The Price of Blood

That dying message between brothers—so full of devotion and despair—pierced through millions of hearts. In the live broadcast, Aidan's trembling voice became the nation's tragedy. Within moments, the comment section exploded.

'God, this is unbearable! The brother is begging for his life while the other just sits in jail doing nothing!'

'Lucas is a monster! That's your brother, for God's sake!'

'How did someone like him ever become a chief engineer? Investigate him!'

'Go save him! It'll be too late if you don't move now!'

The insults and accusations came like a tidal wave, drowning me completely. And right at the crest of that public outrage, my stepmother, Claudia, made her move.

With a dramatic thud, she dropped to her knees again—not to me this time, but in front of the reporters who had gathered outside the detention center. She wept with perfect anguish, her voice cracking between sobs. "Please, Lucas… if you'll just save Aidan… I'll make him give up all his inheritance from the Sullivan family. Everything! It'll all go to you!"

As she spoke, she pulled a folded document from her bag—a Property Renunciation Agreement already prepared in advance. Aidan's signature was right there, waiting for me to accept.

It was a flawless performance, turning herself into a grieving mother willing to give up everything for her son's life.

I looked at her and smiled. Amid everyone's stunned silence, I said softly, "All right."

Claudia froze, clearly not expecting me to agree so easily.

I lifted a finger, beckoning. "Bring it here. Let me take a look."

She hesitated, then slid the papers through the narrow gap in the bars. I took them, glanced over the pages, and nodded approvingly. "Looks sincere enough."

Joy flickered in her eyes. "You… You'll go now?" she asked eagerly.

I set the document down on the table and leaned back against the wall, my tone casual. "I said I'd consider it. Didn't say when."

Her smile froze in place. "You… You're toying with me?!"

I closed my eyes, done with the conversation.

…

Another half hour passed. Every second was torture for those trapped beneath the sea—and for Theron as well. Finally, he played his last card.

He walked up to the bars, glaring at me with bloodshot eyes, and forced out the words through clenched teeth. "Lucas. If you go now—if you save your brother—I'll give you 60% of Sullivan Group's shares."

Sullivan Group—the billion-dollar empire my mother had built from the ground up. Sixty percent control meant absolute power.

…

Within minutes, Sullivan Group's top legal team arrived at the detention center with a thick folder of share transfer papers. I looked at the neatly printed documents, the staggering figures, the promise of everything I could've ever owned. I picked up the pen.

But just as the tip of the pen touched the paper, a burst of excited shouting came from the live broadcast.

"They've connected! The remote signal's online!"

"Chief Zimri did it—she actually did it!"

"The rescue's back on track!"

I smiled. They had no idea they'd just fallen perfectly into the trap I'd set for them.