Sierra spotted Ethan near the racks of casual wear, and at first, she looked down on him with a scoff. What’s he doing here? she thought, wrinkling her nose at his blood-stained jacket and worn boots. Did he mistake this for a thrift store? But then her phone buzzed. A message popped up from one of her contacts—someone who liked to brag about being close to power: “The Irving family just issued a bounty on a guy named Ethan. One million dollars for his location.” Sierra’s eyes widened, and a wicked smile slowly curled across her face. No way. Is this fate? She turned her gaze back to Ethan, who was inspecting a hoodie with quiet focus, oblivious to her stare. He looked too calm—too unaware. Perfect. He clearly had no clue that the most dangerous crime family in the city had a price on his head. Sierra’s mind raced. If she played this right, she and Marcus could split a million-dollar payday. Without wasting a second, she nudged Marcus, whispered her plan, and he slipped away t

Ethan pushed open the door to his loft with a soft click, balancing the boutique’s elegant shopping bags in one hand. The lights were low, casting a golden hue across the room, and a faint hint of lavender lingered in the air—Rosanna must’ve found the diffuser.“Alice?” he called gently.A soft rustle answered him.She peeked out from behind the couch, still tightly swaddled in the blanket like a burrito, only her eyes visible above the folds.“You’re back,” she mumbled, blinking.He chuckled softly. “Still in the blanket?”“It’s become a lifestyle choice,” she said dryly. “Also, still naked, remember?”Ethan held up the bags like a trophy. “Not anymore. Clothes. High-end, handpicked, boutique-approved.”Her eyes lit up with cautious curiosity. “Did you… actually pick these out?”He smirked. “Personally. And with great trauma. I had to slap a man to make it happen.”Alice raised an eyebrow. “Slap a man?”“Well… I made him get slapped. Long story. You’ll love it. Try these on.”He plac

Belen burst into laughter—loud, mocking, hollow. Heads turned again, some gasps echoed through the room, but Belen didn’t care. His eyes gleamed with twisted amusement as he leaned in, his voice sharp as shattered glass.“You think you’re powerful now, Alice?” he sneered. “You really believe Martin Irving let you go because you impressed him with that silver tongue—or that sweet pussy of yours?” His eyes raked over her like she was nothing. “Please. You were just a toy. A pawn. Do you honestly think he’s going to make you his wife? You’re nothing but a tool for him to avenge his son.”Alice didn’t flinch. But Ethan’s jaw tightened. He stepped closer, placing himself between her and Belen, his expression calm—too calm.“Careful,” Ethan said smoothly, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket. “You’re talking a little too loudly for someone so uninformed.”“Oh?” Belen scoffed. “And who are you again? Her latest sugar daddy?”Ethan chuckled under his breath, like Belen’s words were the punchline

Sophia’s fingers trembled as she slowly lowered her phone, the screen going black. Her face was as pale as chalk.Belen stared at her, confused and alarmed. “What is it? What’s wrong?”She didn’t answer immediately. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. Then, in a hoarse whisper, she said, “There’s a new head of the Irving family.”Belen scoffed, trying to laugh off the rising dread in his chest. “So? That’s good news, right? We’re still protected—”“No,” Sophia snapped, her voice cracking. “It’s not good news. The new boss… isn’t backing us. We’ve been told to stay out of internal affairs. Effective immediately… we’re nothing. Powerless.”Belen’s jaw dropped. “W-What?”Sophia’s hands clenched at her sides. “We’re on our own.”Suddenly, Ethan took a step forward, his presence towering, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “Then get lost.”Both of them looked up at him in shock.“You heard me,” Ethan said, his tone frigid. “You’re no longer under anyone’s prot

Sierra couldn’t stop pacing. Her stilettos echoed sharply against the polished marble floors. Her lips curled into a smile, not the sweet kind—no, this one was smug, predatory.“Finally,” she muttered to herself, “someone who knows what the hell they’re doing.”She paused in front of the tall window, staring at her reflection in the glass. The bruises along her jaw had faded to a soft lavender, almost beautiful if you tilted your head. She ran her fingers down her cheek gently, tilting her chin.“You hear that, Marcus?” she said to her own image, voice laced with venom. “Maxime Trent’s in charge now. You can crawl back into your feelings and cry yourself to sleep.”Her hand reached for the wine glass on the side table. The red liquid shimmered under the chandelier’s glow as she raised it in mock celebration.“To leverage,” she toasted with a soft chuckle. “To competence. To men who know how to win.”****Ethan stepped out of the restaurant, the warm chatter and clinking glasses fading