LOGIN"As far as I know, David... the assets you are referring to belong exclusively to the Mercer Clan."
David froze instantly. He turned deathly pale, his face etched with sheer terror—as if he had seen a ghost. Walking toward us was a man in his early thirties wearing a bespoke charcoal double-breasted suit. His dark eyes were sharp, and his hair was combed neatly back, exuding an aura of dangerous, unshakable authority. He carried a sleek leather briefcase bearing a silver emblem—the crest of the Mercer family. Elias Mercer. The legendary corporate executioner—and my mother’s younger brother. David took half a step back, his voice trembling in horror. "E-Elias?! You... you were in Europe! Why did you come back? What are you doing here?" Elias stopped beside me, placing a warm, protective hand on my shoulder before fixing David with a chilling stare that sent him into a state of terrifying intensity. "My father, Thomas Mercer, sent me back," Elias said coldly, his voice echoing like a death sentence in the quiet tea house. "We heard that my niece had turned twenty-one... and we came to collect from those who should have paid their debt long ago." David's face turned deathly pale the moment Elias uttered those words. He knew those remarks were directed straight at him. Although he was aware they held no solid evidence yet, a wave of absolute horror left him weak and trembling. In fact, he was so frightened he felt as though he might collapse on the spot. He knew exactly who Elias Mercer was—a man feared in the high-stakes corporate underworld as an executioner who silently dismantled lives. He was the man who came to collect debts that could never be made public. He knew there would be no mercy once the full truth came to light. That was why, before executing their original murder plot years ago, David and Valerie had secretly conspired with the Mercer family's bitter rivals—specifically Sebastian Valdez, a cunning and bold tycoon unafraid to clash with the Mercers. Valdez had once helped establish the Global Syndicate alongside Thomas Mercer and Rodolfo Monteverde, forming a formidable power structure. I need to get out of here immediately, David thought frantically, to let the Valdezes know Elias has returned and to plan how to eliminate him. "Is that so? It’s good you’re back. Aurelia’s birthday is coming up soon, after all," David said, forcing a voice laced with bitter sarcasm. "By the way, how is your father? Is he still alive?" My jaw tightened instantly. Was he implying that my grandfather was on the verge of death? I suppressed my rising anger, knowing I had to remain composed to carry out my revenge. Taking a deep breath, I turned to Jacob. "You should leave now, Jacob. Take Dad with you, too. I’d like to speak with my uncle and spend some time with him—please?" I feigned a calm, polite demeanor. Suddenly, David shouted furiously, "What right do you have to send your father away, Aurelia?! You actually have the nerve to order me to leave?!" "Try shouting at my niece again, David," Elias said calmly, though his tone carried an unmistakable, lethal threat. David swallowed hard, taking a step back. "Fine. I’ll leave. But make sure you get Aurelia home before dark—is that clear?" He fixed me with a final warning glare. Before they could turn around, a loud, deep laugh cut through the tense atmosphere. My eyes widened in shock and confusion. "He came back?" I whispered to myself. Walking toward us was the person I had shared a chaotic "frenemy" relationship with since childhood—Drake Monteverde. He was the one who used to tease me mercilessly, yet always defended me against bullies when my mother was still alive—before Dad's second family and Jacob invaded my life. Drake was known as the "wild prince" of the Monteverde clan. He had returned from Europe at the exact same time as my uncle. What could possibly be the reason for his sudden return when his entire family was already settled abroad? "And who are you? Why are you meddling in family matters? Stay out of this!" Jacob shouted, an intense, instinctual irritation flaring up inside him as he glared at the newcomer. "Oh, so you're part of the family?" Drake asked, wearing an infuriating, gorgeous smirk. Before the situation could escalate into a fistfight, I interjected, "Please, stop. People are staring at us. Jacob, Dad—please leave. I promise I’ll be home before dark." "Alright, babe. I’m heading out. I’ll give you a call later, okay?" Jacob said tenderly, reaching out to hold my hands. I gently pulled my hands away and forced a nod with a fake smile. A few moments later, the tea house’s double glass doors closed behind them. Finally, I could breathe. I didn't have to pretend anymore. The exhaustion of playing the docile victim for five long years suddenly hit me all at once. "Pfft!" A stifled laugh broke the silence. I snapped my head toward Drake, glaring at him. I had forgotten he was still standing there. Elias just shook his head at our familiar bickering and smiled warmly at me. "You look much better when you show your true self, Aurelia—like the girl you used to be: strong and brave." I froze. I hadn't even realized that warm tears were already streaming down my cheeks. Seeing me weep, my uncle immediately pulled me into a protective embrace. "What happened, my dear niece? Are you in pain? Did they hurt you?" Elias asked gently, stroking my hair. "Tell me, and I will make them pay—not just double, but a thousand times over." He was comforting the last living memory of his late sister, Sofia Mercer—the beloved first princess of the Mercer clan. I sobbed quietly against his chest as the torment of my past life flooded back into my mind. Why hadn't I turned to my mother's family back then? I knew they would never have abandoned me, but I had been too blind, naive, and manipulated to reach out. By the time I learned the truth in my past life, I was already dying in that warehouse. After a few minutes, I wiped my eyes and regained my composure, transforming back into the steadfast woman determined to execute her revenge. "Uncle, why did you come back personally? Shouldn't Sir Ryan be the one here? He is my designated personal lawyer," I asked, frowning in confusion. This hadn't happened in my past life. Was this the butterfly effect of my rebirth? Or had my uncle returned then, too, only for David to secretly intercept and prevent our meeting? Deep down, I had a strong hunch that David wasn't working alone. He was far too cowardly to take on the Mercer family by himself. But who else was pulling the strings from the shadows? My uncle's voice snapped me