Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!
Inside the headquarters of the Black Dragon Group (B.D.G.), the phone echoed through the sleek, modern office.
On the top floor, Shen Goddem, the chairman and owner of the company, had just finished a high-stakes meeting.
He picked up the call—an investment deal worth 20 billion Kuwaiti dinars, funding a grand commercial complex in Dubai. The negotiation went flawlessly. Shen leaned back with a quiet, satisfied smirk. The deal was sealed.
Moments later, Xin Yin Jin entered, graceful as ever, holding a silver tray. A steaming cup of green tea and two slices of freshly toasted bread spread with butter and light kaya rested neatly on it—his favorite Malaysian afternoon treat.
"Your tea, boss," she said warmly, her tone smooth yet professional.
Shen accepted it, inhaling the calming aroma before taking a slow sip. "As expected, you've still got it, Xin Yin."
Xin adjusted her glasses slightly, crossing her arms under her chest as she watched him. The buttons on her fitted black blouse strained under her curves, though she didn't seem to notice.
"Boss," she said after a pause, "there's a call from the Tucker Family."
"And?" Shen asked, his voice calm and indifferent as he gazed out the tall glass windows. The sunset reflected across the skyline, bathing his office in a warm golden hue.
"They're holding a family meeting. They expect you to attend as well."
"Tch… a family meeting." Shen set down his teacup. "For what reason?"
Xin folded her hands before replying. "I'm assuming it's because you've revealed your true identity—Shen Goddem. Or rather, the man once known as Shen Tucker."
"The old me is dead," Shen said quietly. "Shen Tucker no longer exists. I'm Shen Goddem now—and I trust no one."
Xin Yin Jin sighed. "Boss… there's something else."
"Hm?" Shen turned his gaze toward her. "What could possibly disturb my peaceful evening, Secretary Xin Yin Jin?"
She stepped closer and handed him a folded newspaper, pointing to a headline on the front page.
Prison Break in Sabah — Zac Tucker Escapes.
"Your younger twin brother," she said softly.
Shen's expression darkened. He set the paper down gently but his eyes were sharp as blades. "Should I inform Lady Hunafa about this matter, Boss?" Xin asked cautiously.
"No," Shen muttered, eyes fixed on the fading sunlight. "I don't want Lady Hunafa thinking I need help over small matters. Anything else about Zac's recent movements?"
"Yes," Xin replied, opening a file. "He's made contact with a syndicate and placed a bounty on your head. Dead or alive. And…" she hesitated, "…it's an exclusive one."
"Exclusive?" Shen arched a brow.
Xin nodded. "Apparently, your foolish brother Zac Tucker has reached out to Khontaar himself."
Shen flipped through the report in silence, then closed it with a light thud. He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. "Send a team to guard my wife, Ryona, and my mother-in-law, Belle Monroe."
"At ease, Boss," Xin said, a faint smile curving her lips. "I already did that the moment you looked at the report."
Shen glanced up, amused. "Ehehe… you know me too well, Yin Jin."
"Let's just say," she replied smoothly, "your wife and I have found some… mutual understanding."
Shen chuckled and reached out, gently pulling her closer until she sat on his lap. His arm rested around her waist as he whispered, "Oh? And when did a southern Japanese woman like Ryona and a Chinese-Malaysian woman like you become such good friends?"
Xin smiled and playfully tugged on his tie, her gaze locking with his deep, obsidian eyes. "I may be thirty-six, but you're still just a young man in my eyes, Mister Twenty-Five."
Shen exhaled softly, lips curving in a faint grin. "You talk too much."
Their faces were close—so close that his breath brushed her skin. The air between them thickened with unspoken tension. She smiled faintly, her tone teasing but warm.
"You know this looks like cheating, little boy."
"Oh yeah?" Shen smirked. "You and Ryona got drunk at the Queen of London's party. I took you both home, remember? You two were closer than sisters by the end of the night."
Xin brushed her fingers through his hair, tracing a strand that had fallen over his forehead. "Maybe Ryona wouldn't mind," she murmured. "Besides… I find loyalty and confidence rather attractive."
