Masuk
“LEOOOO, OPEN UP THE FUCKING DOOR, BEFORE I BREAK IT!”
The banging grew louder.
“Open up! I know you’re in there!”
They weren’t going to give up unless they broke my door down… or I opened it. And that was never going to happen. Either way, they wouldn’t be satisfied.
Not until they beat the hell out of me. Or I gave them their money. And either way, I didn’t have it.
Not now. Not ever. Not when I couldn’t even get a decent-paying job.
Money.
The root of all evil. And my main problem right now.
The men at the door went quiet for a second, and for a moment, hope flickered in my chest. Maybe I’d gotten lucky. Maybe they had finally left.
All I had to do now was find another place to crash
A brown envelope slid under my door.
I quietly stepped forward and picked it up from the floor.
“We’ll be back next week,” one of them growled from the other side of the door. “And if you don’t have our money by then, Leo, I’m breaking every bone in your body!”
I pulled the paper from the envelope with shaking hands.
“See you next week,” the man added as his heavy footsteps faded down the hallway.
My eyes locked onto the bold print.
And my whole body went still.
My stomach dropped.
“Seven million dollars?!”
There was no way.
I’d only borrowed ten grand. How the hell did it become Seven million?
I knew taking a loan from anyone other than a bank was risky… but I never imagined this. Not like this.
Fuck.
Fuck!
I couldn’t even afford a slice of bread, and they expected Seven million?
On top of that, there were other debts. Different places. Different people.
I was going to die.
Because of money.
I stumbled into my bedroom and grabbed my phone from the bed, dialing the only person I trusted.
“Hello? Leo?”
Relief flooded my chest when I heard his voice.
“Max,” I croaked, gripping the paper tighter. “They say I owe Seven million now. What am I going to do?”
“One of the guys just came here,” I went on. “If I don’t get it by next week, I’m dead. They’ll kick the door down next time. I know they will.”
“Whoa Leo, slow down. Seven million?!” he shouted.
“You need to go to the police. This is way out of hand. You’re being scammed and threatened. You have to tell them.”
Tears slipped down my cheeks and I didn’t even bother wiping them away.
“I already did,” I whispered. “They won’t help me. The banks have blacklisted me, and now work is drying up. I screwed up, Max. I never should’ve borrowed the money, but I was desperate.”
The more I thought about it… maybe I should just open the door next time.
Let them beat me.
Beg for my life.
Maybe they’d let me live if I worked for them.
Work off my debt.
My life was the only thing I had left to offer.
“I have an idea,” Max said carefully. “But it’s a long shot.”
“What?” I exhaled sharply. “I’ll do anything at this point. As long as it’s not something sketchy.”
“It’s not like that,” he insisted. “I knew a guy who helped this singer. She was in trouble and went to this man. He gave her the money. All she had to do was one simple thing whatever he asked and she did it.”
“That girl was Maltida Benson. Lead singer of Musical college. She took the deal, and after that? She got her dream. Fame. Money. Success.”
Maltida.
I knew the name.
One minute no one had heard of her next she was everywhere. Charts. Makeup ads. Awards.
“What did she do?” I asked quietly, tapping my foot. “It can’t be that simple.”
“Don’t know. NDA or something,” he said. Then his tone brightened. “But this could be your chance. Movie roles. Debts gone. You need this, Leo.”
“What else do you even have left to lose?”
He was right.
All I had was my bed… an empty fridge with ketchup inside… and the clothes I was wearing.
Still, something about this felt wrong.
No one gave away millions for nothing.
No one.
“Okay,” I said shakily. “Who is he?”
My pride was already shattered.
I had no other options left.
“Grayson Knight .”
The name meant nothing to me.
“Is it real?” I asked. “Would he even see me?”
Max hesitated.
“I mean… there’s no harm in trying, right?” he said awkwardly. “I’ll send the number and address. They say he’s the devil but he gets things done.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “I don’t even know what I’d do without you. You’re my guardian angel.”
“Just stay alive until then,” he said firmly. “I am not burying my best friend, you hear me?”
Then he hung up.
A moment later, the address and number came through.
My stomach twisted when I read his name again.
Opening G****e, I typed it in.
Grayson Knight .
I clicked the first result his Wikipedia page.
And the first thing that hit me…
Was his face.
I’d expected an old, creepy, rich man with a taste for younger people.
But Grayson was young.
Handsome.
And disgustingly wealthy.
It said he’d built his empire himself. From nothing. And fast.
One of New york’s youngest and richest bachelors.
In the first photo, he stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling window with behind him. Arms crossed. Expression cold.
The image screamed money.
Power.
Control.
I scrolled.
My eyes nearly popped out of my head.
Billionaire.
Owner of Knight Enterprises.
CEO of Magical one of the biggest talent agencies in New york.
In the world.
Anyone signed to Magical had already made it.
That building was a dream most people would never even stand inside.
If I got in…
TV shows.
Movies.
No more dead-end commercials airing at midnight.
No more scraping by.
No more begging.
I sucked in a breath.
I was done running.
I was done hiding.
This was my only move left.
I tapped the call button.
Grayson Knight.
