The grand doors of the Midsummer Gala swung open, revealing a ballroom that was a masterclass in opulence. Crystal chandeliers hung like frozen rain, and the air was thick with the scent of lilies and the low hum of high-society chatter."Stay close, Chloe," Rosalind murmured. She held her head high, though her heart felt leaden. She looked stunning in her silver gown, but to her, the silk felt like armor for a war she wasn't sure she wanted to fight."I need to greet the board members. Keep an eye out for... anyone unexpected.""Of course, Ms. Springfield," Chloe replied, her voice a silk ribbon of professional calm. "I’ll handle the peripheral networking while you take center stage."As Rosalind moved toward a cluster of tech moguls and oil magnates with practiced grace, Chloe stepped into the shadows of a velvet-draped alcove. The gala was in full swing, but the silence from the 12th Precinct was starting to grate.She pulled a burner phone from her clutch and dialed Captain Fow

Alastair MacSterling took a long, measured sip of his whisky, his keen eyes shifting from the entrance back to Rosalind’s pale face. He caught the way her breath hitched, the way her composure fractured like thin ice under a heavy boot."Well, lass," Alastair rumbled, his Scottish burr deep and inquisitive. "Are ye no longer speakin’, or do ye actually ken those two? The lad looks like he’s about to buy the building just to evict the atmosphere."Rosalind blinked, forcing her lungs to move. She gripped her clutch so tightly the silk groaned against her palm. "I... I know them, Alastair. Business partners. And a friend."The lie tasted like ash. Calling Sean a friend felt like a profanity, but she couldn't bring herself to say ex-husband to a man like Alastair, who weighed a person’s worth by the stability of their legacy.Alastair let out a dry huff. "A friend, is it? He’s lookin' at that emerald-clad lassie like she’s the only lighthouse in a storm. If that's friendship, I’ve be

The final notes of the orchestra faded into the vaulted ceiling, leaving a ringing silence heavier than the music itself.The gala was winding down, but for the women standing at the center of the marble floor, the real event was only beginning.Abrill stepped forward, the emerald of her gown flowing against the polished stone.She looked at Rosalind, pale and trembling, her silver dress now resembling a shroud more than a celebration.With a calm, predatory grace, Abrill tilted her head slightly, formal and deliberate."Good evening, Rosalind," she said, her voice smooth, clear, and unyielding. "I believe we have some unfinished business. Our bet still stands, yes? We agreed to see who would achieve more by the end of this cycle. Shall we see the results, or would you like me to go first?"Sean, half a step behind Abrill, allowed a faint frown to mar his handsome features. He hadn’t witnessed the wager’s beginnings; he hadn’t seen the petty power plays or boardroom insults while he

Straightening, his eyes burning with a desperate intensity, Sean made Old Man Stroud shrink further into his chair."I’m going to the clinic," Sean said, his voice hard and focused. "I’ll inspect the cure myself. I’m testing the serum’s viability before anyone lays a hand on my sister.""Sean, wait!" Abrill called, but before she could step toward him, he thrust her phone back into her hand.Nova’s voice, calm yet professional, echoed through the speaker. "Sean, listen. You don’t need to test it blindly. My brother and I haven’t worked in a vacuum. This wasn't just a miracle; it was a collaboration.”Sean paused at the door, his hand hovering over the heavy brass handle.“A major international pharmaceutical conglomerate has been developing the base for this gene therapy for years," Nova continued, "but they hit a wall. They lacked the research on Liana’s specific strain.”“They were going to scrap the project. But because you funded it, because you sent those research files from you

The air in the laboratory was so thin it felt as though the sheer weight of the silence had sucked out the oxygen. Sean stood behind the reinforced glass of the observation deck, his knuckles white as he gripped the railing. Below him, Liana lay encased in the glass stabilization pod, the silver serum finally beginning its final, high-velocity infusion into her central nervous system."Initiating the final sequence," Nova whispered, her fingers dancing across the holographic interface. "Neuro-link at 98%... 99%... Synchronization complete."Suddenly, the room erupted in chaos.The monitors, which had been humming with steady, rhythmic pulses, began to shriek. The jagged green lines of Liana’s vitals spiked into a frantic, chaotic mountain range before, with a sickening digital wail, they flattened into a single, unending horizon.00 BPM."She’s flatlining!" Dr. Havel roared, lunging toward the console. "The metabolic shock is too high! Her heart can’t take the rewrite!"Sean’s worl