Antonio Lavez stood near the edge of the crowd, impeccably dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his dark eyes calm but sharp, watching every detail.He was a man who carried power the way others carried breath, effortlessly. Billionaire, innovator, strategist; every move he made was deliberate. And tonight, he was prepared to give his wife a gift worth sixty million dollars, a watch so rare it belonged in museums.But more valuable than the diamonds and sapphires woven into its face was the thought behind it. Antonio believed love was proven in action, and this gift was his way of proving it again.“Antonio,” Jolie’s voice floated toward him, sweet and silken as she glided across the room in a shimmering silver gown. Her beauty was undeniable, her smile radiant enough to turn heads, and yet, when her eyes met his, he caught the flicker of something else. Impatience. Calculation.“You’re late to join the toast,” she said, slipping her hand onto his arm. “People are asking where you are

The metallic groan of the prison doors opening at dawn dragged Antonio out of his restless half-sleep. He blinked against the pale light filtering in through barred windows, every sound amplified in the cavernous block, boots stomping, prisoners yelling, trays clattering.Marcus stretched on his cot, cracking his neck. “Morning in paradise. Hope you’re ready, rich boy.”Antonio sat up, adjusting his collar. “Ready for what?”Marcus smirked. “The welcoming committee. Every fresh fish gets one. They’ll want to test you.”Antonio arched a brow. “Test me how?”“You’ll see.” Marcus chuckled darkly. “Best advice? Don’t look weak. Don’t look scared. And whatever you do, don’t let them think you’re soft. Soft gets eaten.”Antonio rose slowly, his movements precise, controlled. His calm unnerved even Marcus. “Let them try.”The guards opened the cells one by one. Prisoners shuffled into the yard, a sprawling concrete square lined with fences and watchtowers.The morning air was sharp, tinged w

The city felt different. When Antonio stepped out of the courthouse, the September air brushed his skin like a stranger’s hand. The cameras swarmed, voices stabbing at him, microphones shoved toward his face.“Antonio, what’s your next move?”“Do you plan to rebuild your company?”“Are you going to sue your ex-wife?”Antonio’s dark eyes swept over them all, unreadable. Then, without a word, he slid into the waiting car Evelyn had arranged. The door shut, muting the chaos.The silence was sharp. Evelyn sat across from him, studying him. “You’re free, but freedom isn’t safety. Daniel and Jolie won’t take this quietly.”Antonio leaned back, gaze fixed on the glass as the city blurred past. “Good. Let them stir. The more noise they make, the easier it’ll be to choke them with it.”Evelyn frowned. “Antonio”“No.” His voice cut, firm. “The man you defended doesn’t exist anymore. They killed him the night they put chains on me.”He turned his head, eyes cold. “Now they’ll meet someone else.”

The gala was smaller than the last one, but no less glittering. A fundraiser for the city’s art foundation, the room overflowed with velvet gowns, tailored tuxedos, and the scent of wealth disguised as culture.Jolie Crane thrived here, dazzling in emerald silk, her laughter ringing like polished silver.Daniel held her arm, already deep in conversation with a senator, while Jolie’s eyes roamed the room for admirers. And there he was. Adrian Black.She felt her pulse quicken the instant she saw him across the room, standing near the sculpture display, gray eyes calm, posture regal. A stranger, yet something in him tugged at her memories like a thread.Marcus leaned close to Adrian, muttering. “So what’s the plan tonight? You gonna spook them with numbers again?”Adrian’s lips curved faintly. “Numbers bleed slowly. Tonight, I want a scream.”The opportunity arrived sooner than expected. The host of the gala, an art curator eager to impress, clinked his glass, calling for attention.“La

Jolie Crane had always trusted her instincts, it was how she’d survived betrayal, clawed her way into power, and learned to silence guilt with luxury. Tonight, those instincts screamed louder than ever.Adrian Black wasn’t who he claimed to be. She needed proof. The test began over dinner.The Crane estate glowed with candlelight, a private gathering of elites meant to project stability after Crane Shipping’s sudden collapse. Daniel played host, plastering on charm while panic gnawed at his insides.But Jolie wasn’t interested in the investors. Her eyes never left the tall man across the table, dressed in midnight black, his smile sharp enough to cut glass. Adrian Black.“Mr. Black,” she purred, tilting her wine glass. “Forgive me for being blunt, but you feel… familiar. Have we met before?”Adrian’s gaze locked onto hers. He smiled, but his eyes remained cold. “Familiarity can be dangerous, Mrs. Crane. Sometimes it’s nothing more than memory playing tricks.”Jolie’s breath caught. He