“I dropped out of college,” Damien began, shrugging, “‘cause I wanted to make mama and papa proud. Do more than dad ever did. I flopped. Reality smacked me in the face. Two months later, I ran my ass back to school, reading like I was about to go crazy for the exams.”Charles chuckled. “Hey, man, you didn’t even give luck a chance. Nobody blows up in two months. Hell, even a year is barely enough to think straight.”“I was scared shitless, man. My ol’ man would stare at me whenever I went into his office, like he’d blow my head off if I said the wrong thing. Couldn’t ask for money either, and my credit card? Maxed. Totally maxed. Embarrassingly maxed.”“Dang!” Charles exclaimed.“Had to beg Hailey for cash. And that brat—last-born energy, you know—used the moment to remind me she matters. She was giving me a motivational lecture. Man, I almost screamed. Couldn’t, though. Just nodded like an obedient fool.”Charles leaned back, smirking. “

She didn’t respond. She simply walked toward the building and pressed her palm against a panel on the gate. Two seconds later, it slid open on its own. Hardin hesitated. A house where only Natasha’s palm could open the gate? Was it really a good idea for him to go inside? She was too unpredictable—sometimes she acted like she was on something. “Come in,” she called from inside. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. She seemed desperate for his help now. She wouldn’t dare try anything crazy. At least, he hoped not. He stepped inside. The gate closed behind him immediately. “I got this house for half a billion last year,” she said casually, “and it’s been the best investment of my life. I could rent it out for a hundred million dollars a year now. People have offered even more, but I haven’t decided to give it up.” Hardin nodded, looking around. The way she jumped from plotting revenge to talking real estate was insane, but he nodded anyway. “If you don’t sell it, we cou

They planned deep into the night, mapping routes and contingencies, eventually agreeing to meet again early the next morning at the man’s place, where his private jet would take them to the port where he’d secured their ship.On his way back home that night, Charles’ phone buzzed. Hardin.“Sir… I’m sorry…” Hardin’s voice trembled.“Should I ask what you did before you tell me?” Charles asked flatly.“Please help me, sir. Lauren… she’s… been locked up by Natasha.”“What business do you have with Lauren, by the way?”“Sir, she’s been in a coma for the past forty-eight hours.”“And what am I supposed to do with that information?” Charles asked flippantly, annoyed. Silence stretched across the line.Then: “Sir, I’m sorry. I should’ve reported everything I found out about Lauren’s plan toward Sadie.”“Why are you just telling me now, Hardin? Damien already gave me the full briefing. Told me everything you knew about her plans last night — but you didn’t mention a thing to me. Are you scar

Hungary greeted them with a biting wind and a sky the color of cold steel. A ship would’ve taken weeks, so they settled for a private jet — made possible by the crazy old man and the woman he insisted they call “A.” Getting here without crashing felt like a miracle. Or maybe not. Sometimes you keep a prey alive just long enough to deal with it properly. The road curved through stretches of dark pine trees, the kind that swallowed sound instead of echoing it back. Helena’s rest house stood alone on a hill — old stone, old wood, old secrets. It didn’t just look ancient… it felt ancient, like the walls had memorized every scream they’d ever heard. Charles and the man were ushered straight into the living room. Charles had practically rehearsed how to beg outside to enter with this lunatic, yet the guards opened the gate without hesitation — and now everything flowed effortlessly, as if they’d been expected. “Have your seat, sir,” the houseworker said with a pleasant smile before slip