back to reality. "Your grandfather changed his mind and sent me instead of Ryan. He feels much more at ease with me handling this directly, especially with your twenty-first birthday approaching." Elias prepared to stand up, scanning our surroundings suspiciously. "I think we should move to a secure location. I don't trust this place—there are too many eyes." Before I could grab my belongings, someone snatched my clutch bag off the table. "Let's go, Kitten. What are you waiting for—Christmas?" Drake smirked, slinging my bag over his shoulder. He was as infuriating as ever. Frowning, I followed them out.Three Years Later. The central citadel of the Monteverde-Mercer Syndicate stood quiet under the clear morning sky. High above the coastal cliffs, inside the state-of-the-art command center, holograms projected real-time intelligence feeds, global trade routes, and financial analytics spanning across five continents. A senior regional director bowed nervously as he presented his quarterly report. "M-Matriarch Aurelia... the European distribution networks have achieved a thirty percent increase in efficiency since the corrupt board members were replaced. No insurgencies have been reported." I sat comfortably in the leather master chair, casually swirling a glass of iced water. I was dressed in a soft, tailored black suit, the silver signet ring gleaming on my finger. "Good," I said calmly, my voice instantly striking respectful awe into the hearts of the executives present. "Keep the security protocols tight. If anyone attempts to divert funds again, don't bring them to me—hand them
Two months had passed in a blur of global reorganization—a swift purge of the organization’s remaining vermin, accompanied by sweeping administrative overhauls and tight security deployments across every major sector. Yet today, the entire syndicate was about to witness an unprecedented gathering. The roar of heavy warships and private jets landing on the estate’s private runway filled the air—not for war, but to celebrate a monumental, historic union. The sprawling Mercer-Monteverde coastal estate had been transformed into an impenetrable fortress of dark opulence. Crimson roses lined the white marble cliffside walkways, contrasting sharply against black and silver silk banners bearing the family’s newly merged crest. Inside the grand dressing suite, Drake stood before a full-length mirror, adjusting the silver cufflinks of his bespoke tuxedo. A subtle mix of nervous energy and quiet excitement stirred within him as he anticipated seeing his bride. He smiled faintly at his reflec
The following evening, the entire estate buzzed with intense preparation for the grand ceremony marking my official ascension as supreme leader—the Matriarch who would command two merged global powers: the Monteverde-Mercer Syndicate. As I was getting ready in my suite for the event, a quiet knock interrupted my thoughts. I furrowed my brows in surprise when I saw Drake leaning against the doorframe with a crooked smile. "What are you doing here, Drake?" I asked, my voice full of concern. "Shouldn't you be resting since your wound hasn't fully healed yet? You have to attend my ceremony in a bit." "Don't worry, kitten," he replied softly, his voice dropping into a low, husky tone. "I'm fine. I just wanted to be with you. I missed you so much... my whole body has been aching for you." His dark eyes burned with intense, Unrestrained desire. As much as I wanted to act composed, the undeniable truth was that I missed him just as deeply. Without another word of hesitation, I stepped for
In the private, classic-style office within our Mercer stronghold, we gathered around a long glass table. Drake, Grandfather Thomas, and Uncle Elias looked at us with stony seriousness, while Grandfather Rodolfo sat back, smiling and cracking jokes. "What are you staring at, Drake? You look completely spaced out—your Grandpa Thomas might just kick you out! Hahaha," Grandfather Rodolfo teased. He was clearly waiting to see how my grandfather and Uncle Elias would react. Tsk! What a character of a grandfather—he actively wanted his grandson to look pathetic in front of Thomas and Elias. The thought brought a faint smile to my lips. "U-uh, Grandpa, you speak first—hehe—I promise I'll follow suit," Drake replied, his voice tinged with genuine nervousness as he winked at the old man. "Ahem! What exactly are you two up to, hmm? You’d better tell me now while I’m still in a good mood," Grandfather Thomas said calmly, though a sharp warning undertone echoed in his chest. "God bless,
A moment later, the door burst open with a loud crash that echoed throughout the executive suite. "Oh? Why is it so quiet? Don't mind me—please, continue your discussion," I said, walking toward the seat befitting a leader: the very chair my grandfather, Thomas, had occupied for forty years. I wouldn't hesitate to take it. As I sat down, my gaze locked onto the twelve regional directors and syndicate elders seated around the long oblong table. The room had previously been filled with hushed, anxious murmurs, but the moment the soles of my tactical boots clicked against the crystal marble floor, absolute silence descended upon the room. I smirked at the mixture of emotions in their eyes—fear, anger, confusion, and reluctant awe. I noticed them eyeing my attire with disdain. Was it because I lacked formal wear or a traditional dress? Instead, I was clad in my dark, form-fitting commander's uniform; the silver Mercer emblem on my lapel gleamed under the chandelier light. Behind me,
The Mercer Syndicate’s central stronghold and executive compound loomed ominously against the stormy horizon. Scaffolding of dark steel, fortified watchtowers, and gleaming glass spires rose from the cliffside, overlooking the violent waves below. Lined up along the runway, elite guards in full tactical dress, regional branch directors from across four continents, and seasoned field commanders stood in flawless formation, respectfully awaiting our arrival—standing at absolute attention for their new Matriarch and Drake. Within moments, our flagship fleet touched down on the reinforced landing pad of the executive complex. As the heavy hydraulic doors of our transport hissed open, we stepped out into the crisp sea air. We were immediately met with an atmosphere thick with palpable tension, yet charged with profound respect and awe for our decisive victory over Sebastian Valdez—the long-standing "Great Thorn" on our organization's side. Permanently eliminating him and sinking his offs






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