“Oh, Brod…” He adjusted his cuffs with a casual ease that sent a shiver down Clara’s spine. “I didn’t think I won.” His gaze sharpened, pinning Brod in place like an insect under glass. “I know I have.” “And oh, about winning, that reminds me,” Frost looked around and turned to Deborah Spencer. “I think people who treat their daughters like tools for selfish interests should not be allowed to win.” He brought out his phone and made a brief phone call while everyone stared impatiently in silence, wondering who this man was and what that card was. As soon as Frost ended the brief call, the phone in Deborah’s hand began to ring, and then Charles’s phone also began to ring. They looked into each other’s eyes. Before they could both respond to their calls, the landline telephone began to scream aloud. Soon, all of the phones in their mansion began to ring loudly. “Mrs. Deborah, sorry, but we can no longer do business with you!” “Charles, I am sorry, man, but my firm is gonna have

If there was one person who knew the mansion better than everyone, it was Kamsi. She had studied every nuke and cranny of her godfather’s mansion, had the code to every door, and knew all the hidden passages. She walked with Charles following her. They were cautious, ensuring no one saw them. Kamsi was eager, eager to meet her brother. She never believed in fate or that a supernatural entity controlled her fate. She knew that her life was in her own hands, and she held the pen to write the story. And she had paused for a moment. What if she was writing from the wrong POV? What if there are underlying truths she had ignored? What if everything she believed about Nathan—about Mr. Frost—was wrong? She clenched her fists, pushing the thoughts away. No. He left me. He abandoned me. He let me suffer. That was the truth she had chosen to accept, and she would not waver now. Charles, walking behind her, noticed her hesitation. “Kamsi,” he whispered. “You sure about this?” She turned, he

“He is ready to see you now,” Beatrice said to them and led the way to Mr. Frost’s office. Megan and Cozbi walked into Mr. Frost’s billion-dollar furnished office, which was a golden needle in a haystack. No one had the privilege to see Mr. Frost in person, or, needlessly to say, see him in his office. Cozbi knew this, and she was shocked that Mr. Frost would accept her invitation to a business proposal. As soon as Cozbi walked in, her jaw dropped to the ground. She saw what appeared to be a vision or an office from a sci-fi movie scene. The mable floor tiles were a cloud blend of blue and white, blisteringly polished to perfection. One could see his own soul staring right back at him. It was a shiny floor. The types of furniture were beyond luxurious. Each piece of wood looked like it was crafted with a needle. The attention to detail was mesmerizing. Intricate sculptures were etched into the woods, and the cushions were perfectly tailored with zero errors. The modern chairs

“Coming here was the biggest privilege in my life. I have to thank you. Not so many men are kind enough to welcome me so kindly. Even if we don’t get to work together, we would make pretty good friends,” she said. Mr. Frost finally sighed. “Oh, stepmother. It is clear now. How you got my father to sleep with you. I guess some things never change, do they?” Cozbi paused for a moment. She had a hard time trying to figure out if she had gone deaf, mentally unstable, or fear had made her lose proper hearing, or whether it was all happening at once. Or perhaps she had gone mad. “Are you okay? You seem a bit lost, Cozbi.” Megan said from behind her, noticing the sudden unsease in her demeanour. Megan smirked. The moment of truth. “Yeah, I.. I am fine. I just thought I heard something. But it was just my brain messing with me. Thanks for asking,” said the woman, trying to regain composure. Mr. Frost then stood up. He'd had enough goofing around with this woman. He walked over to her an

“Hey.. hey! What are you doing here?” A voice called out, breaking through Kamsi’s scattered thoughts. Her eyes traced the source of the voice. It was from a security guard. Kamsi paused briefly, looking around in slight shock. Was she not just with her brother in his office? What happened? “I said what are you doing here and who are you?” asked the security guard again. Turns out Kamsi was only imagining the encounter. And what she imagined was not so pleasant. Her heart pounded as she took in her surroundings. She wasn’t in Mr. Frost’s office. She was still in the grand lobby of the facility, standing near the elevator, lost in her thoughts. Had she been daydreaming? No—more like trapped in a painful memory of what she feared would happen when she finally faced him. The security guard stepped closer, his hand hovering over his holster. He wasn’t just some low-level guard—this man had presence, authority. He wasn’t going to let her pass without a fight. “I asked you a quest