After the initial greetings, Clayton and Franciane were having fun at a table far from the Italian bar. Mark and Vargas occasionally looked at the couple, suspicious of their intentions. “Are we possibly looking at Aurelia’s next royal couple?” Vargas asked softly, taking a bite of arancini. “That’s what it looks like.” Mark smiled mischievously. “The guy didn’t waste any time, huh? He knows the Parliament would pressure him to find a wife to be our queen. Instead of risking being assigned an ugly, overweight wife, he already found a beauty that pleases him.” “Very well, let’s see what the future holds for us.” Vargas finished his drink. “Shall we go back to the hotel?” Mark grabbed his phone. “Lord Ferro, allow me to handle the payment for what we ate,” Vargas said, getting up, sensing that Mark wanted to make a call. Mark handed his wallet to Vargas, who went to the bar. Mark scrolled through his contacts until he found the letter K. On the other end of the call, Karl and Lu

At Ferro House, Nadir and Briana were having an excellent dinner. They could hear Julian’s splashes in the pool. Regis was nervously closing the window curtains so the two ladies wouldn’t see the cook swimming without a swimsuit. “Is the dinner to your liking, ladies?” Regis asked, disguising his nervousness. “It’s delicious, Regis,” Nadir looked around. “Where’s the cook so we can thank him?” “He’s swimming in the pool, Mom. It’s his second hobby,” Briana giggled. “We’ll talk to him later.” “Much later, ladies!” Regis cleared his throat nervously, fearing the ladies might get scared if they went to the pool now. After a bow, he left. Nadir found the closed curtains strange but decided to bring up another subject. “Daughter, now that we’re alone, what’s this nonsense about feeling ‘indebted’ to Celia?” Briana took a deep breath, sipped some grape juice, and continued, “I don’t even know how to explain it, Mom. You know Celia was also a victim of the spiked coffee, ‘courtesy’ o

Briana closed her eyes, trying to summon the image.In her memory, the Vasconcelos lobby appeared: a young man in his twenties, tall, with hypnotic blue eyes and dark hair. His smile was charming, almost magnetic, and he used it to greet everyone who passed — though always with a particular emphasis on the women. Claudia, who never bothered with the turnstile entrance thanks to her status as the CEO’s wife, strolled through that day. She leaned in toward the receptionist, whispering something only he could hear. His smile widened as she passed, ignoring the private VIP access as though she were merely another assistant.The memory dissolved, and Briana found herself back in the warmth of the suite, cheeks flushed scarlet as her mother’s voice carried on.“Well, the young man would miss entire days of work,” Nadir explained, her tone sharp with irony. “According to his colleagues, he was too exhausted to get out of bed after nights of sheer depravity at Claudia’s hands. And then, one d

A shiver ran through Luana. Karl had already suspected as much. “Brie agrees entirely. But Mark called Karl to complain about what he did. He wants, at all costs, to protect his ex-wife.”“That won’t end well,” Mary Ellen murmured.“Exactly. But Brie will handle her husband. He’s far too valuable.”Mary Ellen smiled. “Well, I’m glad your engagement survived Celia the Cursed’s schemes. Goodnight, my friend. Sleep with the angels.”“I’ll be sleeping with one very handsome, well-built angel!” Luana replied with a laugh.Both women chuckled before ending the call. But as soon as Mary Ellen set down the phone, her smile faded.She leaned back against her headboard, picked up the tablet, and stared at the paused drama. Her finger hovered over the play button, yet she didn’t press it.“Briana, be careful with Celia,” she whispered.Only after a deep breath did she finally resume the show, her smile returning, though her thoughts lingered elsewhere.******In the suite of the Régio Hotel, Mar

Briana enjoyed a lavish breakfast prepared by Julian, in the dinner room at the Ferro House, a meal meant to support her pregnancy. She had no thoughts for Celia, offering not a shred of sympathy.Nadir sat with her, though her eyes strayed often to the young chef.Julian, in his crisp chef’s jacket, moved about innocently, but Nadir’s fertile imagination stripped him bare.“Julian, you’ve outdone yourself with these eggs,” Briana praised.“Thank you, Mrs. Ferro,” he replied politely, before turning to Nadir. “Madame Vasconcelos, would you like anything else?”Nadir’s mind screamed one thing: ‘Your cucumber!’But aloud, she said sweetly, “Nothing more, young man. I’m perfectly satisfied.”Julian nodded and left. Nadir’s eyes, however, were glued to the sway of his walk, her gaze trained on his backside. With her seasoned instincts, she could swear he was freeballing.“Daughter,” she began, testing the waters, “I think your chef—”“He’s very efficient, isn’t he, Mother?” Briana cut in.