Helena folded her arms across her chest, her gaze sharp as she tapped her fingers against the sleek surface of the large projector in her room.“He knows about the order,” Helena muttered, voice low but cutting through the tension like a knife.“I told you the other day—some weeks ago, actually. I called and warned you, but you dismissed me. He even has our necklace!” Dario snapped from the screen, frustration dripping from every word.“Who has misplaced his necklace?” Helena asked, arching a brow.“I still have mine with me. Want me to show you?” Dario shot back, unwavering.“Harrington?” Helena’s voice cut through again. “What about yours?”Harrington held his up.“Do you have something to tell us?” Helena pressed, eyes narrowing as she studied Harrington’s body language. “He was married to your daughter for about three years. You should know him by now.”“Let's just kill him,” Harrington muttered, the words h

Helena laughed, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “That was funny.” Charles glanced at her, grin teasing. “The second thing I do is flirt with women. Basically my real talent.” “You seem like the kind of guy who marries a lot of women,” she said, smirking back. “Unfortunately, no. I don’t plan on ever getting married. The guy who was supposed to be my best man… is dead.” “Your brother?” Helena asked gently. “Yeah. I was supposed to be his best man, and he was supposed to be mine.” “You must have been very close,” she said softly. “Think of it like what you had with your husband before he died. Do you miss him?” “Yeah… of course. I never thought about marrying again… but I think I’m thinking about it now.” “Because of me?” Charles asked, not looking up from the flowers he tended. “Yeah. I wouldn’t mind marrying a young man. You’d be free too… able to flirt with as many girls as you want. Nothing to be jealous of here.” “And what exactly are we doing if we get married?” He gla

By 12 a.m., Charles slipped out of bed. Two minutes earlier, he’d received a message from the old man in the other room, confirming that everything was on schedule.He opened the door quietly. Maybe it was because his deception had worked—Helena truly believed he was harmless—but there were no workers in sight. That made Charles even more cautious. A woman who could sleep this soundly without guards… either didn’t value life much or simply wasn’t afraid of death.He moved five feet from the door and opened the laundry basket Helena had said he could use. Inside was a black package. He lifted it out. A gun.He checked it, loaded. Looked around. To minimize noise and hassle, he’d stripped to his underwear. Perfect disguise if Helena suddenly turned suspicious.He padded toward her door. A movement caught his eye—he froze. A faint snap. The secret signal from the old man.He crept closer.“Her door isn’t locked,” the old man whispered into his ear in the dark. Must have been doing this f

“I’m a mentee of your cousin, Lauren Wyatt. In this closed online group—only fifty of us. Someone asked about you, and she mentioned a few things. I connected the dots, nearly lost my mind, but… I found you.” “What kind of group is that?” “I’m going to be a model. I paid a huge sum to get in. My parents are still salty about it.” She said parents again. Sadie hesitated. Charles’ uncle had claimed all his family was dead. If that was true, then who was this girl really? “Thanks, ma’am. This juice hits,” Charlotte said after taking a gulp. Sadie smiled faintly. “You’re done with high school?” “Almost done with college,” Charlotte replied proudly. “Two more years.” “That’s not almost,” Sadie laughed. “I could have kids before then.” Charlotte laughed. “That’s how I like to think about it. Does Charles live with you too?” Her eyes swept across the room. “Um… actually, back at my place, yeah—we stay together. But here, no.” “Please, can you call him? Maybe a video call?” she aske

Charles woke up with a dull, pounding ache at the back of his head. The light was too much. He groaned, squeezed his eyes shut, then forced them open again. He blinked until his vision steadied. Nothing looked familiar. But somehow, it didn’t scare him — not the way it should. He’d been through scenes like this before. When you’ve spent half your life in danger, even chaos starts to feel like routine. Pain flared through his body as he stood. He looked around again. This wasn’t Helena’s compound. He reached into his pocket out of instinct — his hand brushed against something small. A recorder. He pressed play. “Hey, dear,” Helena’s voice purred through the speaker. “I don’t normally do this, but you’re… extraordinary. You’re the first man since my husband died who managed to wake the sexual side of me again. I would’ve loved to keep you by my side at all cost… but I don’t want to do that to a kind soul like you. Otherwise, wiping your memory would’ve been enough.” She laughed s