Alex stood at the edge of it all, staring at the wreckage left behind—the blood, the chaos, Charles’s and Josephine’s bodies lying still.His pulse hammered in his ears, but then something changed. The air around him shifted. The world slowed.And then, everything rewound.The noise faded.He was back—five minutes ago.Not time travel. Not a dream. Something deeper.Ever since he’d reached that new level of connection with the universe, he could feel it—the current running through everything.He could communicate with it. See the threads of what might happen before they unfolded.It wasn’t imagination. It was as real as breath, as sharp as pain.The universe whispered, and he saw possibilities like scenes layered over one another—some leading to life, others to death.Now he stood once again where it all began.Charles walked toward him.“Alex,” he said quietly. “I know I’ve done you wrong. I’ve been thinking about things—about my parents, about the mess I made. I want to make it righ

“No—Bella, you can’t— you can’t do this to me!” Charles screamed.Panic shredded his voice. Minutes ago he’d been on the edge of everything he’d wanted. This couldn’t be the end.He refused to accept it. He had sacrificed too much to get here — fought, schemed, and clawed his way to the top.He wasn’t about to lose everything now.Bella’s face was a blade. “You kill my man and think you’ll walk away untouched?”She spat. “Think you’re invincible? That the world spins for you?”“Bella, please,” Charles croaked, clutching at air. “I have Guise’s will—inheritance. I’ll pay. Money will fix this. A billion—ten billion—anything. Just let me go.”Her laugh was low and cruel. “Why should I hand you what’s mine? All that money will be mine once you’re dead. I only need your eyes and your fingerprints.”“How do you—?” Charles gasped.“I paid Mike,” Bella growled. “You think Mike’s on your side?” Her eyes were cold steel. “Now give me your eyes and your hands.”“Take Paris,” Charles babbled, his

“Alex,” Katarina snapped. “You’ve already embarrassed me enough. I don’t want to see your face here again. Go kneel by the entrance until I decide you’ve suffered enough to deserve forgiveness!”Alex lowered his head. His voice came out quiet, respectful. “Yes, my wife.”Her eyes flared. Another slap, sharper than the first. “Who said I’m your wife? If it weren’t for that Saint-Claire name, even a dog wouldn’t marry you. Now get out!”Heinrich Schiller stepped forward and caught Katarina’s arm, smirking. “Don’t waste your anger on that mutt, Katarina. You’ll only lower yourself.”Alex said nothing.‘Silence after an insult is the loudest cry.’He turned and walked toward the exit, head bowed, every eye on him.Whispered voices filled the room as soon as he was gone.“I heard he’s the last of the Saint-Claires,” one man murmured.“Last?” another scoffed. “That family’s been dead for decades. Only Logan Saint-Claire escaped, and he disappeared like a rat.”A woman laughed behind her gla

“Heinrich, you’re incredible!” someone called out, and the crowd erupted with cruel approval. Murmurs rippled through the room, sharp and cutting.“Smart move,” one man said under his breath.“She’s pathetic,” another sneered. “Crying over a man who’s already done with her.”“She’s drowning in emotions—feelings make people stupid,” a third added with a laugh.“Look at her, humiliated in front of everyone. I’d love to meet her father… to see what kind of man could raise a daughter this foolish. Absolutely shameful.”“Now, Sofina,” Heinrich said, straightening his suit, his tone polite as a blade. “I’m done wasting time. Leave this banquet. I don’t want you humiliating Katarina—or everyone here—with your presence. You reek of poverty.”“You never loved me, did you?” Sofina whispered. Her faith cracked—not from disbelief, but from believing too much.“I loved you,” Heinrich said.“But only when you were useful—when you gave me your money, your body, your time. Back then, I really did love

Alex didn’t spare Heinrich a glance.Instead, he swept Sofina into his arms—in a tender princess hold—lifting her effortlessly, as if she weighed nothing at all. He held her the way a man carries something sacred, something too precious to ever let touch the ground.Gasps rippled through the hall as he held her close against his chest, her hair brushing his jaw, her heartbeat trembling against his own.He looked down at her, eyes soft, voice low and certain.“My wife,” he murmured, every word wrapped in warmth, “let’s leave this place. There’s nothing worth hearing here—only the noise of those who never knew what love feels like.”Sofina’s face burned crimson. No one had ever held her like this—so fiercely, yet so gently. Her heart pounded against his chest, wild and trembling.Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck as he carried her through the stunned crowd, his strength steady, his presence unshakable.She was drunk—intoxicated not by wine, but by the relief and warmth of h