The sky was bleeding orange as the evening sun dipped below the edge of the city. Valeria stepped out of the car, her heels tapping softly against the steps of the Quinn estate. Her pulse hadn't calmed since the van ride, and Joshua’s words still echoed in her skull."You want to enjoy with the king? Then you must suffer like one."She paused at the tall double doors, exhaled, and forced composure onto her face. Calm. Controlled. Quiet.The door swung open before she even touched the handle.And there he was.Elijah.Standing in the foyer with his arms folded, muscles taut beneath his black dress shirt, jaw sharp.“Where were you?” His voice was deep, unreadable, but the frown on his face spoke louder than words. “You didn’t show up at work.”Valeria froze mid-step.She couldn’t let him know. Not now. Not until she understood whose side Joshua truly stood on.She tilted her head, offering a soft, neutral smile —“I paid a visit to someone. Outside the city.”Elijah’s brows twitched.

The rain had begun to fall—thin needles slicing through the night air as Valeria stepped out of the black car, her boots crunching on shattered glass. She had followed the coordinates Anna whispered into her ear. A remote property on the city’s fringe. Barely on the map. Surrounded by silence. But the silence was a lie. Because when she walked past the outer gate She saw them. Bodies. Two guards, face-down on the stone pathway. Blood already beginning to soak into the earth. One of them had a bullet hole straight through the eye socket. Valeria gasped, covering her mouth. No. No no no… Her heart galloped. “Elijah?”she called, stumbling forward, rain soaking her hair. She pushed the heavy door open—creaking on its hinges—and stepped into the dim foyer of the estate. Inside, the air was thick with gunpowder. And then she saw them. At the end of the hall, inside a room lined with old books and old whiskey bottles arranged on shelves— Elijah. And his father. The only thin

The flashing lights blazed like lightning as Elijah and Valeria stepped onto the red carpet of the Global Private Investment Convention. Reporters swarmed behind velvet ropes. Microphones hovered. Camera shutters snapped like fireworks. Elijah leaned slightly toward her, whispering with a smirk, “You’re looking beautiful.” Valeria didn’t miss a beat, smiling flawlessly at the cameras. “Let’s not forget our business deal,” she murmured through her perfect smile. “No falling in love.” He chuckled, eyes still on the press. “Who said anything about love? I’m inviting you to dinner… as my business partner.” She raised a brow. “I’ll think about it.” Together, they posed one last time before stepping into the grand glass doors of the convention center, waving at the murmuring crowd. Inside, the air was cooler, scented with cologne, power, and ambition. Their seats were perfectly arranged at the front row—embroidered name tags marked “Vanguard Holdings” and “Quinn Enterprises.”

“Cheers!” Elijah laughed, holding up the whiskey glass. “CHEERS!” Valeria echoed, their glasses clinking with reckless joy as golden liquid sloshed dangerously close to the rim. They downed another round. Laughter spilled from their lips like champagne. They were drunk. Beautifully, shamelessly drunk. “Your eyes,” Valeria giggled, swaying slightly, “look like they’re spinning.” “That’s rich—coming from someone who just toasted with an empty glass,” Elijah teased, pointing at her still-raised hand. Valeria blinked. Then burst into laughter. “Okay,” she said between giggles, “let’s go mess something up.” They stumbled through the softly lit hallway, laughing and mumbling nonsense. Their shadows danced beside them, larger than life. Then— They reached the arcade section of the complex. Neon lights. Classic games. Holographic projectors. “Ready to lose?” Valeria challenged, elbowing Elijah. “I was born ready,” Elijah said, slamming the START button on a two-player combat sim

She stirred. Groaned. Then— Snorted. Her mouth was wide open. A small trail of dried drool traced the corner of her lip. Valeria blinked once. Then twice. She jolted up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, groaning like an old truck engine. Her hair looked like a bird's nest after a storm. “Classy…” she muttered to herself. The pounding in her head felt like a live drum solo in her skull. A hangover. Figures. A knock came at the door. “Come in,” she rasped, shielding her eyes from the light. The door opened, and in walked Sienna—fresh as a morning rose, holding a cup of steaming tea. “Morning,” she said with a gentle smile. “You look like someone who got hit by last night.” Valeria grunted. “Do me a favor and throw the sun out the window.” Sienna chuckled, walked to the window, and pulled the heavy curtains shut. The room instantly dipped into a cozy darkness. “Better?” Valeria flopped back on the bed. “You’re my hero.” “I brought something for the headache,” S