Ethan exhaled sharply, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the smooth surface of the ring as the weight of his Magnus' words sank in. According to his Magnus, the ring had existed for centuries, passed down through their bloodline—but not everyone could wear it. Only those it chose. “Now you understand why I said I never thought I’d set foot in this chamber again." Magnus' words cut through his thoughts like a blade. "Because only the ring’s true bearer can access this place.” "So you're telling me this ring... my ring is some kind of ancient key?" Ethan's voice echoed against the walls, bouncing back at him like an accusation. Magnus shook his head. "Not just that, son." "You should already know this by now—for five generations before me, the ring rejected every single Aurelius. Then you came along, and for the first time in over a hundred years, it actually fit your finger and came to life." Ethan's breath hitched. That meant… "You mean to say," he struggled to grasp the weigh

The meeting place was hidden deep beneath the city—an old cathedral turned private sanctuary that hadn’t seen daylight in years. Faded stained-glass windows lined the upper walls, filtering what little moonlight reached this far underground. The stone walls were cracked in places. A long rectangular table stood in the center of the room, its surface polished so well it mirrored the golden chandelier hanging above. Each chair had the symbol of the Order of the Eternal Flame carved into the wood behind it. It used to be where they held their meetings in the absence of the true King of the World—since they had no access to the chamber. Magnus walked in first, and Ethan followed closely behind. Five figures stood around the table, each one radiating wealth, power, and control. Duke Terrence Cavill, a real estate mogul who practically owned half the capital city, was seated confidently in a sharp navy velvet suit. His silver cufflinks caught the light, and his hair was slicked back

The low hum of the Mercedes’ engine blended with the quiet of the night as it glided down the dimly lit streets. Ethan sat in the backseat, his posture relaxed but his mind anything but, as he stared out the window, watching the blur of streetlights and towering buildings. Lara occupied the front passenger seat, her expression unreadable. Her driver handled the wheel, his eyes fixed ahead, as if sensing the storm brewing behind him. The auction they were heading to had been marketed as a charity event—a noble attempt to rescue a financially struggling orphanage. A place that, on paper, existed to nurture abandoned children. But Ethan knew better. That institution was nothing more than a breeding ground for cruelty, run by soulless opportunists who fed off misfortune. It had been his prison, his battleground, the place where kindness was a currency never spent on children like him. He had lived in its suffocating walls, endured its brutality, and now, he was returning—not as a h

A grin spread across Ethan’s face the moment he spotted the house supervisor of the orphanage, now aged, along with a few staff members. “Perfect,” he murmured, his smile growing as he and Lara strode toward the front row, aware of the lingering gazes following them. However, the moment they settled into the first row, hushed voices fluttered around them: "Look at them... they're sitting so close." "Is that really her? I've never seen her show interest in anyone before." "What's that man doing with her? Are... they look like they could be a couple." "She’s never even smiled at a man in public before. This is history in the making.” "It's not possible. She's known for being married to her work. She's allergic to romance." “But look at how close they’re sitting… do you think…?” Ethan’s lips curled into a smirk as he leaned close to Lara and whispered, "Looks like you’ve got yourself a reputation.’” His smirk widened, but her expression remained unreadable. Then, as if they had

Ethan leaned back in his chair, his lips curling into a smirk. “What’s the matter? Not even going to put up a fight for the bid? Or have you finally accepted that you simply can’t afford to?” Vanessa scoffed, her expression twisted with disdain. “You? My competitor?” She let out a scornful chuckle. “You’re not even worthy of being my opponent. You’re not even worthy to stand in my shadow.” He nodded and gave a slight shrug. "Yet, here we are." “Why do you insist on living a fantasy, huh?” she spat, eyes blazing. "You walk in here, acting like you belong—throwing out ridiculous bids like you actually have the money!" Someone murmured, “What… she really mean it? That he's poor?" "Interesting." He nodded, tapping his fingers against his knee. "That’s what you think of me?” "Who do you think you are?” she scoffed loudly, flipping her hair as she let out a sharp laugh. "Seriously, do you think sitting here makes you one of us? This isn’t some street market where you can bluff your