In Blumedale, the Rhodes family's patriarch was pacing inside his villa, furious and restless. "Damn it! It's been a whole day already—did that bastard Phantom Eye take the money and run?"

No calls were going through, and no one could reach him.

At first, Kenny was confident in Phantom Eye. However, as time passed, that confidence turned into gnawing anxiety. Every second wasted meant Michael was one step closer to death.

"Dad, calm down," a woman said smoothly, her voice carrying an air of superiority. "Michael will be fine."

She was Sherilyn Rhodes, Kenny's eldest daughter. Her presence alone screamed wealth and power—long, deep-red nails, bold red lips, and cascading waves of glossy hair. From head to toe, she radiated the energy of a woman who knew she was above everyone else.

Kenny gritted his teeth. "How the hell am I supposed to calm down? You didn't see how bad Michael looked! He's barely holding on! And from what I heard, h-hhe might have lost his manhood. Do you und