“And being dramatic doesn’t mean being dependable.” “I know,” Cassandra repeated, tears threatening now. “Princewill didn’t dive into a pool,” Mabel continued. “But he gave you a towel, warmth, apologies, and protection without making it about himself.” Cassandra let out a shaky breath. “When he wrapped the towel around me… I felt safe.” “Exactly.” “But Javier...” “Made you feel important,” Mabel cut in. “There’s a difference.” Cassandra wiped at her eyes. “Why does it still work on me?” “Because he trained you to respond to chaos,” Mabel said gently. “Peace feels unfamiliar. Chaos feels like intensity. And intensity gets mistaken for love.” Cassandra nodded slowly. “So what do I do?” Mabel didn’t answer right away. She studied her best friend carefully. “You don’t run back,” she said finally. “And you don’t punish Princewill for not being Javier.” Cassandra looked up. “Punish him how?” “By hesitating,” Mabel replied. “By keeping him at arm’s length while you

Thiago Andreas had never learned the meaning of enough or giving up. Power, once tasted, did not fade, it only sharpened. And the Black Ledger Circle had always been his or at least that's what he believes. He stood alone in the dimly lit penthouse, city lights bleeding through floor-to-ceiling glass. His phone buzzed once and then again, he simply ignored it. “Still moving like you own the board,” Thiago murmured to himself, swirling the dark liquid in his glass. “You always did, Steven.” A voice came from behind him. “You’ve been quiet lately.” Thiago didn’t turn. “Quiet men live longer.” The man stepped closer. “Or they plot.” Thiago smiled faintly. “Exactly.” Steven had been careless, that was the first thing Thiago noticed. The second was worse. “Dating?” Thiago scoffed days earlier, staring at a blurred surveillance photo on his tablet. “In our world?” His associate leaned forward. “You’re sure it’s him?” “Look at the posture,” Thiago replied calmly.

The Circle adjourned but Steven Kahuna did not feel victorious, somehow he felt hunted. The doors closed behind him with a final, hollow thud. Steven walked alone through the long corridor, his footsteps echoing too loudly for his liking. No guards followed, that absence spoke louder than any accusation. Someone wanted me exposed! Back in his private chamber, Steven loosened his cufflinks and sat heavily in the chair opposite the low fire. The Codex lay on the table where he had left it, its ancient spine still open at Section 69. He stared at it without touching it. “You didn’t save me,” he murmured. “You just bought me time.” His mind replayed the meeting in brutal detail. Luisa’s eyes. The council’s hesitation. The confidence of whoever had reported him—confident enough to believe Section 60 would be final. Steven leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Who would dare?” he asked the silence. The list was short. Painfully short. Only someone with deep know

Princewill didn’t remove his hand immediately. He let it stay there grounding, familiar until Steven’s shoulders finally eased, just a fraction. “Sit,” Princewill said gently this time. “You’re thinking too loudly.” Steven huffed a short laugh and obeyed, sinking into the chair opposite the table. “I didn’t realize I was that obvious.” “You are to me,” Princewill replied. He took the seat across from him, leaning forward. “Talk to me, not as President but as Steven.” Steven stared at the floor for a moment, then looked up. “I hate that he moved without facing me.” Princewill nodded. “Thiago never strikes head-on. He prefers shadows as they make him feel clever.” “He wanted me destabilized,” Steven continued, “Not destroyed, if he wanted blood, Section 69 wouldn’t have mattered.” Princewill’s eyes sharpened. “Meaning this isn’t over.” “No,” Steven said quietly. “It’s just entering its patient phase.” A silence followed—one filled with unspoken memories. All the b

Steven Kahuna did not walk into this meeting unprepared. That alone said everything. The private elevator ascended in silence, smooth and soundless, but his thoughts were anything but. Every calculated move he had ever made for the Black Ledger Circle, every bloodless coup, every unseen war had been easier than this. This wasn’t about power, this was about trust. And worse… a daughter. When the elevator doors slid open, the atmosphere shifted instantly. The Payne estate didn’t announce itself with excessive luxury, there was no screaming wealth, it didn’t need to. Power lived here quietly, settled into the walls like something ancient and watchful. The kind of place that had survived wars, scandals, and men who thought they were untouchable. Steven adjusted his cufflinks—not out of nervousness, but respect. Louisa Payne did not summon people lightly. She commanded them, the doors to the sitting room were already open. She stood by the tall window, her back