"Really? That's your big plan? Getting some poor friend to pretend for you?" Nathaniel laughed harshly. "Oh, I see now. You told him to act like he was Anthony Williams, right?" He turned to the others with a smug grin. "Did you hear that? He claims he just spoke with Anthony Williams himself!" Nathaniel shook his head. "Anthony Williams? The most powerful businessman in the city? And we're supposed to believe he takes calls from... you?" Mrs. Greene crossed her arms. "This is ridiculous. A grown man who won't stop lying." "Exactly!" Nathaniel jumped in. "Anthony Williams has entire teams handling his calls. You expect us to believe he picked up personally? To transfer five million dollars? Just like that?" His eyes narrowed on Damon. "That amount proves you're lying. Five million dollars? You act like it's pocket change. I bet you've never seen that much money in your life." "Stop it, Nathaniel," Celia said, her voice shaking. She felt tired and helpless—they wouldn't listen to

After the drama with Nathaniel, the family gathered around the dinner table. Mrs. Greene had prepared a feast, constantly serving Damon the best dishes and treating him like royalty. "Please, eat more," Mrs. Greene said, placing another portion on Damon's plate. "You must be hungry after dealing with all that nonsense from Nathaniel." "Thank you, Mrs. Greene," Damon replied politely. "The food is excellent." Mr. Greene nodded approvingly. "My wife is a wonderful cook. We're honored to have you at our table." Celia sat quietly, still processing everything that had happened. She glanced at Damon, who remained calm and composed despite the dramatic turn of events. "Damon," Mrs. Greene said suddenly, "I have to ask you something. How did you know Anthony Williams would call like that? The timing was perfect." Damon set down his chopsticks and looked at her directly. "Sometimes people make assumptions about others without knowing the full story. I've learned that patience often reveal

The pillows lay between them like a wall, but they did little to ease the tension in the air. Celia lay on her side, facing away from Damon, trying to control her racing heart. She could feel his presence behind her, solid and warm, separated only by the flimsy barrier of pillows. Neither of them moved, both pretending to be relaxed while being acutely aware of each other. "Thank you again for the advance payment," Celia said softly into the darkness, breaking the heavy silence. "I know it's unusual for Vespera to pay so early, but I appreciate that Anthony Williams did this because of your relationship with him." Damon remained quiet for a moment. He could correct her, tell her the truth that the money came from his personal account, but something held him back. "You don't need to thank me," he finally said. Celia shifted slightly, the mattress dipping with her movement. "I do, though. You don't know how much this helps my family." She paused, taking a deep breath. "I should proba

Vivienne stood frozen at the top of the jet stairs, her eyes locked on Damon through the glass of the private lounge. The emotions crashing through her were overwhelming - joy, disbelief, and underneath it all, a love for him that refused to fade. Even if Damon hated her, she knew she’d always want him. After all these years of searching, of hiring private investigators, of following every lead that led nowhere, here he was. Standing right there, watching her with that same unreadable expression she remembered so well. She gripped the handrail tighter, her knuckles turning white. Damon had disappeared from Sydney without a trace after returning from prison. She never got the chance to tell him the truth—that she had misunderstood him, that it was her mistake that sent him to prison, and that she wanted to beg for his forgiveness. But by the time she realized it, Damon had already gone back to Newcastle, leaving her to wonder if he was even alive. He had hidden so well that, desp

“What…?” Celia whispered, the word barely a sound. She looked at Damon, her eyes wide with a million questions. “Damon, what is she… You know her?” He never said a word about this—not once. Even when she spoke about Vivienne—yesterday and again today, he acted as if Vivienne Ashford were a stranger, a distant icon Celia admired from afar. But this... this was not the look of a stranger. This was something deeper. “Damon, please,” Vivienne said again, her voice soft and trembling. The confident, unshakable woman from the photos was gone, replaced by someone vulnerable. “I can’t believe you’re really here. After all this time, I’ve been looking… I’ve been looking for you for years.” Damon remained silent. His posture was rigid, his jaw set like stone. If Celia looked closely, she could see a muscle twitching along his jawline. The air around him had grown impossibly cold. It wasn’t the calm indifference he’d shown Serena and Michael; this was different. This was a deep, chilling a