The hotel room was quiet after Raphael Andreas left. Andrew Tate stood motionless for several moments, his eyes fixed on the closed door. The room was warm, clean, and safe—a stark contrast to the cold concrete cell he had occupied only an hour earlier. Fresh clothes covered his bruised body, and the cuts on his face had finally been cleaned, but none of that occupied his mind. He was thinking about Juliana. She had no idea he was free. She was probably lying awake in her room at the Andreas estate, believing he was still chained inside Marcelo's compound, wondering whether he was alive or dead. Andrew let out a slow breath and walked over to the small table where Raphael had left the envelope. He opened it once more. Alongside the cash and hotel key was a prepaid mobile phone. A faint smile touched his lips. Raphael truly had thought of everything. He switched the phone on. It took only a few seconds to boot up. There was just one contact saved. Juliana. For a l

The silence that followed was suffocating. No one moved. The morning sun still poured through the tall windows of the study, illuminating the shattered pieces of crystal scattered across the polished floor. It was almost ironic how peaceful the room looked compared to the storm brewing within it. Raphael stood with his hands calmly at his sides, meeting his father's gaze without arrogance and without fear. He knew there would be consequences. He had accepted them the moment he decided to walk into Marcelo's compound. Thiago continued looking at him, searching his eldest son's face for something—regret, perhaps. An apology. Instead, he found only quiet conviction. "Explain yourself," he said at last. His voice was calm again. Too calm. Raphael drew a slow breath before speaking. "I knew you would never approve." "No," Thiago replied. "I wouldn't." "So I didn't ask." Emiliano let out a disbelieving laugh. "You didn't ask?" Raphael turned to his younge

By late afternoon, the Andreas estate had settled into its usual rhythm. Guards rotated their shifts with military precision. Luxury vehicles came and went through the front gates, while servants carried on with their duties as though nothing extraordinary had happened over the past few days. It was exactly the kind of routine Juliana needed. Routine made people careless. She stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, staring at her reflection. "This is a terrible idea," she whispered. Yet even as she said the words, she was already reaching for a light jacket. She needed to see him. Not over the phone. Not through messages. She needed to know with her own eyes that Andrew was truly safe. Quietly, she slipped out of her room. Instead of using the grand staircase, she took the servants' corridor she had known since childhood. It wound behind the walls of the mansion and led toward the rear gardens, a passage she and Raphael had often used as children whene

Three days passed without incident. The Andreas estate gradually settled into an uneasy peace. Thiago immersed himself in work, Emiliano buried himself in security operations, and Raphael quietly resumed overseeing the family businesses, though his eyes seemed to linger on his younger sister more often than before. He had become even more protective. Not because he wanted to control Juliana. But because he had nearly lost her once. That fear had refused to leave him. Late that morning, Raphael was reviewing documents in his office when a soft knock sounded against the door. "Come in." The door opened, and Juliana peeked inside with an innocent smile. Raphael looked up from the papers and immediately smiled back. "What is it?" She stepped inside, clasping her hands behind her back. "I wanted to tell you something." Raphael leaned back in his chair. Whenever Juliana wore that expression, it usually meant she was about to ask for something. "I'm listening.

Andrew remained standing by the window for several seconds after the call ended. His grip around the phone tightened until his knuckles turned white. Every instinct he had developed over years of dangerous work screamed the same warning. Marcelo knew. The old crime lord hadn't asked whether Juliana was with him because he was curious. Men like Don Marcelo never asked questions they didn't already knew the answers to. That meant someone had seen her. Someone had followed her. Or worse... Someone was still watching. Andrew slowly closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe. Don't panic. If you panic... she'll notice. When he finally turned around, the hard expression on his face had completely disappeared. In its place was the familiar gentle smile Juliana loved. She looked at him curiously. "Who was it?" Andrew slipped the phone into his pocket as naturally as he could. "No one important." She tilted her head. "You don't look convinced." He chu