Lorenzo stepped into his villa, the polished marble floors reflecting the dim golden glow of the chandelier above. The place was quiet, almost unnervingly so, but that was exactly how he wanted it after such a long day.Just three hours ago, he had been seated comfortably inside his private jet, soaring from Italy back to Velmoria. The flight had been smooth, but his mind wasn’t. He had just concluded a meeting with one of Italy’s most feared mafia lords, Don Malachai Vercetti. Deals with men like Malachai were never simple handshakes; they carried consequences, risks, and rewards that could make or destroy an empire.This time, the reward was staggering. They had closed a deal together and split the profit—10 billion US dollars, divided equally.But enormous profits came with enormous shadows. The sum was far too large to take directly to the bank. Lorenzo knew the Velmorian Authority would never overlook a sudden deposit of such magnitude. A single day transaction like that would ra

Isla gulped down a whole bottle of whisky.She was not the type to drink, but tonight was different. Tonight, only whisky could bury the weight of her frustration. The bitter liquid burned down her throat, yet the fire inside her chest was much stronger than the alcohol.She sat on the couch all night, motionless, staring into the city through the glassy wall. She had drawn back the curtains earlier just so she could see the bright lights flooding the night sky and bouncing off the streets below. The city seemed alive, yet she felt like the only one in it who was suffocating.Her thoughts spiraled endlessly, restless like a student preparing to defend her lifelong project before respected judges at dawn. Every possible scenario, every regret, every fear kept circling her mind.She could not ignore the truth: Lucas Virelis had already declared his love for Jeruel. To approach him again, to beg, would no longer be seen as persistence but harassment. The humiliation alone would break her

Jeruel walked through the hallway behind Anastasia, her personal assistant. They were too deep in their conversation about the event that would soon begin that day to notice the shadow lingering at the edge of the hallway, silently staring at them. The air carried a faint tension, but their voices drowned it out.Anastasia reached the office door and pulled the handle down. The door clicked open, and she stepped inside with Jeruel right behind her, their words spilling into the room like they carried their own rhythm.She paused once inside, her brow furrowed. “There has been a little bit of change here,” she said softly, though there was weight in her tone. Jeruel walked forward, listening.Anastasia had been the last to leave the building yesterday. Jeruel had gone to see Lucas, finally, their first official date as lovers. It had been perfect, a night carefully etched into memory, which left Anastasia in charge of locking up and making sure everything was in order. She was diligent

Seventeen years ago, on Micah’s 8th birthday, he was just smiling and dancing in the middle of his own party organised for him by his grandparents. The laughter of children filled the air, balloons floated along the ceiling, and the cake sat proudly on the decorated table. Yet, all of Micah’s joy halted the very moment his father stepped into the hall.For many reasons, one of which was the lack of affection, Micah believed, deeply and unshakably believed, that his father did not care about him. Every little gesture of kindness seemed absent, every word from his father seemed cold.Still, Micah had spent years trying to earn even a trace of his approval. He did everything he could to please him. He made sure to become the best player at the golf competition, pushing himself harder than the rest. He made sure to be the strongest player on the basketball court, sweating and training tirelessly. But none of it impressed Lorenzo. His father’s face remained rigid, unreadable, impossible to

Lucas stepped out of his car and gazed at the tall structure in front of him.Jeruel’s Fashion HUB stood boldly written in gleaming 3D letters across the top wall of the building. The sign seemed to shimmer under the dim streetlights, as if announcing his arrival. His eyes shifted quickly from the back side of the building to the front door, tracing every detail with intent focus.“The front door is unlocked,” he murmured under his breath, narrowing his eyes at the handle.He knew this place well. He had been here countless times, even before the fashion hub was properly set up. Lucas also knew how tight and stubborn that lock usually was. When secured, it was impossible to miss. From the slight angle of the door, left cracked open just enough to catch the eye, he didn’t need to try the handle to know. It was definitely open.A thought tugged at him. Perhaps it was Isla who had left it that way, deliberately removing obstacles so he would step inside without hesitation. That possibilit