Chapter 33 The night fell upon the city like a velvet curtain, thick with shimmering stars and the hum of neon lights. Andrea found himself standing before the most luxurious restaurant he had ever seen. Its name was etched in gold above grand glass doors, and the air carried the faintest scent of roses mingled with fine wine. He had been here only once before, as a young boy delivering groceries for a family friend. Back then, he had peeked into the glittering chandeliers and immaculately dressed guests with awe, never imagining he would one day walk through these doors as an honored guest himself. Yet tonight, he was here not just as Andrea — the ordinary man once scorned, humiliated, and doubted. He was here as Andrea Konstantinou, the newly recognized heir of a family whose power stretched across business, law, media, and beyond. Even so, his palms sweated. Every step toward those doors made him wonder: would his sisters truly accept him? Or would they look at him as Sofia once d

Chapter 35 The dinner plates had been cleared, leaving only half-finished glasses of wine and the faint aroma of truffles lingering in the private room. For Andrea, the world still felt unreal. The watch gleamed at his wrist, the suit rested folded across the chair beside him, and the car keys lay heavy in his pocket like a talisman. He had walked into this restaurant uncertain if his sisters would even acknowledge him. Now he sat surrounded by gifts worth more than his entire life had once been, treasures that symbolized acceptance, belonging, and—more than anything—expectation. Maria, seated at the head of the table, studied him quietly. Her sisters had laughed, teased, and overwhelmed him with generosity, but Maria’s eyes carried something different: calculation, the weight of decisions that went far beyond family warmth. Andrea noticed it. His nerves, though softened by the wine and his sisters’ affection, sharpened again. Maria wasn’t a woman to waste words. If she lingered, i

Chapter 37 The elevator doors were about to close when a sharp voice sliced through the air. “Stop.” The sensor caught the interruption, and the polished steel doors slid open again. A sharp-faced woman in a fitted suit stood there, her expression severe and cold. Beside her was a rotund man whose suit strained against his frame, the glint of a heavy gold watch catching the overhead light. His eyes swept the inside of the elevator not with curiosity, but with ownership—as if the entire space belonged to him. The woman’s gaze instantly locked on Andrea, Laura, and Gracie. Her brows knitted, and her lips curled in visible disgust. “You three. Out.” Andrea frowned, his hand hovering near the panel. “Why?” he asked evenly. Her voice snapped like a whip. “Because Mr. Robert is here. Do you people of your status think you’re worthy of sharing the same elevator as him?” Gracie’s shoulders stiffened. The indifference she carried earlier vanished as she bowed her head almost instinctiv

Laura leaned toward the recruit beside her, a young woman with tightly coiled braids and a nervous smile. “Don’t mind the tension,” she whispered brightly. “First days are always overwhelming. We’ll all laugh about it in a few weeks.” The woman nodded quickly, reassured by Laura’s warmth. Laura’s friendliness spread like a soft glow; she asked about people’s backgrounds, their reasons for joining Whitewater, their ambitions. She listened attentively, smiled easily, and laughed at the right moments. But Andrea, watching from the corner of his eye, caught the flicker again—the way her gaze sharpened when someone mentioned Robert, the careful way she chose her words to avoid standing out. Her pleasant demeanor was a shield, just as much as Gracie’s coldness was. Laura was pretending to be nice—not because she cared deeply for these strangers, but because it kept her safe. Gracie sat apart, flipping through the orientation packet with practiced efficiency. She didn’t bother engaging w

Morning sunlight spilled into Andrea’s room, but it did little to brighten his mood. His phone vibrated against the nightstand, the harsh ringtone splitting through the stillness. He reached for it, thinking it was one of his sisters, but froze when he saw the number flashing on the screen.Police Station.He answered cautiously. “Hello?”A clipped male voice responded, hard and official. “Andrea Carter?”“Yes.”“This is Inspector Kael from the central precinct. You’re required to report to the station immediately for questioning.”Andrea straightened slowly, his grip tightening on the phone. “Questioning? What’s this about?”“You’ll be informed when you get here. I suggest you don’t waste time.”Andrea frowned. “I have work. I’ll come after—”The man cut him off, voice sharp as a blade. “If you don’t come voluntarily, we’ll come for you. You wouldn’t want that kind of scene. Be wise.”The line went dead.Andrea lowered the phone, staring at the black screen. His jaw tightened. This w