When Ace Kane drove back to the company, the sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the parking lot. He walked through the entrance with his hands casually in his pockets, his steps unhurried, his expression relaxed.
But inside the office?
The moment he passed by, voices rose—each one calling out with genuine respect.
“Mr. Kane.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Kane.”
“Hello, Mr. Kane.”
Not forced.
Not superficial.
This was the kind of respect that came from the heart—fear mixed with admiration, awe mixed with anticipation. The type of greeting a man received only when everyone realized he wasn’t someone they could afford to cross.
A few hours ago, many of these people still thought he was the weak, silent guy who never fought back.
Now?
He’d slapped the entire company awake.
He
