Charlotte was still smiling faintly from hearing that Chloe was alive when her phone lit up again.The number on the screen was unfamiliar.She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the green button. But before she could answer, the call ended.A second later, her phone buzzed again—this time, a text message.Her breath caught as she read it:> Warn your husband to stay away from whatever involves his family, unless he wants to die. That goes for you and your daughter too.Charlotte’s fingers trembled around the phone. The words seemed to pulse on the screen, each one seeping into her chest like ice. Someone knew about Chloe. Someone knew about Logan. And now… someone was threatening their lives.Her first instinct was to call Logan immediately, but she stopped herself. Her mind was racing. If she told him now, he would come storming back, reckless and furious, and with Chloe’s condition, the last thing they needed was more chaos.Still, fear gnawed at her. Whoever sent that message kn

Logan ignored the doctor’s shouting as if the man’s voice were nothing more than background noise. His focus was locked entirely on the man lying weak and pale before him—his father.He lifted the small porcelain cup to his father’s lips and gently tilted it, letting the bitter herbal infusion flow slowly into his mouth. His father made a faint noise, but swallowed, sip after sip. Logan’s movements were calm and deliberate, but inside, his blood boiled.When the last drop was gone, Logan set the cup aside and watched closely.A few minutes passed. Then, almost imperceptibly, his father’s chest rose a little more steadily. His breathing wasn’t as ragged. A sheen of cold sweat broke across his forehead, and Logan recognized the sign—some of the poison was leaving his system.Moments later, the smell in the air shifted, and Logan saw the doctor stiffen in surprise. The herbs were working.Still, Logan knew it wasn’t enough. The bulk of the toxin remained buried deep inside his father’s b

Logan crouched in the shadows, his eyes narrowing as he observed the two men whispering at the far end of the corridor. They thought themselves safe, hidden away in the quiet recesses of the hospital, far from watchful eyes. But Logan had been trained to notice the slightest shift in behavior, the faintest hint of guilt. And from the way the men spoke in hushed tones, from the way they exchanged glances with unease, he knew they were involved in something darker than they wanted to admit.The men were completely unaware that Logan had been watching them all along. They leaned against the wall, their voices low but sharp enough for Logan to catch every poisonous word.“…if we add a little more next time, it will surely finish him off,” one whispered, his tone steady but laced with malice.The second nodded nervously. “But what if someone begins to suspect? That boy… Logan. He’s been coming around too often, and he seems too clever for his own good.”The first man sneered. “Don’t wor

The atmosphere in the grand auction hall was electric, buzzing with murmurs and flashing glances as some of the city’s wealthiest men and women filled the rows. Luxury cars lined the parking lot outside—sleek black limousines, sports cars that gleamed under the lights, and custom SUVs that screamed of affluence. Logan, however, had arrived quietly, blending into the crowd with nothing more than his modest attire and a calm expression.When the first bidding began, Logan had surprised everyone with his confident raise of the placard, announcing a figure far higher than what anyone expected. His former classmates, sitting close to the high table with the elites, exchanged amused looks. To them, Logan had always been the quiet boy in school, one who rarely flaunted anything. Seeing him here, competing against the city’s most powerful, they couldn’t fathom how he dared.Almost immediately, a whisper started making its way around the hall: “He must be pretending.”“There’s no way Logan

Harry Sullivan sat in his study that night, the lamp on his mahogany desk burning low, its glow casting sharp shadows across his stern face. His jaw was locked tight, his fingers drumming against the polished wood. The name “Charlotte” hissed in his mind like venom. Every success she had built seemed to mock him, to spit in his face.Elysian Bloom had risen again, stronger than before, and the Sullivan family was crumbling in reputation. The partnerships Charlotte had secured, the branches she had opened, the recognition she had earned—all of it cut him like blades. His own daughter had been stripped away from leadership, and now, Charlotte’s name was whispered with reverence across Elleville City and beyond.Harry had always prided himself on being a man of control, but tonight, he was a man on the brink.He reached for the small black phone that lay beside him—a line he seldom used, one connected not to business partners, not to society elites, but to men who operated where shad