Chapter 307

Midnight.

Maxwell dialed Preston's number. "You let Olivia go?" His voice was tight with barely contained fury.

"My brother called. Said to release her immediately." Preston's words slurred slightly from exhaustion. "Couldn't disobey him. Don't worry though - got her compromising photos. Just say the word if you need them."

"Whatever. We'll talk later." Maxwell ended the call abruptly, crushing the phone in his grip.

Olivia had been his crucial bargaining chip against Evelyn. Now that leverage was gone, his control over the situation slipping through his fingers.

Dominic's relentless attacks on their family business felt like a personal vendetta. The Blackwood Group was systematically dismantling Lockwood Corporation brick by brick. The pressure was unbearable.

Just as he tossed his phone aside, it rang again.

Frederick Lockwood's name flashed on the screen. Maxwell's jaw clenched. Nothing good ever came from his father's calls.

The ringing persisted.

With a resigned sigh, he answered. "Yes, Father?"

"You worthless brat! How much more trouble will you bring upon us?" Frederick's roar vibrated through the receiver. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Challenging Dominic Blackwood? The man shows no mercy in business!"

"Why do you always blame me?" Maxwell snapped. "He's the one at fault here!"

Frederick's breathing grew labored. "I only discovered why we're under attack today. Dominic made it crystal clear - this is about that Sinclair woman. Can't you think beyond your selfish desires? Must you wage war over some girl?"

"You've got it backwards, Father. I'm not starting this fight. He's stealing what's rightfully mine. My marriage to Evelyn is legally binding. Dominic's the homewrecker here. Tell me, who's really in the wrong?"

"Just stop this madness, son! You're outmatched. Listen to me - divorce Evelyn. You're young, you'll find someone better. If Dominic wants her, let him have her." Frederick's voice broke. "Must you watch everything I've built over thirty years crumble to dust?"

In the Lockwood mansion's cavernous living room, Frederick collapsed onto a sofa, suddenly looking a decade older. Lorraine sighed beside him.

The air hung heavy with despair.

Frederick's gaze drifted to the family portrait. His handsome son had always been willful, but obedient when it mattered. Now grown, the boy had become a stranger - reckless, uncontrollable.

This stubborn arrogance would be Maxwell's undoing.

"Don't worry about me, Father. I'll handle everything - the company included. I'm busy now. Goodbye." The line went dead before Frederick could respond.

Frederick nearly collapsed from rage.

He turned on Lorraine. "This is your doing! How you raised him! I've been cleaning up his messes since childhood. Now our company faces ruin because of him. Your coddling made him this way!"

Lorraine's eyes flashed with fury. She jabbed a finger at her husband. "How dare you, Frederick Lockwood! I spoiled him? And you're blameless? If not for your—"

Her tirade continued, accusations flying. The scene descended into chaos - Lorraine shrieking insults, hurling objects. Frederick finally stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving his wife sobbing on the floor.

A maid timidly helped Lorraine up.

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit apartment, a disheveled young man hunched over his keyboard. Gideon Whitmore's fingers flew across the keys as he navigated the dark web's periphery.

"Strange... where'd all my posts go?" he muttered.

Every attempt to locate his client's commissioned content failed. Search terms yielded nothing. Either his connection dropped, or legal block notifications appeared.

Gideon was no ordinary blogger. A self-taught hacker, he'd infiltrated police networks undetected. That technical prowess made him Maxwell's perfect digital mercenary.

But now, for the first time, sweat beaded on Gideon's forehead. His posts had vanished without a trace. His pulse raced with growing dread.

He wasn't superstitious, yet an ominous feeling settled in his gut.

Opening his notes, he prepared to repost on Reddit. But even his custom backdoor programs failed. The system rejected every attempt.

Gideon's hands trembled. "What the hell is happening?"

His phone rang. Maxwell's name appeared.

"What kind of amateur operation are you running?" Maxwell's voice crackled with fury. "You boasted about being some elite hacker-writer hybrid. Now all your work disappears in days? Pathetic, Gideon!"

Gideon paled. This was beyond his control.

"Relax, man. I'll figure it out—"

CRASH!

His door exploded inward, sending Gideon tumbling from his chair.

"Who— what— robbery?" he stammered, staring at the armed police swarming his apartment.

"Freeze! Police!"

Gideon's arms shot up. He nearly soiled himself.

A stone-faced officer flashed his badge. "You're under arrest for cybercrimes. Come quietly."

Beep... beep... beep...

The line went dead in Maxwell's hand. Only static remained.

His stomach dropped. Eyes narrowing dangerously, he crushed his cigarette against the ashtray, ignoring the burn on his fingers.