The rain in the city didn’t wash things clean, it just turned the dirt into a slick, suffocating mud.Aara stood outside the towering glass monolith of Thorne Enterprises, her cheap floral dress soaked through to her skin. Her hands trembled, not just from the biting chill of the wind, but from the weight of the legal folder tucked under her arm. Inside those pages was the death warrant of her family’s legacy a foreclosure notice signed by a man who had never even met her.Damian Thorne.The name alone felt like a bruise. He was the "Vulture of Wall Street," a man who bought struggling companies just to tear them apart for scrap. And today, he had finally reached her father’s small printing press.I’m sorry, Miss, but Mr. Thorne doesn't see anyone without an appointment, the security guard said for the third time. He looked at her with a mix of pity and boredom.Please, Aara’s voice cracked. My father is in the hospital. If he loses the press, he loses his will to live. I just need fi
Last Updated : 2026-02-05 Read more