Chloe's POV:

The atmosphere in the New World Plaza was thick with unspoken tension. Amelia sat on the pavement, her face pale with shock, seeking shelter behind Lance. The car that had been the pride of her social circle now stood as a distorted ruin of metal and glass.

Lance stepped forward, his expression grim as he confronted Nate. "Don't you think this has gone a bit too far?"

Nate remained unmoved, his demeanor as cold as the morning frost. "Mr. Olson, justice is often a matter of perspective. If some lines hadn't been crossed regarding Miss Chloe, we wouldn't be standing here today."

"She didn't do anything to you!" Lance countered, his gaze involuntarily drifting toward me. Suspicion flickered in his eyes. He couldn't fathom how I was connected to people who carried such a terrifying air of authority.

Nate straightened his suit, a look of calm disdain on his face. "She crossed someone she shouldn't have. You should be grateful that I am the one resolving this. Believe me, the alternative would have been much more... definitive."

My eyes drifted toward the unassuming Maybach parked in the distance. As the chaos reached its peak, Nate approached the vehicle. The rear window lowered with a smooth, mechanical hum.

Against the glow of the sunset, the profile of a man emerged. His features were sharp—a high bridge of the nose and lips set in a firm, noble line. The light outlined his silhouette, casting a halo that only emphasized his unparalleled presence.

So, he was here. He had seen everything.

I felt a small, bitter smile touch my lips before I turned my gaze away. Keira, huddled behind Lance, squinted through the glare, trying to catch a glimpse of the man behind the glass. She was clearly struck by the sheer aura of wealth and power emanating from the car—a level of prestige rarely seen even in P City.

The man’s voice, low and devoid of emotion, carried through the evening air. "Ensure she is treated at the hospital. Compensate for the vehicle according to the standard rates."

The window slid back up, sealing him away once more. The authority in his tone left no room for argument. It was a cold, calculated restoration of order.

Amelia, her voice now hoarse from crying, looked up at the departing car with a mix of fury and fear. She felt like a character in a tragedy she didn't understand, while the man in the car had already moved on to his next move on the chessboard.

"Does he think money can fix everything?" she whispered into the silence, but the Maybach was already pulling away, leaving only the fading warmth of the sun behind.