The door swung open with a thud. “Enough!” Marcus’s voice boomed through the room. In two long strides, he reached his sister and yanked the bowl from her grip before it could be thrown. The maid dropped the tray with a clatter and scurried out the door, tears already welling in her eyes. Marcus’s face was stone cold. “What the hell is wrong with you, Agnes?” Agnes was panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly. But before she could reply, Marcus raised his hand and slapped her. The sharp crack echoed in the silence that followed. Agnes froze. Her hand instinctively flew to her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief. Then, slowly, her lips trembled, and tears streamed down her face. “You hit me...” “You’re losing yourself,” Marcus said, his voice softer now. “This isn’t you.” “I hate everyone,” Agnes whispered, her words cracking as she sank onto the edge of the bed. “They all hate me too.” Marcus knelt down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. She

The rooftop restaurant glimmered against the dark New York skyline, its crystal walls glowing like a crown above the city. Keith’s Mercedes pulled up first, sleek and polished, catching the attention of the valet who quickly rushed to open the door. Keith stepped out, straightening the cuffs of his black tailored suit. He scanned the entrance, noting the subtle placement of two plainclothes guards by the marble steps, Bella’s men, no doubt.He gave a slight nod to one of his own men stationed across the street, a quiet signal of confirmation. As if on cue, a black Jeep pulled up behind his car. The moment Bella stepped out, the murmurs started, just faint enough to be ignored, but loud enough to register.A couple sitting by the glass entrance turned, recognizing her instantly. Dressed in a form-fitting navy gown that shimmered under the overhead lights, Bella walked with poise, every step is deliberate. Her hair was styled in a vintage wave that fell elegantly over her shoulder, an

Marcus exited the study with clenched fists, the coldness in his gait evident in each step as the oak doors shut behind him. Harry’s final order still echoed in his ears.“Prepare her for marriage. The deal is sealed.” The flicker of the chandelier above did little to warm the storm boiling in his chest. His pace quickened through the marble hallway, each portrait of the Hades legacy watching him in silence, as if mocking the futility of resisting the family’s will.He moved through the estate like a ghost, the night air from an open balcony brushing against his skin. He paused there, leaning on the railing. The city’s lights blinked in the distance, but none of it soothed him. Memories came uninvited—the way his mother used to sit in this very spot, eyes dimmed by the life Harry drained from her with expectations and betrayals disguised as duty. He had been too young to fight for her then. But now, watching Agnes walk down the same path, shackled by the same chains, was a pain too

The corridor was dimly lit, a long stretch of polished marble that reflected the morning light peeking through ornate windows. Marcus Hades stood at the end of the hall, watching as the representative for the Australian family sipped from a crystal glass and looked through a painting on the wall. He moved with the kind of careless entitlement Marcus had seen far too often, men who thought money and foreign power gave them the right to anything. He approached silently, his shoes barely making a sound. "You spoke with my sister.” Marcus began, his voice low but firm. The man turned slowly, offering a measured smile. "We exchanged pleasantries. She’s quite charming." Marcus tilted his head, a polite mask concealing the fire behind his eyes. "Let’s make one thing clear: she’s not damaged goods. If your people think they can treat her like a problem to fix or hide, we’ll walk. This alliance ends." The man chuckled lightly, almost with pity. "It’s not your decision anymore, Mr. Hades.

The morning sunlight cut through the curtainslike an interrogation lamp. Claire Wades sat in the kitchen, sipping lukewarm tea while her eyes followed the stiff silhouette of Justin across the room. He hadn’t said more thanfive words to her since the night before. His jaw was locked, expression unreadable, andhis phone is always face down now, buzzing too often for comfort “Are you going to tell me what’s going on, orDo I have to guess again?” Claire asked,voice quiet but sharp. Justin paused at the sink, pretending to rinsea mug that didn’t need rinsing. “It’s just work. You don’t need to worry about it.”“That’s not an answer.” Claire stood, arms crossed. “You’ve been acting strange eversince that meeting. You barely looked me in the eye last night.”Justin turned slowly, his eyes flicking over her, measuring. “Claire… sometimes thingsget complicated. You need to trust me.”She stepped closer. “I’ve trusted you since the day you asked me to believe in your vision. I gave up