“Mr. Cayden, welcome to the banquet.” The host’s voice was heard clear as Cayden stepped through the entrance. Dozens of eyes turned toward him, but he only gave a brief nod, as usual he's into wearing his cold expressions. He didn’t need to greet them; his presence alone demanded attention. “Good evening,” Cayden said quietly, his voice is calm yet it's full of power. He accepted a glass of wine from a passing server and moved to the side of the hall. From his position, his gaze landed immediately on Isabella. She stood in a circle of well-dressed women, her gown shimmering under the lighs around. Her posture was straight, and her smile is polite, but Cayden caught the tightness in her hands gripping her silver clutch. “I heard she was divorced,” a woman’s voice floated through the air. “Yes,” another replied with a smirk. “The great Isabella Mortaine, abandoned. Who would have thought?” Laughter followed. Isabella’s lips twitched, but she didn’t respond yet. “Is it tru

“I—” Isabella’s voice cracked as she tried to speak. “Don’t,” Cayden cut her off, he spoke with a frosty sharpness. “Please, just listen—” her voice cracked, it's trembling with raw desperation. “Listen?” He gave a short, humorless laugh. “Like I listened the night you told me I was dragging you down? Like I listened when you said you regretted marrying me?” The laughter died quickly, leaving his eyes cold and accusing, as if daring her to deny it. Her throat tightened. “I didn’t mean—” “You meant every word.” Cayden’s eyes locked onto hers. “Don’t pretend otherwise.” The hardness in his tone couldn’t hide the fracture in his eyes. “I was under pressure—” “You were selfish.” He said it without hesitation, leaving no room for argument. “I was scared!" “You were cruel,” he said flatly. He kept his voice even, giving nothing away Her lips trembled. “Cayden, I—” “You don't love me,” he interrupted again. “That’s all there is to it.” “I indeed love you truly, I thoug

“Cayden!” His voice was loud in the lobby, making people turn to look. Cayden lifted his gaze from the folder in his hand, it doesn't even make him flinched a bit, as Mr. Villarreal stormed forward. His suit looked neat under the lights, and his shoes made a steady sound as he walked. There was something in the way he moved that felt full of pride. “You’re really here,” Villarreal sneered, sounding harsh and mocking. “I almost didn’t recognize you without your cheap rags. But then again, some things never change. A beggar will always be a beggar.” The words came out sharp, his smirk making them sting even more. A few people nearby glanced over, sensing the upcoming tension between them. “Mr. Villarreal.” Cayden didn’t flinch at all, standing firm as if the insult hadn’t touched him. His face stayed calm, almost too calm. Villarreal barked a laugh, making sure the gathering businessmen and socialites nearby could hear. “Don’t ‘Mr.’ me as if we’re equals. You? You’re the man who u

“Enough of that begging,” Don Ricardo said, voice hard in the dim study. “I will not crawl to that arrogant Cayden again. Not after what he did to us.” “We had no choice,” his wife murmured, eyes rimmed red. “Cayden humiliated us. He humiliated our name. But, we needed him. We had to kneel.” “Kneel?” Marco spat, leaning forward. “We’re Mortaine! We don’t kneel. We retaliate. We break him.” “You tried,” Don Ricardo snapped. “You failed. You got nothing but public shame for your trouble.” “Because I acted alone,” Marco replied, jaw tight. “If I had true backing, if I had someone with the power to move pieces quietly, it would be different.” A new voice, smooth and low, made them all look up. “Power can be bought. Loyalties can be shifted. Men like Cayden rely on images. Image is fragile.” They turned. Mr. Zhao stood in the doorway, hands folded, a calm smile on his face. He carried no papers, but confidence only, despite the fact that Cayden also humiliated him before. “Who invi

“Diego.” “You finally picked up.” Diego’s voice came warm through the line. “Where are you calling from? It sounds like the city is awake behind you.” “In the office. Late,” Cayden answered. “I just finished a meeting. I needed to hear a voice I trust.” “You know I am always here.” Diego’s tone went soft for a second. “Tell me straight. How are you, really?” “I am fine,” Cayden said. “Busy. Focused.” “Fine doesn’t mean nothing is wrong,” Diego pushed. “You and I spent years abroad. We worked on the pieces of your life. We built this. You can tell me if there is one corner you still avoid.” There was a pause. Cayden breathed out. “Isabella came to the forum today,” he said finally. “She defended me.” “I saw the footage,” Diego said. “I saw her defend you in front of everyone. Your ex in-laws must have hated that.” “They did,” Cayden said. “They called me other names. They tried to humiliate me again last week.” “Then why are you telling me this now?” Diego asked. “Do you still