Nathan pushed through the quiet evening breeze as he walked toward the towering black-gated entrance of Lite Castle Villa. The security lights blinked awake the moment his shoes touched the outer tiles. With a soft mechanical hum, the tall gates slid apart on their own, welcoming him inside like a silent beast spreading its jaws.He rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped through, trying to blink away the slight haze in his vision. But as his eyes drifted toward the driveway, the blurriness thickened again. A sleek silver car, one he didn’t recognize at that moment, was parked right behind his bike, positioned neatly in front of the round fountain. The water glittered under the lights, but his eyes refused to focus on it.He drew in a slow breath, steadying himself as he headed to the front door.Just as he reached out for the handle, a faint perfume drifted toward him, soft, floral, and too deliberately sweet for a man. Someone was here.He walked in and the TV murmured faintly fro

Nathan descended the narrow iron staircase one slow step at a time, each footfall echoing faintly against the stone walls. The underground dojo wasn’t like the polished world above him. Every other corner of Lite Castle Villa boasted sleek glass, soft-lit corridors, and quiet luxury. But this place, a hidden tunnel of a room carved beneath the villa, carried a rawness that time didn’t bother to refine. The walls were bare stone, uneven in places, and the air always smelled faintly of damp clay and steel. Only a few lantern-style lights glowed along the corners, casting long shadows across the floor mats.It was here he chose to meditate tonight.He lowered himself to the center of the room, seating his legs in a folded position. His palms rested on his knees, facing upward, and he let his spine lengthen, his breathing slow. The silence wrapped around him immediately, thick, deep, and grounding. The coldness of the floor seeped through the mat and into his bones, but he welcomed it. Hi

The polished black jeep glided through the city streets, but inside, Natalia felt anything but smooth. A quick, discreet glance at the phone on her lap made her stomach tighten. 7:15 PM. The numbers glowed with a silent accusation. They had been driving for twenty minutes, and the restaurant, wherever it was, still wasn't in sight. Each minute that ticked by felt like a small stone added to the pile of discomfort in her lap. She shifted slightly, the fine leather of the back seat cool against her legs, her gaze fixed on the blur of passing streetlights, their golden streaks smearing across the window like tears.Meanwhile, seated beside her, Heath felt as if he were riding on a cloud rather than in a vehicle. He was finally on a date with Natalia. The thought echoed in his mind, a triumphant fanfare. He had planned this evening for weeks, and now, here she was, a vision in emerald green sitting just inches away in the dim cabin of his luxury Jeep. He was confident, utterly sure that a

The silver fork and knife Natalia was holding slipped from her grasp, landing with a soft, dull clatter on her porcelain plate. Undeterred by her shock, he leaned across the table, his eyes burning with fervent conviction. “I’m going to be a better man than your ex-husband, Nathan. I’ll make you the queen of my life and my entire family. Everyone will exalt you as my woman. And your company,” he added, as if it were the most romantic pledge in the world, “it will never crash with my support.”“Heath…” she started, her voice a whisper of warning.“I love you, Natalia,” he declared, proudly, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. He said it as if he were bestowing a great honor upon her. “I’m sure you can never reject love from me because we’re a good fit for each other.” He paused for dramatic effect, his eyes glinting, and delivered what he believed was his final, crushing blow. “Above all, I’m over a million times better than that degraded peasant Nathan you once married.”A

The heavy front door clicked shut behind Natalia, sealing out the night and the unsettling memory of Heath’s final, placid smile. She leaned back against the solid wood for a second, closing her eyes, desperate for a moment of quiet to process the evening’s twisted path. But the house offered no sanctuary.A shift of fabric, a soft clearing of a throat. Her eyes snapped open.There they were, lying in wait like two elegant spiders in the plush web of the living room. Her mother, Thelma, perched on the edge of an armchair, and her sister, Joyce, curled on the sofa. Their faces were identical masks of keen, hungry anticipation, their postures rigid with unasked questions.Spotting her first, Thelma arose. The movement was fluid, predatory. A low, purring sound escaped her lips. “My sweet, lovely first daughter,” she cooed, the endearment dripping with false honey. “You’re back from your date. And so early! We barely expected you before midnight.”Joyce uncurled herself, a smaller, sharp