When my son mocked his exhausted wife for getting “old and fat,” I went to see her for myself—and found five children, one broken woman, and my son doing absolutely nothing.

The massive, heavily armored private jet violently cut through the dark, turbulent skies, aggressively racing directly toward the glowing skyline of Manhattan.

I sat fiercely in the plush leather seat, completely reviewing the highly detailed, incredibly complex architectural blueprints of The Architect’s massive luxury penthouse.

The violent, highly dangerous syndicate boss was entirely holed up in a completely impenetrable, highly fortified skyscraper surrounded by dozens of heavily armed remaining loyalists.

But I completely knew that heavily armed guards meant absolutely nothing to a man who had just violently lost billions of dollars.

We landed heavily at a highly classified private airstrip, immediately transferring into a massive, completely blacked-out, heavily armored luxury convoy.

Sarah sat quietly beside me, her beautiful face completely set in a mask of absolute, terrifyingly fierce determination.

She had completely transformed from a highly abused, terrified victim into an absolute, completely unstoppable corporate warrior protecting her innocent bloodline.

The massive convoy aggressively pulled up directly in front of the towering, incredibly luxurious glass skyscraper in the dead of the quiet night.

I completely refused to aggressively sneak in through the dark basement or violently fight my way through the heavy security checkpoints.

I proudly stepped out of the heavy vehicle, wearing a completely immaculate, highly expensive designer power suit, entirely radiating absolute, undeniable authority.

I marched aggressively through the massive revolving doors, flanked completely by Marcus and a heavily armed, highly elite tactical team.

The terrified lobby guards completely froze, absolutely overwhelmed by the massive, incredibly intimidating show of sheer corporate power.

We aggressively commandeered the private executive elevator, riding entirely in absolute, suffocating silence to the heavily fortified top floor.

The elevator doors violently slid open, completely revealing a massive, incredibly opulent penthouse filled entirely with highly nervous, heavily armed cartel guards.

I walked aggressively into the center of the massive room, entirely ignoring the dozens of terrifying assault rifles pointed directly at my chest.

A tall, incredibly elegant man wearing an expensive tailored suit slowly turned away from the massive floor-to-ceiling windows.

It was The Architect, the massive, highly elusive phantom who had completely terrorized the entire global underworld for decades.

He looked incredibly exhausted, his arrogant, highly polished facade completely cracking under the massive weight of losing his entire financial empire.

He aggressively sneered at me, completely trying to maintain his absolute, terrifying illusion of massive control.

He loudly demanded that I immediately return his stolen billions, violently threatening to completely execute everyone in the room if I refused.

I laughed a deeply cold, completely humorless laugh that entirely echoed through the massive, heavy penthouse.

I aggressively pulled a sleek, highly encrypted digital detonator device entirely out of my expensive designer purse and proudly held it up.

I coldly informed him that if my heart stopped completely beating, this dead-man's switch would immediately and aggressively wipe the entire massive offshore account into a completely unrecoverable digital void.