Shen chuckled, his voice low. "You're impossible, Yin Jin."
"And you," she replied softly, "are dangerous when you smile like that."
He rose from his chair, still holding her close, and they moved toward the couch by the window. The sunset poured through the glass like molten gold, casting their silhouettes against the skyline.
Their movements were slow, wordless—a mixture of tension, trust, and lingering affection that blurred the line between business and emotion.
In that quiet office high above the city, the Chairman and his Secretary shared a rare, stolen moment—one that spoke more of loyalty and human warmth than temptation.
Later, at 8 p.m.
Shen Goddem arrived at the Tucker Family Mansion. The towering gates opened slowly, the sound of iron grinding echoing through the cool night air.
As he stepped inside, he was surprised to see nearly the entire family gathered in the grand hall.
Behind him, Xin Yin Jin, his secretary, followed with steady composure. Her heels clicked lightly against the marble floor.
"Well," she murmured under her breath, glancing around at the crowded room, "I thought this was going to be a regular family meeting. Didn't expect them to bring the whole gang."
Shen didn't answer immediately. Instead, his eyes blinked rapidly in a subtle rhythm — a silent code once used by covert soldiers when captured or under threat.
Xin Yin Jin caught the signal instantly. Without drawing attention, she turned slightly aside and began discreetly texting and making silent calls through her earpiece. Reinforcements, no doubt.
The two of them continued walking until a sharp, echoing crack halted them.
Hela Tucker, Shen Goddem's grandmother, had struck her silver cane against the marble floor.
The entire room fell into silence. Even the faint hum of the air-conditioning seemed to fade. The only sound was the slow ticking of a grandfather clock and the distant croak of night crickets outside.
"Halt right there, Shen Tucker… or should I say, Shen Goddem," Hela declared, her voice slicing through the air like a blade.
Her tone dripped with mockery as her gaze fell on him — sharp, unyielding, and cold. "Look down," she continued, pointing her cane toward the patterned floor. "See the black scorpion etched into the sand design — hand-carved by the Japanese craftsmen. A symbol of venom. Of betrayal."
Members of the Tucker Family circled behind her, a wall of suits and forced smiles. The air thickened with unspoken tension.
"Shen Goddem," Hela hissed, "this is the line you cannot cross between us. You—are a venomous leech. A scorpion feeding off your own kin."
Before she could continue, the sound of slow footsteps echoed from the corridor.
A woman stepped into the hall — Hana Tucker, Shen Goddem's biological mother. Her once-proud posture seemed weighed down by years of guilt. She moved to Shen's side, her expression heavy with regret.
"I know I failed as a mother," she said softly, her eyes trembling as they met his. "When I favored your younger twin, Zac, over you… I lost both my sons in different ways. You don't have to forgive me, Shen. But let me stand by you — even if it's only from afar, like a shadow."
For a moment, Shen said nothing. The silence stretched. Then, with a low sigh, he finally spoke.
"What do you lowlifes want from me this time?"
Hela straightened, her chin high. "I want you, Shen Goddem, to step down as Chairman of the Black Dragon Group," she declared. "Let the Tucker Family take over. After all, you're still one of us. A Tucker helps another Tucker, as the saying goes."
She examined her manicured nails casually, as though this were a fashion show rather than a confrontation. Her diamond ring caught the light.
"Blood," she said smugly, "is thicker than water."
A quiet laugh escaped Shen's throat — low, sharp, and deliberate.
"Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm…"
Hela's eyes narrowed. "You think I'm joking?" she said, her voice rising. "Maybe you should know who's here tonight. I've already decided who will take your place — as Chairman of both T Group and B.D.G."
She snapped her fingers.
From behind her, the heavy oak doors opened.
A man stepped through — tall, confident, wearing a faint, arrogant smile. His presence drew a murmur from the gathered relatives.
"Hello, brother," said Zac Tucker, his tone smooth and venomous.
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Chapter 22 — End.