Finn sat in the corner of the cold, sterile room, the white walls reflecting the harsh glow of the neon lights. His body was thin, but the aura he projected far outweighed his frame. He leaned back, hands folded in his lap, lips curling into a thin smile—a smile that was neither friendly nor warm, but full of secrets and simmering revenge.Softly, he began to hum—not a tune for amusement, but a melody only he could understand: the rhythm of anger stitched into a false calm. Every note, every word he hummed was a reminder—four years ago, his life had been destroyed by the people he loved, by a wife who stabbed him in the back, by a family that laughed at him at his lowest moment.A nurse passed by, her expression tightening at the sight of Finn.“Finn…” she said, her voice trembling. “Today… you can leave. The doctor signed the certificate—you’re considered sane.”Finn stared at her, eyes sharp as blades. He rose slowly, each movement deliberate, despite his frail body. He took the cer

The room was dark except for the faint golden glow of the chandelier above. Finn lay sprawled across the enormous silk sheets, his chest rising and falling slowly. His body was exhausted, yet his mind was anything but still. Sleep came heavy, dragging him into its depths like an undertow.And then the nightmare began.It was four years ago—sharp, vivid, cruel. Rain poured in relentless sheets, soaking his thin shirt until it clung to his skin. Two men in white uniforms held his arms, their grips like iron shackles. Finn fought with every ounce of strength, kicking, screaming, but their hold only tightened.“Let me go!” he roared, his voice breaking against the storm. “I’m not crazy! I’m not—!”The men ignored him. Their faces were blank, professional, as if his desperation meant nothing. They dragged him toward a black van waiting by the curb, its doors yawning open like the mouth of a beast.And then he saw them.Daniella. His wife. Her hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of

The Walton family’s living room felt taut with tension that afternoon. Heavy burgundy drapes were drawn tight across the windows; only the chandelier’s crystal glow lit the space. Daniella sat in an upholstered chair, legs crossed with practiced grace, but her fingers kept tapping the armrest. Hans stood nearby, lighting a cigar, face set in thought. Christy, the mother, folded her arms around herself and watched her daughter with a look that mixed anger and worry.“Tomorrow… he’s actually going to stand at the altar with Ruth Callahan,” Daniella whispered, as if she could still not believe what had happened.Hans exhaled a cloud of smoke lazily. “I don’t get it either. How could a woman like Ruth choose a man like Finn? A nobody, a lunatic.”Christy slammed her palm against the arm of her chair. “That can’t happen! Do you know what this means? If Finn really marries Ruth, all the access, all the clout, all the investments we’ve been chasing will fall into his hands. He will be above

Camera flashes, headlines and social media gossip exploded just hours after Ruth Callahan’s wedding.“Ruth Callahan Marries Former Asylum Patient?!”“Scandal or True Love Story?”“Finn Hargrove, The Mysterious Man Who Became the Heir’s Husband.”Those stories spread everywhere — from cheap gossip sites to major business outlets. Every word felt like a knife in Finn’s chest. He sat in Ruth’s study, head bowed, fingers twisting a crumpled wedding invitation.“This is insane…” Finn muttered, his voice hoarse. “They’re all going to believe Daniella. Everyone will think I’m just—”“—a madman who happened to marry a rich woman?” Ruth cut in, calm but cold. She stepped in carrying a glass of white wine. “Finn, look at me.”Finn raised his face. Panic and despair showed in his eyes. “You don’t understand. The media can destroy everything. They’ll keep digging. I…” He bowed his head again, voice breaking. “I might drag you down with me.”Ruth set her glass on the desk and stood directly in fro

In one of the private rooms separated by frosted glass, Finn, Daniella, Hans, and Albrecht sat around a velvet-draped round table.Daniella’s sharp gaze lingered on Finn, who seemed perfectly at ease conversing with Albrecht.“Mr. Callahan,” Albrecht said, regarding Finn with respect. “I must be honest—I worked with Ruth’s late father for many years. And now, seeing Ruth choose you as CEO… I’m curious. What is your vision for Callahan Group, particularly regarding this new government partnership?”Finn set his spoon down slowly and met Albrecht’s eyes with calm composure.“My vision is simple, Mr. Albrecht. Transparency, the courage to take risks, and a focus on emerging markets. Callahan Group has grown far too comfortable in its traditional zones. It’s time to think bigger.”Daniella smirked, her gold-adorned fingers tapping the rim of her glass.“Think bigger? Don’t be ridiculous, Finn. You spent the last four years locked up in a cramped asylum. What could you possibly know about