Semua Bab Luna's Perfect Revenge: Bab 101 - Bab 110

Rocky had never liked small houses on the outskirts of the city, not because they were cramped or dilapidated, but because they always seemed to represent a way of life that felt too real: the sound of children’s laughter, the smell of home cooking, and a kind of honesty that could never truly be negotiated. Yet here he was, standing in front of a pale cream, two-storey house, checking the address on his phone once again before knocking on the door.His first knock went unanswered. It was only on the second knock that he got a response. He heard the sound of small, hurried footsteps.The door opened slightly to reveal the face of a little girl with brown hair tied up carelessly. Her round eyes looked at Rocky fearlessly, yet with innocent curiosity.She blinked once, then asked, “Yes?”Rocky lowered himself so that he was level with the girl. His expression softened. He smiled kindly, but not excessively. “Hello, Diana Doyle,” he said, greeting her. “Is your mother at home?”The littl

Even though the view remained largely unchanged, that morning the Montague Companies, Inc. building did not feel like the same place. Behind the lights that remained on, the glass doors that still opened automatically and the receptionist who continued to greet everyone with a professional smile, something could not be fixed by procedures or emergency meetings alone.Roland had died, and the world did not stop to mourn him. Meanwhile, on the executive floor, Gloria stood in the main conference room with a thin folder in her hand.Usually, the room felt warm with Roland’s presence—his calm voice, and the way he led meetings without ever needing to raise it. Now, the main chair at the head of the table was empty—no one dared to sit there.“Cooperation with Maltiora Energy Group has been officially suspended,” one of the directors announced carefully. “They’re asking for time to reassess reputational risk.”Glo

The night sky stretched out like a dark canvas, lit up by streaks of orange light from the Eastern European motorway. A convoy of tanker trucks bearing the Torres Industries logo moved forward at regular intervals along the toll road cutting through forests and low hills. Their cargo was not just goods, but chemical liquids extracted from mining operations—vital raw materials for power plants and major factories.Several kilometres away from the route, on top of an almost untouched hill, Wade stood upright in a long coat, which shielded him from the night wind. His hands were tucked into his pockets. He stood calmly, as if he were merely an observer who had stopped there by chance. Beside him, Rocky opened a tablet and displayed a satellite map with several blinking points.“The convoy will enter the bridge in four minutes,” Rocky reported bluntly. “Three escort vehicles. Julius’s private police.”Wade did not move. His expres

Since the morning, Estelle had barely left her chair. She only got up occasionally for things that barely mattered, like getting coffee or going to the toilet, before sitting down again.Her office was filled with daylight slanting in through the glass wall. Although the temperature was warm, it created a heavy atmosphere. The brightness flooding the room felt different—too many screens, graphs and numbers, all moving in the same downward direction.Estelle stared at her laptop screen without blinking. The stock chart for the Montague Companies, Inc. moved slowly, neither dramatically nor in free fall. The line declined politely, as if someone were asking permission before leaving a room—and that was precisely what made it dangerous. To her, a gentle decline was a deliberate one.For a moment, Estelle seemed lost in thought before sliding her finger across the trackpad. She opened a longer time range: a week, two weeks, a month. She could see a consi

Two days had passed since news of the distribution disruption first emerged. No miracles had happened overnight, nor had there been a sharp surge that could be called a victory. However, that morning, as Estelle opened the market report at her desk, she noticed something different: the line that had been declining for days had now stopped and bent slightly upwards.The line was thin, almost imperceptible. Yet it was enough to make Estelle pause for longer than usual.This small change stirred an unfamiliar emotion in her mind. Her thoughts spun briefly as if trying to process a stroke of fate unfolding before her. She tried to remain calm, not allowing herself to get too excited too quickly in case it was just a temporary anomaly.Ironically, the sliver of hope that Estelle had kept alive since chaos struck her life grew on its own. She did not want it to, yet she still found herself imagining a future for Montague Companies, Inc. Perhaps Montague Companies, Inc