built on split-second decisions—buying companies in three-minute phone calls, liquidating failing subsidiaries before breakfast, and commanding boardrooms of

At 2:00 PM, the silence of the VIP floor was shattered by the sharp, authoritative thump of a wooden cane hitting the marble tiles outside the suite.

The heavy oak doors were pushed open by two burly private security guards wearing dark suits.

Behind them walked Richard Carter.

At seventy-two, the patriarch of the Carter family was still an imposing figure. Wearing a tailor-made double-breasted navy coat, his silver hair brushed back immaculately, his cold blue eyes swept over the room with the arrogance of a man who owned empires.

"What is the meaning of this, James?" Richard demanded, his booming voice echoing off the high ceilings as he stepped into the room. "I just received a call from the board of directors! The Korean investors are threatening to pull out of the forty-billion-dollar merger because you walked out of the room ten minutes before signing!"

Julian Vance immediately stepped forward, but James held up a hand, stopping his chief of staff.

James stood up slowly from the edge of the sofa. His posture was rigid, his shoulders broad, his face transformed into a mask of pure, absolute ice.

"Get out of here, Richard," James said, his voice terrifyingly quiet.

Richard stopped, blinking in disbelief at his son’s tone, before his eyes darted over to the velvet sofa where Lily was sitting, clutching Mr. Bear and shrinking back into the cushions.

Richard’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the child, recognizing the green eyes instantly. A flash of genuine panic crossed the old man's face before he quickly covered it with anger.

"So it's true," Richard sneered, tapping his cane against the floor. "My security team told me you brought a street girl and her illegitimate brat up to the executive suite. You're throwing away a multi-billion-dollar deal for that tutor from Brooklyn?"

"She is not a street girl," James said, stepping forward until he was standing three inches from his father's face. "Her name is Clara Morgan. And that child sitting on the sofa is my daughter."

Richard scoffed, turning his head away. "Don't be naive, James! You have no proof of that! That woman was a opportunist five years ago, and she’s using that kid to extort you now—"

CLANG.

James’s hand shot out like a steel trap, grabbing his father by the lapels of his thousand-dollar coat and driving him backward against the oak door frame with a force that rattled the brass brass handles.

The two security guards instantly reached inside their jackets for their weapons, but Julian Vance pulled a small black remote from his pocket and pressed a button. Four of James’s private executive bodyguards stepped out from the side rooms, weapons drawn and aimed directly at Richard’s men.

"Stand down," Julian warned the guards calmly. "You're in James Carter's house now."

Richard stared at his son, his face turning pale as he felt the sheer, terrifying strength in James’s grip. For thirty-five years, Richard had controlled James—manipulating his choices, steering his career, orchestrating his relationships, and shaping him into the ruthless corporate heir to Carter Global.

He had never seen James look at him like this. It was not the anger of a son; it was the rage of a predator protecting his pride.

"Listen to me very carefully, old man," James whispered, his voice dropping so low it sounded like grinding stones. "Five years ago, you lied to me. You fabricated bank records, you threatened a defenceless woman, and you drove my family into hiding."

"I saved you from a mistake!" Richard hissed, trying to maintain his authority. "She was a nobody! A middle-class schoolteacher! She would have ruined your standing in society! You were meant to marry into the Sterling family!"

"You didn't save me," James said, his fingers digging deeper into Richard's lapels. "You robbed me of five years with my wife and my daughter. You left my child to grow up without a father, eating cold soup in a Brooklyn apartment while you lectured me on family legacy."

"James... you are out of your mind—"

"I am taking full control of Carter Global at eight o'clock tomorrow morning," James interrupted smoothly, his eyes flashing with lethal intent. "I hold fifty-one percent of the voting shares. By noon, your office on the 80th floor will be cleared out. Your security clearance will be revoked. Your credit lines will be frozen."

Richard’s eyes widened in horror. "You can't do that to your own father!"

"Watch me," James said coldly. "If you ever come within a hundred yards of Clara or Lily again, I will not just ruin you financially, Richard. I will release the forensic audit files of your Swiss foundations to the Department of Justice. You will spend the rest of your life in a federal penitentiary."

James released his grip, shoving his father backward. Richard stumbled, catching himself on his cane, his chest heaving as he stared at his son in utter shock.

"Get him out of my sight," James commanded his bodyguards.

The two executive guards grabbed Richard’s arms, disarming his security detail, and escorted the stunned, trembling patriarch down the hallway.

When the heavy doors closed, the room fell into complete silence again.

James stood in the center of the room, taking a deep, ragged breath, trying to steady his shaking hands. He felt a soft, light touch against his trousers.

He looked down.

Lily had stepped off the sofa. She was standing beside him, holding his hand with both of hers, looking up at him with wide, curious eyes.

"Was that a bad man?" Lily asked softly.