Niccolo had never known what it felt like to truly breathe until the day the money came through. Thirty million dollars. Even now, more than a week later, the number didn’t sound real when he repeated it in his head.Thirty Million.The figures kept flashing in his mind like neon lights, and with them came both freedom and fear. Freedom, because he was no longer the broken man his wife discarded like trash. Fear, because he had seen how quickly life could take everything away.The first thing he did was move. No more temporary rooms with peeling paint and thin mattresses that smelled of someone else’s perfume. He wanted a place that was his, a place where he could close the door and not feel like a guest in his own skin.The agent he contacted had raised an eyebrow when Niccolo told him his budget, but Niccolo quickly reminded him that he wasn’t interested in mansions or sprawling penthouses. Not yet. He wanted something clean, modern, comfortable —something where he could think.Afte

Niccolo paced around in his apartment, the floor creaking softly beneath his restless footsteps. The meeting with Ariana and her parents still haunted him like a half forgotten dream. Their words echoed in his mind— her mother's intimidating gaze, Ariana’s sudden confession, the mayor’s heavy promise of two wishes, everything felt all impossible to believe. He stopped by the window, leaning on the frame, staring at the gray city skyline. What would he even ask for? Power? Wealth? Revenge? He had thirty million already, but even that felt temporary, fragile. What if he asked for something that made him untouchable, a man no one could humiliate ever again? His chest tightened as thoughts of Kimberly came unbidden —her laughter, the betrayal, her face in the arms of another man. That wound was still fresh, no matter how much he tried to cover it with plans and money. Maybe one of his wishes could be to erase that shame. Or maybe to make every woman who ever looked down on him regret it