That morning, Daxon Mansion was already busy again starting at seven o’clock. Sunlight streamed through the large windows of the study, reflecting off the dark wooden desk covered with files.

Gevan sat in his chair, his face still looking tired. His head was no longer throbbing like the night before, but his mood remained foul. Sleeping for a few hours was not enough to drive away the chaos in his mind.

He loosened his tie, then let out a long breath.

“An annoying morning,” he muttered.

His eyes glanced at the stack of documents on the right side of the desk. Thick. Many. All waiting for his signature.

He closed...