Braxton stared at Natalia for a long, silent moment. The hum of the quiet road seemed to fade as he searched her face, the calm defiance in her eyes, the unbending lift of her chin. She didn’t blink, didn’t waver. Her stare was steel, unyielding. Slowly, his smirk faltered, the confidence draining just a little from his features.“You really don’t know when to take a good deal, do you?” he said finally, voice low, almost coaxing. “Natalia, you’re too smart to let emotion cloud judgment. I’m offering you a ladder to the top, no strings attached except a little cooperation.”Her silence made him press on, a hint of irritation seeping into his tone. “You think your ordinary family, your meaningless ex-husband, or even your company will protect you forever? The business world doesn’t care about loyalty. It cares about power.”Natalia gave a faint, cold smile, not one of amusement, but of pure disbelief. “Are you done?”“Not yet.” He leaned forward slightly, his cologne mingling faintly wi

Taylor meant it, in a way that surprised her, not the savage, quick victory she might once have imagined, but a patient, surgical dismantling of a threat. The mirror reflected the steel in her eyes, and the room, for all its perfume and lace, felt suddenly like an operations theatre.She set the phone down, the images glowing like embers on the screen, and for the first time since dinner, she felt something close to control.The next morning, the mansion was quieter than usual. The sun had already climbed over the eastern hill, its rays glinting through the tall windows of the Monroe villa, illuminating the dining area with a soft golden hue. Taylor had intentionally stayed back home that morning, unlike her usual rush to the bank. She wanted to have breakfast with her grandfather, Johnson, who preferred to eat a little later than the rest of the family.The clinking of silverware and the faint aroma of buttered toast filled the space. Taylor sat opposite Johnson, quietly cutting into

Amelia stood in her living room that morning, the weight of silence pressing against her chest. The air felt thick, too still, too heavy, as though the walls themselves were holding their breath. Her father, Alaric, sat regally on the couch before her. His posture was sharp, his expression darker than a storm, and in his hand rested a black walking cane whose tip tapped the marble floor with rhythmic impatience. The faint echo of each tap seemed to pierce through her chest, steady and menacing.Leo stood a few meters away, his hands folded neatly before him, every inch the disciplined bodyguard. His eyes stayed fixed on the far wall, but he could feel the tension seeping through the air, he could feel her fear. Even from that distance, Amelia’s nerves were practically vibrating off her body. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, her throat tight.Still, she forced herself to meet his stare. “Father,” she began softly, her voice barely steady, “I hope it wasn’t a stressful j

Leo hesitated the tiniest of seconds, as if weighing whether to argue for the hotel he’d suggested, then gave a stiff nod. He slung the luggage over his shoulder and moved toward the hallway, every step measured, every breath controlled.Alaric followed, cloak-like and undeniable, his presence a shadow swallowing the light. He moved with the immaculate calm of a ruler confident he had set every piece in place. Amelia watched them go down the hallway, the sword sheathed again, the echo of Alaric’s cane, a metronome marking the way she had been ordered to live.She let out a sound that was half sigh, half sob, but she kept it low. The room felt suddenly cavernous and cold. She had the photograph folded in her palm like contraband; its edges bit into her skin.When the footsteps faded, when the door clicked softly behind them, she turned away, her breathing heavy in despair and petrification.After showing Alaric his room, Leo made his way back downstairs, his footsteps quiet against the

Natalia’s tires crunched softly against the paved driveway as she pulled into her house after a long day’s work. The streetlamps outside threw pale streaks across her windshield, the faint hum of the car’s engine the only sound in the quiet evening. She exhaled, shutting off the ignition and leaning back against the seat for a moment, her shoulders slumping in quiet exhaustion.Her fingers brushed over her handbag on the passenger seat. She reached for it but paused, her thoughts drifting unbidden to Nathan.A deep breath escaped her lips. Should I… go see him? she wondered, her eyes momentarily softening.She sat still, staring at the steering wheel, torn between logic and emotion. “Shouldn’t I have stopped by his house to get the food containers I used to bring dinner for him last night?” she muttered, half to herself, half to the night air. Her hand lifted to check her wristwatch. “It’s just past seven… not that late.”She frowned, hesitating as her fingers brushed the car key agai