By the time they were finished, Eva barely recognized the woman in the mirror. She looked like royalty. But she also looked like herself—just elevated, polished, transformed. One maid spoke softly. “Madam… you look breathtaking.” Eva placed a hand over her heart. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Truly.” Eva exhaled softly, lifting her fingers to touch the cool fabric. “Thank you,” she murmured, though her voice carried a tremor of nerves. She had attended events before… but nothing like tonight—not by Chris’s side, not in front of Washington’s elite. A gentle knock interrupted her thoughts. The maids stepped back instinctively. The door opened. and Chris entered the room He stepped through the doorway dressed in one of the White family’s signature evening suits—sleek, midnight black with subtle silver accents that caught the light whenever he moved. The suit fitted flawlessly, every detail polished to quiet perfection. His hair had been brushed back slightly, giving him a refin

The art exhibition bidding began shortly after. Exquisite paintings, sculptures, and rare artifacts were rolled out one by one. The elite seated around Chris kept glancing at him, waiting to see whether he would bid. Each time he raised his hand, the entire room stilled. “One million dollars from Mr. White.” “Any counter?” “Going once… going twice…” Silence. “No counter.” Because no one dared to challenge the financial power of the White Family. Eva leaned close and teased softly, “You know, you’re scaring them.” Chris smiled slightly. “Good. It saves time but I never stopped them from trying.” She laughed gently. He bought several pieces—modern impressionist paintings, a marble sculpture carved by a world-famous artist, and a rare antique ink drawing from Japan. And each time, silence followed his bids like a shadow. Halfway through, Chris leaned toward her. “I need to step out for a short meeting with a few business partners,” he murmured. “Adrian and Serena will stay h

On the other hand Chris walked to the kitchen as he had plans of making dinner himself just like he used to do back in Brooklyn. Shortly, Eva returned, this time wearing a more casual outfit. She stood as the entrance as she watched Chris chop vegetables with practiced efficiency. It gave her a nostalgic feeling watching him work as it brought back memories of their simple lifestyle in Brooklyn. Back then she was just struggling to get the recognition of her family while dealing with the treachery of her grandfather, uncle and cousin. It was surreal to think that she was married to the most influential man in the country in spite of all her struggles. “You could have at least left one maid.” She commented. Chris looked at her with a loving gaze and smiled “No, I wanted to do this specially for you.” he responded. his eyes kept finding Eva, lingering on her face with a quiet admiration that made her heart flutter. “I’m impressed,” he said suddenly, voice low, carrying both sur

The fall of Marcus Steele should have been the end of the crisis. The Steele corporation—once a monolith of political manipulation and oil-sector dominance—was now being carved apart by Chris. Chris didn't show mercy as he swallowed the entire Steele enterprise and integrated it with the white family dynasty. It was war that Chris had won in the corporate arena. He had outmaneuvered Steele. He had shattered the coalition behind him. And in doing so, he had solidified the White family’s influence in Washington like reinforced steel. The public hailed Chris as a young titan—sharp, unshakeable, and dangerously brilliant. Behind podiums and polished camera flashes, he looked every inch the modern political prodigy. But beneath the glittering surface… beneath the applause, the smiling interviews, and the carefully curated praise… something far darker waited to be unearthed. A truth that reeked of betrayal. A truth that crawled out of the past with blood-stained boots and a famil

The midday sus shone brightly in the sky, illuminating the bustling city of Washington. At this moment, Eva was seated at a round table in the private hall of a very expensive restaurant having an exclusive tea gathering. The hall glittered with controlled luxury. Crystal chandeliers hung like frozen constellations above polished marble floors, diffusing soft halos of gold across the room. Classical music floated in the air—gentle violins, elegant piano strokes—just loud enough to create an atmosphere of refinement but quiet enough for whispered judgments to glide beneath it. This gathering was meant for Washington’s most elite female individuals, wives of senators, daughters of ambassadors, heiresses of obscenely wealthy families. Their gowns shimmered—pearls, silk, velvet, gold embroidery; beauty and power stitched into every seam. But behind the perfume and jewelry, the room felt like a gilded cage lined with invisible bars. Eva sat among them with perfect posture, smiling polite