The stars danced across the shimmering surface of Lake Emerald, their silver light spilling across the night sky like diamonds. At the water's edge, a soft wind stirred the grass, bringing with it the aroma of chocolate icing, roasted meat, and something even sweeter—happiness. For six-year-old Andrew, this was the perfect night. His birthday. His mother’s arms around him. The sound of laughter echoing from their secluded picnic spot. Nothing could ruin it.Or so he believed.Six-year-old Andrew grinned ear to ear as he spun in circles on the picnic blanket, his laughter echoing across the clearing. His baby brother, Richard, cooed from his basket nearby, waving tiny fists in the air. Their mother, Elena, knelt beside a carefully decorated cake—chocolate fudge with swirls of cream and strawberries—arranging candles in the shape of a six.“Easy, Andrew! You’ll trip,” she chuckled, brushing a strand of dark hair from her eyes. She wore a pale blue dress that danced in the wind, and her

The city had changed.Taller buildings now pierced the sky where modest ones once stood. The roads buzzed louder. Everything moved faster, yet somehow, the house that once held his childhood still stood at the end of the cul-de-sac, untouched by time—except for the new layer of polished cruelty that seemed to hang in the air like perfume.Andrew stood at the front gate, his feet unmoving, his eyes locked on the ornate black iron that separated him from the past. On his back, Richard lay bundled in a woolen wrap, still comatose, still unhealed. Behind him, the taxi driver watched with awkward patience, unsure whether to drive off or wait for payment. Andrew paid him and he drove off. But then, Andrew lingered. Not because he was unsure—but because he knew once that gate opened, his life would never close again.He pressed the buzzer.Static. Then a female voice, cold and clipped.“Yes?”Andrew leaned toward the speaker. “Tell him… his sons has come back alive”A moment of silence. Then

The rain tapped softly against the tall windows of the study like it was trying to warn her. Carina sat behind Roger’s grand mahogany desk—her throne now—with a cigarette burning slowly in the crystal ashtray. She never used to smoke, not when Roger was alive. But lately, she needed something to fill the growing hollowness inside her.Papers were strewn across the desk, most marked in red. Rejected. Denied. Frozen. A towering pile of unopened legal letters sat to the left, each envelope a reminder that although she wore the crown now, the kingdom was still shackled. Roger’s accounts, tied up in legal disputes. Assets frozen. Access blocked pending estate proceedings.She tapped a manicured nail against her wine glass, her eyes trailing to an email from Olivia’s school, St. Delphina’s Academy of Arts, blinking impatiently on the laptop screen.Urgent Reminder: Tuition Payment Overdue.Final Deadline: 7 Days.Her throat tightened.“Of course,” she muttered bitterly. “They’ll teach your

The next day, Edward summoned Andrew to his private wing.“You’re becoming quite the legend,” Edward said, sipping dark wine. “The men fear you. They admire you. Even Victor—though he’d die before saying it.”Andrew didn’t respond. He just stood still, eyes cold and unreadable.“I like you,” Edward continued. “But loyalty is a fragile thing. I hope you remember who you owe.”Andrew’s jaw tightened. “You own the contract. Not my soul.”Edward grinned. “We’ll see.”Edward smirked, then slid a thick envelope across the glass desk.Andrew stepped forward slowly. His fingers curled around the wax seal and cracked it open. Inside, a single sheet of cream-colored paper, crisp and clean, marked only with a name... and a face.The moment he read it, the breath caught in his throat.Target: Yuan Shen.Location: Shanghai.The room seemed to tilt. His grip on the paper tightened.Edward leaned back, eyes glinting like a predator enjoying the moment his prey realizes the trap. “Surprised?”Andrew’

Rain still clung to Andrew's skin like a second layer of punishment as he knelt in the mud, arms raised, chest heaving. Edward’s cold, shaking hands held the gun steady, or at least tried to. But it wasn’t the storm, or the blood, or the fear of death that made Andrew’s heart race. It was the shadow that had just split the moment like a knife.The gunshot had come from nowhere. Edward had screamed, dropping the weapon, his fingers pierced with pain. The pistol landed in the wet dirt with a dull thud. Andrew turned, instinct snapping into action. His eyes searched the darkness. The silhouette stepped forward slowly, unbothered by the gun still at Edward’s feet or the weight of the stares locked on him.Lightning flashed—and for a moment, the shadow became a man.Edward’s eyes widened in disbelief, lips trembling.“Mr Frank?” he gasped.Andrew rose slightly from his kneeling position, brows pulled together, mind scrambling to catch up.“You couldn’t have come to rescue me, Frank,” Andre