Lahat ng Kabanata ng Resurrected Vengeance : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

KaelFor a single, suspended second, the air in Banjo’s office went completely still. I watched his eyes track the lines of the code, waiting for the realization to break through his unyielding pride. I waited for him to see that the woman he had spent three years stepping on was the very power holding his entire empire by the throat.Then, Banjo let out a short, hollow laugh.He didn't panic. Instead, a cold, mocking smile spread across his face as he shook his head, leaning back into his chair."Is this what you've resorted to, Merinda?" he asked, his voice calm as ever. "A fake terminal interface? A high end coding trick you bought off some dark web broker to scare me?""What?""Do you really think I'm that stupid?" Banjo tapped his fingers lazily against the armrest, his eyes locking onto mine. "The Kael Syndicate is a ghost organization managed by an international board in Singapore and London. You expect me to believe that a penniless, desperate girl whose father died begging my

Kael"Hostile takeover?" Banjo shouted out, his voice cracking slightly under the shock. "That's impossible. The Vance family holds fifty one percent of the master voting shares. Nobody can execute a takeover without my personal security key.""They don't need your key, Master Banjo," Jarrah said, his voice shaking as he held up the satellite phone. "The master vault code wasn't cracked from the outside. It was authorized using an internal administrative clearance from this very building fifteen minutes ago."I looked at Jarrah, the man who only hours ago, I had overheard conspiring with Tahlia to steal my father's Syndicate keys. He was acting terrified but beneath his frantic act, I saw the not obvious, cold calculation in his eyes.Banjo didn't notice. He went towards his deck, grabbed his tablet in fury tapping at the glass screen. Rows of red error messages flashed across his face. "It's blocked," Banjo muttered. "My master access was revoked. How is this happening?!"Before Jar

KaelBaden Lawson’s voice faded into silence as Banjo ended the call, sliding the phone into his pocket. I watched him, he looked absolutely shocked with a hint of anger as he looked up at me."His secret partner," Banjo murmured, still in a daze, the words coming out in a low, shallow tone. "He was talking about your father's old contacts, wasn't he? You didn't do this alone. You brought your family's rot straight into my house.""Listen to yourself, Banjo," I shouted, my throat tight as I forced myself to stand up my legs were trembling, but I refused to stay seated while he looked down at me like a disgraced criminal. "Look at the paper in your hand. Look at the digital trail you're so eager to believe.""The trail is clean," he spat. "It leads straight to this room. Straight to your device.""It's too clean!" I stepped toward him, pointing at the scattered sheets on the bed. "Look at the timestamps on those bank transfers! Eight fifteen AM yesterday. The email sent to Baden Lawson

KaelThe door of the private holding room clicked shut with a sharp ring.The high magistrate’s lawyer and the federal marshals had stepped out into the hallway to complete the clearance protocols but Banjo was no longer in the room. He had been practically dragged out moments earlier by his own frantic legal team after his phone blew up with urgent alerts from the Vance Enterprises emergency board.I was not alone, though.Standing near the corner of the room was Jarrah, he didn't look like a man whose conspirator had just been detained at the airport. His posture was as straight and immaculate as it had been during his thirty years of service to the Vance family. His face was a mask of perfect, icy calm, though a dark, calculating intelligence gleamed deep within his eyes."You played a dangerous card today, Miss Merinda," Jarrah said, his voice smooth, soft, and entirely devoid of his usual servant's deference.I turned my head slowly, looking at him from where I sat from. "You're

KaelThe leather seat of the limousine barely registered the cold against my fingertips before the sound of the engine wrapped around me like an embrace I hadn't felt in three years.Outside the rain slicked window, the neon lights of Zurich stretched out in streaks of red and yellow. Up on the hill, the shadow of Banjo's penthouse tower was speeding into the low storm clouds. He was probably still standing in that police basement, clutching the signed divorce papers while his corporate bank accounts bled dry.I didn't feel triumph. In fact, I'd expected an immense emptiness in the center of my chest, the weight of three wasted years and bruises that hadn't healed, and the bitter taste of the fact that to defeat a monster, I had to stop pretending to be a victim.The silver haired man sitting across from me, my father's most trusted advisor before the syndicate fell apart, silently reached forward. He placed a small black satchel on the table between us.Inside he'd placed a satellite