"Everyone, the star of tonight isn't me."
John Morgan stood at the center of the opulent banquet hall, crystal chandeliers glinting off his silver-streaked temples. He raised his glass, voice hoarse, "I'm just an old man discarded by time—exactly as you all say."
Laughter erupted from the crowd.
Ava sat in the VIP section, crimson lips curled, fingers tracing her champagne flute. "You abandoned your family twenty years ago. Now you're playing the devoted father?"
The eldest son sneered, "Father? We burned your photos long ago."
The second son added, "Heard you’re hauling cargo at the docks now. Should we donate some charity funds?"
The room exploded in mockery.
John offered no defense. Instead, he slowly removed his worn suit jacket, revealing a rusted pocket watch tucked inside.
"This watch stopped twenty years ago," he murmured. "But time… never forgets who its master is."
Suddenly, the lights cut out.
A massive screen flickered to life with a live-streamed video—
Security footage showed Ava slipping a stack of forged wills into a safe, muttering, "Once that old man dies, Morgan Group is ours."
A cold, clear voice echoed: "Mother, you forgot… I installed cameras."
Mia Morgan stepped onto the stage in sharp heels, her black dress like midnight, eyes cutting like blades.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she held up a shareholder certificate, "I am John Morgan’s sole legal heir—and the board’s secretly appointed new CEO."
Her gaze swept over Ava’s ashen face. "And you? You’ve never owned a single share. Your seat here was a mere invitation I granted."
Ava shot to her feet. "Impossible! You’re a bastard child—you have no right!"
"Right?" Mia laughed, flipping open the watch to reveal a DNA test result inside. "While Father was missing, I took over three companies on Wall Street for him. Tell me—who truly carries the Morgan blood?"
Chaos erupted.
John tried to step forward, only to be shoved to the ground. Amid shattering glass, he crawled toward the fallen watch.
Ava screamed and lunged—not to help him, but to seize it.
"It's mine! I put it in your pocket myself!"
But Mia reached it first.
She studied the dial, then whispered,
"The day you said 'I'll always belong to you,' you gave me this watch. But you never knew…"
She pressed a hidden switch. A chip ejected from the back. "Real control was never in your hands."
Silence swallowed the room.
A projection lit up—global account authorizations transferring—**MIA MORGAN: 100%**.
John slumped to the floor, staring at his daughter’s silhouette. "So… you knew all along."
Mia turned, knelt beside him, and placed the watch gently into his palm.
"Dad," she smiled, "it’s my turn to protect this name."
The camera pulled back.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Ava collapsed to her knees, screaming as security closed in.
Mia strode toward the edge of the stage and dialed a number:
"Initiate the operation. Eliminate all proxy holdings."
"Yes. Father’s last words—‘Don’t let family become enemies.’"
Curtain falls.
Only the ticking of the pocket watch echoes under the spotlight.
