The Almighty Dominance (by Sunshine) novel Chapter 451

“Look at you,” Marlene said coldly. “So arrogant, so blind to your place in this world. Now, you haven’t just offended the important people. You’ve offended me too.”

“So what!” Nikolaus snapped. “You have to return every contract with the Krugers, or we’ll sue.”

“What if I don’t?” Marlene asked, calm and dangerous.

“Then you’ll watch the Eden Group get torn apart by the Krugers.” Nikolaus’s pride flared; he refused to look small in front of Annabella.

Marlene smiled like a razor. “Fine. You go your way. I’ll go mine. Let’s see which one of us ends up destroyed today.”

Annabella exploded. “Who do you think you are, bitch? The Krugers built Eden up—do you forget that? You want to kick them out now? Let’s see who falls because of that. Nikolaus, sue her. Make them pay for breaching the contract. Let them go bankrupt!”

Nikolaus pressed his bracelet, voice cold. “You’d better change your mind before it’s too late.”

“I’ll warn you the same,” Marlene said, fingers on her own bracelet. “If you sue us, you make an enemy of Eden Group. We’ll see who survives.”

“Nikolaus, this woman’s insufferable—let’s punish her!” Annabella cried.

“You leave me no choice.” Nikolaus tapped his bracelet and dialed. “I want to file an official complaint with the government business ethics board. Eden Group is unilaterally cutting ties with the Krugers. That’s going to cause massive material loss. I want to pursue litigation.”

Marlene snorted, palm flat against her bracelet. “Olivia—announce it now. Eden Group severs all ties with the Krugers. Notify every partner: anyone still connected to the Krugers after twenty-four hours is barred from working with us. Cancel their contracts on sight. From this moment on, they’re our enemy.”

Annabella curled her lip. “You think that intimidates Nikolaus? You don’t understand how big the Kruger family is. Nikolaus—sue them for a billion. Let’s bury them. We will burn this Eden Group to the ground.”

Nikolaus went white. “You—Eden Group—this is impossible. Just wait until I sue. I swear you’ll come crawling back, begging me to drop it.”

“Keep dreaming,” Marlene said, ice in her voice.

“You’ll regret this! You don’t know what my fiancé capable of,” Annabella spat, venomous.

At that moment Nikolaus’s bracelet chimed. He fumbled for it. “Here come the results. You’re dead, Eden Group!” he crowed before the screen even loaded.

The projected report blinked into life on the holo—crisp, official, merciless. “You are unable to sue Eden Group for terminating the collaboration. Per the renewal clause signed last year, Eden may unilaterally end the partnership without penalty.”

“What?” Nikolaus barked. “This—this can’t be. We would never sign that.”

The artificial voice in the bracelet was calm and final. “Scanning complete. Here is the scanned copy of your contract, including the clause and its fine print. It is present and valid.”

Nikolaus stared as the clause glared back at him in microprint. His mouth moved but no sound came.

How had he missed this? How had Eden pushed such a clause through during renewal, while both parties were profiting?

Marlene laughed—a sharp, knowing sound. She had learned to write contracts in a way that left no room for loss, not even a fraction. She’d grown up in the dark corners of business deals, surviving on instinct and cunning.

Every clause, every signature—she turned them into armor. She wasn’t just a negotiator. She was a survivor.

“Guards,” Marlene called, voice flat. “Eden Group has declared the Kruger family persona non grata. Remove him and his—companion. They don’t belong here.”

Two security androids snapped to attention. They moved like machines should—efficient, unhesitating. One stepped forward, seized Nikolaus’s wrist and wrenched it back until the joint protested.

Pain flashed across his face. He tried to pull free; the android tightened, clinical and implacable.

The security androids seized Annabella before she could take another step.

“You—how dare you! Do you know who I am?” she screamed, voice slicing through the air.

The android didn’t care. With cold, mechanical precision, it slammed her to the floor when she tried to resist. Her scream echoed through the marble hall, sharp and desperate, as the machines dragged both her and Nikolaus toward the entrance like discarded trash.

Nikolaus and Annabella didn’t know whether to laugh or hate him. Gardening was the lowest rung at a corporation that ran on machines—planting and tending were left to humans, usually immigrants or half-slaves.

The job was supposed to be humiliation, not triumph.

Annabella’s smile cut like a blade. “That suit fits you—like it was made for a half-slave. Don’t get cocky about it.”

He pointed to a sleek, expensive craft gliding into a parking bay. It shone like a coin in sunlight. Nikolaus’s heart thudded when he saw it—his car, unmistakable.

“Keep dreaming,” Nikolaus muttered, too tired to argue. He needed to tell his father what had happened—not trade barbs with a gardener.

He walked to the car, bracelet already probing for the connection. The usual sync didn’t happen. The screen on his wrist blinked and a calm, official voice answered instead.

“Please step away from this vehicle. This is not your car. Continued attempts to access it will trigger a report to local authorities.”

“Stealing?” Nikolaus choked, staring at the screen. Annabella’s face went pale beside him.

Nikolaus scowled, his patience snapping. “Open the door. This is my car.”

The vehicle’s system responded in a cold, mechanical voice, “Identity mismatch. This is not your registered vehicle. You have been warned twice. A third attempt will notify law enforcement.”

Nikolaus froze, his pulse hammering.

Alex leaned against the car, arms crossed, grinning wide. “Told you,” he said with a mocking laugh. “This beauty’s mine now. Didn’t believe me, huh? Remember our little bet?”

He tapped the side of the car like it was a trophy. “Guess you’ll be walking home tonight.”