Cynthia’s eyes narrowed, and she let out a sharp laugh that carried a mixture of disbelief and irritation. “A chance?” she interrupted, her voice rising with controlled anger. “Kent, do you hear yourself? Give you a chance? Are you serious?” Kent’s jaw tightened, but he kept his composure. “I know this may seem sudden, and I understand your hesitation. But I am asking you—not your father, not anyone else—just me. Let me show you that—” “Show me what?” Cynthia cut in sharply, stepping closer to him, her bag swinging slightly by her side. “That I should throw my entire life away and marry into a family known for their influence, power, and... and criminal ties? Kent, if I were out of my mind, perhaps I would consider it. But I am not. I am thinking clearly, and for as long as I remain in my right mind, I would sooner marry a complete stranger off the streets, a lunatic even, than agree to be married to you.” The words struck like a whip across Kent’s carefully maintai

Robert Adams was seated in the living room, reviewing some paperwork when Kent barged in. The moment Robert looked up and saw Kent’s flushed face and trembling hands, he set the documents aside.“Kent,” Robert called cautiously, “what happened?”Kent whirled around, breathing heavily. “You want to know what happened?” he spat. “I’ll tell you what happened. I tried. I tried to be patient, tried to be polite, tried to meet her father halfway. And what did I get? Embarrassment! Humiliation!”Robert remained calm, folding his arms. “Sit down and explain.”Kent did not sit; instead he paced, each movement more intense than the last. “She insulted me, Dad. Cynthia insulted me in front of her father. She looked me straight in the eye and said she would rather marry a criminal or a lunatic on the street than even consider marrying me.”Robert blinked, stunned. “She said that?”Kent slammed his hand into the wooden edge of the table. “Word for word! As if I’m some worthless piece of dirt!

The call connected on the third ring.Robert Adams straightened in his chair, his expression settling into the cold calm that had earned him both fear and influence in Gelrith City. He did not bother with pleasantries. The man on the other end already knew who he was.“I’m calling about Cynthia Morris,” Robert said slowly. “The real daughter of Elias Greyson.”There was a brief pause on the line, the kind that came when someone recognized a name heavy with meaning.“I know her,” the voice replied carefully.“Good,” Robert said. “Then you also know what she represents.”Silence followed again, thicker this time.Robert leaned back, his fingers tapping against the armrest. “Cynthia Morris is more than Elias Greyson’s daughter. She is tied—legally and strategically—to the Morris family’s possessions. Assets. Holdings. Influence.” His eyes hardened. “Things that should already have changed hands.”The man listened.“I want her for my son, Kent,” Robert continued. “Not out of affection.

Antonio had begun the cultivation, focusing on the energy that surged from the relic, letting it guide his thoughts, expand his senses, and strengthen his body and mind. The room seemed to shrink around him as he felt himself entering a heightened state, attuned to forces he had never experienced before. He was tracing faint lines of energy, learning to channel the hidden power that had been waiting in his bloodline, waiting for him to awaken. The cultivation was demanding, but he welcomed it. Every nerve in his body tingled as he felt his awareness sharpen, senses becoming acutely attuned to even the slightest shift in his surroundings. Then, suddenly, his phone rang. The vibration cut through the growing stillness of his concentration like an alarm bell. Antonio opened his eyes and grabbed the phone. His heart sank immediately as he saw Cynthia's name flashing across the screen. He picked up quickly, the momentary calm of his cultivation shattered. “Antonio!” Cynt

The man’s voice grew colder than before.“You bitch! You are going to pay for everything you’ve done.”Cynthia lifted her head slowly, her heartbeat thundering in her ears so loudly she was certain he could hear it. Each pulse echoed with fear, confusion, and disbelief.Her body felt heavy, as though the weight of his words had pressed her deeper into the floor beneath her.Her eyes searched his face, desperate to recognize even the smallest detail—a scar, a familiar gaze, anything that might tell her who stood before her. But it was useless. A dark mask covered him completely, smooth and impenetrable, hiding every trace of identity. Even his eyes were concealed behind tinted lenses that reflected nothing back at her, as if he were less a man and more a shadow given form.She swallowed hard and strained to listen more closely, hoping his voice might betray him. But even that offered no comfort. It sounded distorted, mechanical, altered in a way that made it impossible to trace it