Everyone turned to look behind them.

Justin's icy gaze locked onto the doors, his expression dark and foreboding.

The light pouring in from outside was blinding, piercing through the shadows like a blade. As the crowd squinted against the glare, two figures emerged, standing tall and resolute side by side.

It was Jasper and Landon.

Clad in a sleek black suit, Landon bore traces of dust but appeared otherwise unscathed. Jasper, however, was a stark contrast. His clothes were torn and bloodied, his appearance disheveled, but his demeanor was anything but defeated.

Standing straight and proud, his frigid stare was enough to make the crowd shrink back, unwilling to meet his eyes.

his voice sharp and cutting, "you've gone to great lengths to keep Jasper from this

of a street-hardened fighter, Landon didn't mince words. "To stop him, you sent assassins to ambush him. You had your people block his way

to stoop to any low to get your way! With all your talent for orchestrating drama, maybe you should try directing

expression darkened, his eyes narrowing with venomous

form. The injuries on his muscular frame and the blood streaking

Mr. Harper's roots," another replied. "His grandfather clawed his way up from the ganglands to build their empire. That family isn't afraid of anyone-not

sure-Mr. Harper treats Mr. Jasper like a

"What about Mr. Justin?"

when it comes to power, friends are a

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