The fact that Lucien and Calum hadn't bothered to avoid him while discussing Damian was already a message in itself. Silas didn't respond to Alaric. He simply stood up and headed straight to Lucien's room to keep an eye on him. No sooner had he stepped inside than his device buzzed. A message from Corvin lit up the screen. 'Silas, I want to help Damian. Do you have any idea how I can do that?' Corvin tossed on his bed, restless and unable to sleep. He was conflicted. Damian had once lent him a huge sum of money. That favor was still hanging over his head. Back then, neither of them had been matched with Emma yet. Now that Damian was in trouble, he wanted to help, but business wasn't his battlefield. His expertise lay in designing mechas and warships, not maneuvering through markets or investments. The financial side of the lab had always been his older brother's responsibility. Corvin spent his days entirely focused on engineering and development. He'd sought his brother's advice on how to back Damian, but all they could offer was cash; anything beyond that was impossible. And after hearing Lucien and Calum's discussion today, Corvin grew even more uneasy. If Damian surrendered sixty percent of his profits and still had to pay his employees, wouldn't he be left with almost nothing? Silas stared at Corvin's message for a moment. He hadn't intended to reply, but he knew Corvin well enough—if he didn't, Corvin would be up all night worrying. After a brief pause, Silas finally sent a response. 'Damian is far better at business than you. If he's willing to give up that much profit, he must have his own strategy. This isn't necessarily a bad thing for him. His affairs aren't something you should be losing sleep over. If you have time to worry, focus on finishing your orders faster. That way you'll have more time to spend with Emma.' Many people were watching Damian, but few dared to make a move. In truth, only Lucien and Calum were bold enough to ignore what the Empire's upper ranks might think. … The next morning… Emma had barely woken up when she heard angry shouting echoing from the starrail's living room. "What's going on out there?" She turned to Edric, who had just walked in from outside. "Did they wake you?" he asked. Emma shook her head. "No, I was already awake when I heard it." It was probably Calum who had been blocking out the noise with his mental power. He must have lifted it the moment he realized she was awake. Edric laughed. "I have no idea what Calum's up to. The Empire's higher-ups have been calling him nonstop since early morning. Every one of them is bouncing off the walls." Emma's eyes lit up. "So there's drama?""What?" He hadn't caught her whisper. Emma quickly snatched the clothes from his hands and slipped them on. Grabbing his hand, she headed for the door. "Come on. Let's see what happened." The moment they stepped out of the bedroom, an oppressive wave of pressure hit her head-on. The living room was flooded with overlapping lights. Several lifelike holo-monitors hovered around Calum, who was lounging on the couch like he owned the place. Every holo-monitor projected a middle-aged male dressed in formal regalia, badges gleaming sharply under the virtual light. They were clearly high-ranking figures in the Empire. Every one of them looked ready to explode. "Calum!" A five-star officer practically roared into his face. "What do you think you're doing? NexusPrime Tech is one of our key industries. And you—how dare you force your way in and take a stake using such disgraceful tactics? Do you even care about the Empire? Do you still respect any of us?" Before he could finish, a middle-aged man in a government uniform, his hair perfectly slicked back, jumped in. His voice was sharp enough to cut through the air. "Calum, have you lost your mind? We've supported NexusPrime Tech from the very beginning, helped it grow and stand on its own, and you just stroll in like it's yours. Are you trying to pick a fight with us?" Calum didn't even flinch. He leaned back, legs crossed, a steaming cup of tea in hand, as if the storm of anger around him were nothing more than a gentle breeze. He blew lightly across the rim of his cup before lifting his gaze, a cold amusement glinting under his lashes. "Pick a fight? With you?" he said softly. "You're not even qualified." Calum's voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the air like a blade dipped in ice. The living room felt colder with every word. His gaze swept lazily across the furious projections, his smile carrying nothing but contempt. "NexusPrime Tech was built by Damian himself. Your so-called support was just an excuse—you saw his talent and the company's potential. You fed him empty promises while planting your own people like parasites, waiting for the day you could gut his work and take everything for yourselves." He set his teacup down with a sharp clink that echoed like a hammer striking each of their hearts. "And you call that support? Please. Your methods make mine look spotless. At least I'm honest. I want money—nothing else. I don't meddle in his decisions. He gets total freedom…"