Elias sat alone in his study, a quiet room tucked behind the east wing of his estate. A glass of untouched scotch rested near his elbow. He didn’t drink while working—just liked the look of it.The tablet in front of him displayed quarterly reports. Supply chain delays. And the usual chaos of numbers. He scrolled through it slowly.Then he picked up his phone and dialed.“Adams,” he said when the line clicked.A pause. Then the voice answered.“Sir. Good evening. Everything all right?”“Just needed an update,” Elias said, leaning back in his chair. “How’s the vendor reconciliation going?”Adams cleared his throat. “On it now, sir. I’ve been at the downtown office since morning. Still compiling the figures from East Asia’s procurement files. Should have it on your desk by tonight.”“Hm,” Elias said simply.Elias glanced at the corner of his screen—camera feed showed his private office was empty. Quiet.Few seconds of silence passed.“You’re at the office now?”“Yes, sir. Just wrappi

Elias sighed, turning back to the quiet of the boutique, realizing that peace wasn’t something he could bargain for tonight. Not while she was still standing there.“Trying to pretend you belong, are you? Walking in like some prince when you’re nothing more than a gutter rat in borrowed clothes.” He kept his eyes fixed on the midnight-blue dress he was holding, pretending not to hear. But she pressed on.“Do you really think showing up in a place like this is going to make people forget who you are? Or who you aren’t?” Her lips curled in a cruel smile. “You look like someone who’s been scraping by on handouts.”Elias turned slowly,meeting her sharp, sneering gaze.Miranda stepped forward, heels clicking. “Honestly, I’m surprised they even let you in here. I mean, look at you. You couldn’t afford the cheapest thing in this store if you begged on the street.”She gestured around the boutique, here voice rising so other customers could hear. “You degrade this place just by breathing it