For Davis, leaving Noveria and returning to Country Y wasn’t merely a journey and wasn’t just a casual decision.
It was a declaration. He had a mission, and this time, it wasn’t about watching from the sidelines while fate and his enemies played god with his destiny.
He was taking back the reins. He will no longer sit on the fence to watch himself lose his soul anymore, not to anyone, not to any
With the successful reclamation of his company in Noveria, the next battleground was Country Y so that everything else will fall in line.
Everything that had gone wrong needed to be corrected. Every pawn set in motion against him had to be unmasked. And every injustice done in his name would be brought to light.
During the ten-hour flight, there was no rest. Davis, his wife, with his assistant never once treated the plane like a place of rest.
The cabin of the private jet had been transformed into a mobile war room. The mahogany table aboard the jet became their war desk.
Around the mahogany table, Davis, Jessica and Ethan were buried deep in work. Documents sprawled for review, data cross-checked and decrypted, secrets unearthed and reports cross-referenced.
They worked tirelessly, determined to establish solid groundwork.
Their objective was singular and sharp—to uncover the trail of financial crimes that had run rampant in his absence. From embezzlement to misappropriation of funds, from unauthorized projects to data manipulation, nothing was off-limits.
It was an overwhelming task, but Jessica’s earlier foresight had made the process smoother. Jessica had already set the stage months before.
In the early days of her marriage to Davis, she had with quiet precision, planted reliable and highly skilled subordinates within key branches of the company.
On the surface, they looked like ordinary hires—new blood brought in to fill the ranks. But in truth, they were operatives trained to observe, collect, and silently rise through the ranks.
Over the past year, they had integrated seamlessly blending in as regular staff.
She had chosen capable hands and subtly moved them into key administrative roles, giving them unrestricted access to sensitive company intel.
Their positions now spanned every department—accounting, R&D, marketing, HR. Bit by bit, Jessica had maneuvered them into roles with the highest possible clearance.
"Begin with departmental breakdowns," Davis had instructed as the plane ascended.
Each report was presented with clarity.
From personnel records filled with discrepancies to marketing budgets that bore no logical correlation with campaign outcomes. Even the R&D division, typically overlooked, held secrets that made Davis’s blood run cold.
"You might want to take a look at this," Jessica had said, angling her screen toward him. "It seems the R&D department has been quietly reintegrating a previously scrapped project into the budget."
Davis moved closer, brows furrowed as he examined the file. The project, a biotech initiative deemed too dangerous and unethical, was one he had personally shut down long before his accident. Its reappearance now was more than troubling.
His jaw clenched. "I canceled this project. Its societal implications were catastrophic. Who authorized this?"
Jessica shook her head. "We’re still tracing the approval chain, but it seems to be for a financial purpose"
As reports poured in, details unfolded with such precision that even Ethan was left speechless, imagining the chaos if an enemy company had placed such skilled spies instead.
He wondered if Desmond had ever bothered to regulate staff from leaking internal secrets.
Davis hadn’t expected to receive such an overwhelming load of information in just one day. Though surprised, he deeply admired Jessica’s strategic foresight.
Ethan was visibly unsettled. "If someone from another company had planted operatives , we’d be finished. I can’t believe Desmond let things slip so far."
Davis didn’t respond immediately. His thoughts were already running ahead—considering outcomes, implications, and strategies.
The volume and depth of corruption surprised even him. He had expected resistance, but not this widespread rot. And yet, thanks to Jessica, their counterattack already had teeth.
For ten long hours, the plane was a hive of activity. Files flew across screens, voices cutting through silence as each report is analyzed, and bit by bit, the fog around the company’s situation in the hand of Desmond was cleared.
By the time they landed, the group was running on sheer determination and tiredness.
At Country Y’s international airport, the private tarmac had already been secured. Davis was assisted into his wheelchair. Jessica followed, her face calm but her eyes betraying exhaustion. Behind her trailed Ethan and Deborah, equally drained.
They exited through the VIP private passage, where Richard and the shadow guard team stood waiting. The guards snapped into formation instantly.
Jessica’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and answered quickly. A voice from the other end updated her on Desmond’s latest moves. Jessica inhaled sharply, issued a few instructions and ended the call.
With swift efficiency, the guards guided Davis and Jessica to one vehicle while Ethan and Deborah were ushered into another.
As the engines roared to life, Deborah stared out the window, her thoughts tangled. She hadn’t expected this level of organization and power. She had underestimated them.
The drive to Jessica’s mansion was smooth and tightly secured.
On arrival, rows of maids and guards stood in position to welcome them. The sight drew a soft sigh from Deborah. "The world of the rich was truly another realm."
"Please assign her a room near mine," Jessica instructed Richard, massaging her throbbing forehead.
Richard nodded and gestured for a maid to escort Deborah.
Jessica winced, pressing her fingers to her temple. Her head throbbed from the accumulated stress and lack of rest.
"You worked all through the flight?" Richard asked, observing her drawn features.
She looked away, not ready to be chided. "Just a little. I couldn’t sleep."
As she tried to help Davis inside, he looked at her, his expression laced with guilt. He stopped her gently. "You’ve done enough. Let me manage this."
He opened the door and gestured for her to go in first.
Jessica entered their room, her shoulders sagging in relief. The familiar scent, the soft lighting, the warm hues—it all welcomed her like a comforting embrace.
Had they not spent the last days in their bungalow in Noveria, she would have said there’s no place like home.
Behind her, a maid entered quietly and placed their luggage neatly by the side.
Davis closed the door, then slowly stood. He was beginning to resent the wheelchair. Though a temporary crutch, it felt like a shackle. But he reminded himself that walking again—something he never thought possible—was now within reach.
Jessica collapsed on the bed, her eyes already shutting.
"Babe, take a bath first," Davis said gently.
"Later," she mumbled. "Just five minutes."
"You won’t sleep well ," he tried again.
She didn’t respond. Her breathing slowed. She was already asleep.
Davis watched her for a moment, then quietly walked to the bathroom. He filled a basin with warm water and brought a towel.
Returning, he gently wiped her face, arms, and legs, taking care not to wake her. The action stirred memories—of the early days after his recovery from the accident, living in the study he had done the same since he wouldn’t bath.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. Life had come full circle.
Once she was comfortable, he adjusted the air conditioning, took a quick bath, and slipped into bed beside her to catch a quick sleep before paying a visit to the captured culprits locked in the dungeon.