“She didn’t say her name, but it is Megan White. You know, the popular Megan White. Should I let her in? I mean, she is attracting crowd in my hospital, everyone wants to take a picture with her.” the doctor said. Alex immediately adjusted his lying position. He quickly sat up. “Did you say Megan White?” he asked. This did not sound good. Alex's mind raced. Emma—Megan, as he knew her—had disappeared without a trace for weeks. He remembered Mr. Frost’s ominous warning: if anything happened to her, he would pay dearly. His chest tightened as he tried to make sense of it. How had she reappeared? Why now? Where had she been? What would she do to him? He really made no single effort in searching for him. Loulou noticed the sudden tension in his face. “What’s wrong, Alex? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Alex forced a dismissive smile, though his heart pounded fiercely. "Nothing, Mother. Just... unexpected." The doctor, sensing the odd shift in the atmosphere, tilted his head in c

Loulou, watching closely, didn’t miss the subtle exchange between the two. Her eyes narrowed, but her smile never faltered. She had a way of reading people, of seeing through their facades. This woman, Megan—or whoever she really was—wasn’t just a chance visitor. There was more to her story, and Loulou wasn’t the type to let things slide. If this was some game, she would play it to win. But Megan’s reason actually sounded genuine, judging from the paleness of her eyes which was an unusual trait. “Oh, what a relief!” Loulou exclaimed, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she made her way to the sofa. “A model and a real estate agent, hmm? Alex, you certainly know how to pick your women.” Alex shot his mother a pointed look. "Mom, can we not—" Megan interrupted smoothly, “It’s fine. You know, it’s not easy being in the public eye. People expect perfection, and sometimes that means we have to disappear for a while, to heal... to come back stronger.” She glanced at Alex with a knowing l

Megan could see the ambition burning in Cozbi’s eyes, the desire to claw her way to the top no matter the cost. It was almost laughable. Almost. She couldn’t allow Cozbi to fall into her own trap. No, Megan needed Cozbi to believe she was on her side, to think that her ambition was just a small thing in the grand game. "Well," Megan said, her voice cool but laced with the weight of experience, "I don’t doubt that you have the drive. But you have to be very careful who you’re targeting. There’s more at play here than you realize. Mr. Frost doesn’t just hold power—he holds all the cards. And someone like you, Cozbi... well, you wouldn’t want to be caught in the crossfire, would you?" Cozbi’s smile tightened, but Megan could see the wariness creeping into her eyes. She had her attention. Megan wasn’t backing down, but she was playing the part—planting the seed of doubt. After all, she wasn’t about to let Cozbi ruin everything she’d worked for. Cozbi straightened, eyes glinting with

“It is a wonderful day, friends and family. We have every cause to rejoice and celebrate.” Mr. Donald raised his glass up, letting the light from the chandelier bounce on the golden cup. The whole family and friends were there. The Davenport family, Donald and his son Charles who was as mute as the silence in his head, Mr. Hearst and his family, including his daughter whom he wedded out to the Hearst family. It was a huge table and food was spread across the extremely large table. It was a grand celebration. The downfall of Nathan was not an easy task. It took years for this feat to be accomplished. For Mr. Donald, it was a really huge triumph, one he had been planning for years. Ever since Nathan was ruling the Reed Empire many many years ago, Donald had always seen Nathan as an insurmountable obstacle. From a young age, even in college days, Nathan was a pain in his ass. A really horrible pain. Nathan wasn’t just a ruler of an empire; he was a force, someone who turned chal

Leon's detachment was not a defense mechanism; it was a deliberate choice. Feelings were liabilities, vulnerabilities that could be exploited. His father, Samuel, had taught him that much. The world didn’t care for softness or sentiment, so Leon had eradicated them, one painful layer at a time, until only the cold, calculating shell remained. Yet, as Leon's sharp eyes lingered on Charles, a flicker of curiosity broke through his indifference. Charles was different from the usual players in these games of power and dominance. There was a rawness to him, a defiance that refused to die despite his shattered state. Leon could see it in the clenched fists at Charles's sides, the way his eyes darted between his father and the Langfords, searching for some shred of dignity in this public humiliation. "Donald," Samuel began, his voice smooth yet razor-edged. "I see your family affairs are as colorful as ever. A shame, really. But I’m not here for entertainment." Donald straightened, the b