Autumn arrived slowly.The air cooled, the trees around their neighborhood turning gold and amber. Leo noticed it one morning while walking Aria to the bus stop.She held his hand loosely, her backpack bouncing with each step.“Papa,” she said suddenly.“Yes, warrior?”She squinted up at him.“Were you famous before?”Leo blinked.“That’s a complicated question.”She nodded very seriously.“Because Emma at school said you’re on the internet.”Leo sighed softly.“The internet says a lot of things.”“But are you famous?”Leo crouched so they were eye level.“I’m not famous,” he said gently. “I just work in places where people sometimes notice.”Aria considered that.“Like a superhero?”Leo smiled.“Less capes. More meetings.”She wrinkled her nose.“That sounds boring.”He laughed.“Sometimes it is.”The bus arrived just then, and she climbed on, waving dramatically through the window.Leo stood there a moment longer after it left.Kids had a way of simplifying things adults complicated
Six months later, the house had somehow become even louder.Leo stood in the kitchen early one Saturday morning, holding a mug of coffee that had already gone cold. From the living room came the sound of arguing.Not seriously arguing.Kid arguing.“I was here first!” their son shouted.“You moved the pillow!” Aria shot back.“That’s not how forts work!”Leo leaned against the counter and smiled.Grayson walked in behind him, tying the strings of his hoodie.“Let me guess,” he said.“Territory dispute.”Grayson peeked into the living room.The pillow fortress had expanded to take up half the space.“Impressive architecture,” he muttered.Leo took a sip of his cold coffee and grimaced.“Remember when Saturdays were quiet?”Grayson kissed the top of his head.“No.”Leo laughed softly.Life had changed in ways Leo hadn’t expected.The reform committee had finished its work, and the results were already reshaping Carter Industries.Employee satisfaction had jumped.New leadership programs
The reform committee met for the first time on a rainy Wednesday morning.Leo arrived early.Not because he had to.Because he wanted to see the room before it filled with expectations.The conference space was smaller than the boardroom, but still impressive glass walls, long tables, and screens ready for presentations.A new battlefield.But a different kind.When the door opened behind him, Richard stepped in quietly.“You look like you’re planning a revolution,” he said.Leo didn’t turn around immediately.“Not a revolution,” he replied.“A renovation.”Richard nodded once.“Those are harder.”Leo finally faced him.“You’re not attending the committee?”“No,” Richard said. “This is your project.”Leo raised an eyebrow.“Delegation from you? I’m shocked.”“Don’t get used to it.”They shared the faintest hint of a smile before the rest of the committee arrived.Executives.HR leaders.Regional managers.People who had never been in the same room before.Leo watched their expressions
Monday morning started quietly.Too quietly.Leo noticed it the moment he walked into Carter Industries.Usually the lobby hummed with the soft roar of business conversations, phones ringing, heels on marble floors.Today, people were whispering.One young employee near the elevator gave him a small, nervous thumbs-up.Leo blinked.He returned it.When he reached the executive floor, Richard was already waiting.“You’re trending again,” Richard said without looking up from his tablet.Leo sighed.“I really need a less exciting life.”Richard turned the screen toward him.Not outrage.Support.Thousands of comments praising Carter Industries for investigating Whitman.Employees sharing personal stories about workplace inclusion.Investors discussing “modern leadership.”Leo leaned back slowly.“That’s… not what I expected.”Richard nodded.“The company culture was waiting for someone to say it out loud.”Leo raised an eyebrow.“And that someone was me?”Richard gave a thin smile.“You’
The first Carter Industries board meeting Leo attended felt like walking into a battlefield wearing a calm expression.Grayson had insisted on driving him.“Emotional support chauffeur,” he’d joked.Leo adjusted his tie as the car stopped in front of the towering glass building.“You know they hate me already.”Grayson leaned across the console and kissed him quickly.“Correction,” he said. “They fear you.”Leo rolled his eyes.“That’s not better.”“Actually,” Grayson replied, opening the door for him, “it’s much better.”Leo stepped out, shoulders squared.Inside, the boardroom was exactly what he expected.Polished walnut table.Floor-to-ceiling windows.Ten executives already seated.Seven of them stared at him like he had brought a bomb instead of a briefcase.Richard Carter sat at the head of the table.“Mr. Carter-Knight,” he said calmly. “Welcome.”Leo took the empty seat halfway down.Across from him, a gray-haired man cleared his throat.“Before we begin,” he said stiffly, “I
Leo’s phone wouldn’t stop vibrating.At first he ignored it. He was halfway through pouring coffee when the buzzing started again then again then again.Notifications.Missed calls.Messages piling up faster than he could read them.Something was wrong.Grayson walked into the kitchen just as Leo stared down at the screen, his face drained of color.Grayson immediately felt it.“What happened?”Leo didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned the phone toward him.“A video,” he said quietly.Grayson took the phone.The clip was short less than ten seconds.It showed Leo sitting at a closed-door donor meeting months ago. A room full of investors and philanthropists.Leo speaking calmly.Then the video cut sharply.“…legacy money built on exclusion…”Cut.The video ended there.Below it, a caption burned across the screen:“Carter Heir Attacks Family Business While Profiting From It.”Grayson swore under his breath.“They cut the full statement,” Leo said, rubbing his forehead. “I







