The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, cold and sterile, bouncing off the cement walls of the maximum-security wing. The clanging of metal doors and distant shouts echoed through the corridors, a constant reminder of the world she was trapped in.Laura sat on the edge of her narrow bed, hands clenched into fists, when the guard slid a folded newspaper under her cell door.“Morning delivery,” he muttered, barely looking at her.Laura’s eyes snapped to the paper. Her heart beat faster, a mixture of anticipation and dread. She tore it open, scanning the bold headlines:> Billionaire Son Andrea Konstanio Flees Country for Private Wedding with Fiancée GracieAndrea Konstanio’s Secret Marriage Abroad – Private Jet Escape Raises QuestionsHer eyes widened, and for a moment, she simply stared. Then the anger hit, hot and unrelenting, like a wave crashing over her.“What the hell is this?” she hissed under her breath.A fellow inmate glanced up from across the cell block. “What’s wrong?”Laur

Chapter 197 The call stayed with Andrea long after the line went dead.Someone who once financed Nikolai.That meant two thing's Andrea stood by the window of his office long past midnight, city lights burning below like a living organism. Chloe sat across from him, laptop open, fingers flying.“I traced the investor forum post,” she said without looking up. “It was routed through three shells. Clean. Professional. Prison-level access shouldn’t be able to pull this off alone.”Andrea’s voice was low. “So Laura is the mouthpiece, not the brain.”Chloe finally looked up. “Or she’s the catalyst. Someone’s amplifying her.”Andrea turned slowly. “Then we stop the amplification.”Gracie didn’t sleep that night.She sat on the terrace, wrapped in a thin shawl, staring at the garden lights. The honeymoon glow had faded too quickly, replaced by a familiar tension crawling back under her skin.Andrea joined her quietly, handing her a cup of tea.“You don’t have to carry this,” he said.Gracie

Chapter 199Constantine Vale did not wake up angry.He woke up curious.That alone should have terrified everyone.From the top floor of a private residence that did not officially exist, Vale stood barefoot before a wall of glass, watching the city breathe beneath him. He hadn’t slept. He rarely did when the game shifted.Andrea Konstanio had made a call.Not to him.That was the problem.Vale lifted a tablet, scrolling through updates that his people fed him in real time—currency movements, boardroom whispers, intelligence leaks that hadn’t reached the press yet.Konstanio assets were stabilizing.That wasn’t supposed to happen.“Interesting,” Vale murmured.Behind him, a man cleared his throat. “Sir… he’s not reacting the way Nikolai did.”Vale smiled faintly. “Of course not. Nikolai needed to be feared.”He turned slowly.“Andrea Konstanio needs to be believed.”That was far more dangerous.“Prepare a personal invitation,” Vale said calmly. “Not hostile. Not aggressive.”The aide

Andrea didn’t wait for Gracie to return home.He went to the security room.Every screen in the Konstanio estate was alive—feeds from the perimeter, offshore accounts scrolling, phone intercepts updating in real time. Luca stood beside him, tense.“She didn’t trigger the emergency exit,” Luca said. “That means she chose to stay.”Andrea’s jaw tightened—not in anger, but in calculation.“She wouldn’t ignore my signal unless she needed information,” Andrea said. “Vale said something.”Luca hesitated. “Do you want us to pull her out anyway?”Andrea stared at the screen showing the tea room garden—empty now.“No,” he said quietly. “If I interrupt, Vale wins. If I trust her… we might.”That was the difference now.Andrea no longer stood alone.Gracie arrived just after dusk.No drama. No security breach. Just her, walking through the front doors like the world hadn’t tried to tilt beneath her feet.Andrea was already there.They looked at each other for a long moment—measuring, grounding,

Andrea didn’t open the flash drive immediately.That alone told Chloe how serious it was.Most men in his position would’ve devoured it the second it touched their desk. Andrea didn’t. He poured a drink he didn’t touch, stood by the window, and watched the city pretend it wasn’t holding its breath.“What if it changes everything?” Chloe asked quietly.Andrea finally turned. “Then everything needed changing.”He plugged it in.THE FILE LABELED “BEFORE”The screen filled with a single video.Sofia appeared—not crying, not frantic. Calm. Composed. Wearing no makeup. No jewelry. No performance.“If you’re watching this,” she said, “it means I did what Andrea never would—walked into the fire willingly.”Andrea’s jaw tightened.“This isn’t a confession,” Sofia continued. “It’s a correction.”The video cut.Documents followed.Dates.Meetings.Financial trails that didn’t point to Nikolai—but around him.Chloe leaned forward. “These aren’t his accounts.”“No,” Andrea said slowly. “They’re ol