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.

gone to great

him, you sent assassins to ambush him. You had your people block his way in the parking lot.

talent for orchestrating drama, maybe you should try directing movies instead. Being president is clearly a waste

darkened, his eyes narrowing with venomous

room. All eyes turned to Jasper, taking in his battered form. The injuries on his muscular frame and the blood streaking his impassive face were

"His grandfather clawed his way up from the ganglands

Harper treats Mr. Jasper like

"What about Mr. Justin?"

when it comes to power, friends

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