In the heart of City S, perched above the skyline on the 88th floor of the prestigious Tianxia International Tower, the world's richest wolves prowled behind designer suits and mirrored office windows. At the center of it all sat Ji Yanluo — a name that made seasoned investors tremble, politicians tread lightly, and enemies vanish without a trace.
He sat behind a sleek black desk, papers arranged with surgical precision, long fingers flipping through a confidential merger proposal that had kept two global corporations dancing on edge for weeks. His black shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, did nothing to soften the lethal sharpness of his aura. His expression, carved from ice, rarely changed. Not even victory stirred him.
But today, there was... a ripple.
"President Ji," said a cautious voice.
It was Han Su, his personal assistant of six years. He knocked once before entering, tablet in hand, sweat beading at his temple—not from fear, but from the weight of the news he carried.
Ji Yanluo didn't look up. "Speak."
Han Su cleared his throat. "She's out. Bai Zhiqi."
The pen in Ji Yanluo's hand paused mid-signature.
He didn't raise his head, but something in the air shifted. The atmosphere turned razor-sharp. Colder.
Han Su gulped. "She was released early this morning from Huaiyin Women's Prison. No one picked her up. There was no media coverage. Quiet release. The Bais didn't even show."
Still, no reaction. No flicker. Just silence.
Han Su adjusted his glasses. "Would you like her monitored?"
Ji Yanluo finally lifted his gaze. His obsidian eyes, dark and unreadable, met Han Su's with a chilling stillness. His voice, when it came, was low and absolute.
"There's no need."
Han Su blinked. "Sir?"
Ji Yanluo leaned back, eyes narrowing. "If she intends to disappear, she would've done it already. But she walked out of those gates with her chin held high, didn't she?"
Han Su hesitated. "Yes... the guards mentioned it."
A ghost of a smile curled on Ji Yanluo's lips. Dangerous. Knowing.
"She didn't survive five years to hide now."
Han Su dared another question. "Do you wish to contact her?"
Ji Yanluo picked up the pen again. "No."
He signed the contract with a swift flick.
"She'll come to me."
That was it. No explanation. No interest in elaborating.
Han Su bowed and turned to leave, but paused at the door. "Sir… if I may. Everyone thought she'd be broken after five years. That she wouldn't recover."
Ji Yanluo looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows, expression unreadable.
"She's not everyone," he said. "She's mine."
The door shut softly behind Han Su, leaving Ji Yanluo alone in the silence of glass and sky.
But his fingers, resting on the desk, curled slightly.
She was out.
And the game had finally begun.