CHAPTER TWELVE Declan stood perfectly still at the desk, his expression unchanged. The receptionist’s cruel smile widened as she watched him process her words. “I’m sorry,” she said again, her tone dripping with false sympathy. “But this establishment caters to a certain… caliber of client. I’m sure you understand.” The wealthy customer beside her chuckled, adjusting his expensive watch. “Happens all the time,” he said to the receptionist, loud enough for Declan to hear. “People see the fancy storefront and think they can just walk in.” The receptionist laughed a bright, tinkling sound that felt like broken glass. “Exactly. Last week, someone came in wearing sneakers. Sneakers! Can you imagine?” She finally looked directly at Declan, her eyes scanning him from head to toe with undisguised contempt. “No offense, but Ralph Fashion House has a reputation to maintain. We can’t have just… anyone… browsing our collection.” Declan’s voice remained calm. “I’d like to speak

CHAPTER FOURTEEN Declan stood at the entrance of Howard University’s main building, adjusting the collar of his new suit. It was simple charcoal gray, perfectly tailored, with clean lines and no visible branding. Nothing flashy. Nothing that screamed wealth. But it fit him like it had been made specifically for his body. Because it had been. Mrs. Laurent had insisted on custom measurements before he left Ralph Fashion House yesterday. The suit had been delivered to his apartment at six this morning by a private courier. Declan took a slow breath and walked through the doors. The whispers started immediately. “Is that Declan?” “Where’d he get that suit?” “Probably borrowed it.” “Or stole it.” A group of students near the bulletin board turned to stare. One of them, a girl Declan vaguely recognized from his anatomy class laughed behind her hand. “Girl, look at him trying to dress up for court,” she whispered loudly. “Like a nice suit is gonna save him from

CHAPTER SIXTEEN The police car stopped. But they were not at a police station. Declan looked out the window, confused. They were in an empty parking structure. Dark. Quiet. No other cars around. The officer in the passenger seat turned back to look at him. “End of the line, Mr. Hawthorne.” The door opened. But instead of more police, a man in a black suit stood there. Behind him was a sleek black Mercedes with tinted windows. The officer uncuffed Declan without a word. “You are free to go.” Declan stared at him. “What?” The officer would not meet his eyes. “Someone very important wants to see you. Get in the car.” Declan climbed out slowly, his wrists aching from the cuffs. His legs felt weak. His whole body felt heavy. The man in the black suit gestured toward the Mercedes. The back door was already open. Declan walked toward it like he was moving through water. Everything felt slow. Unreal. He bent down and looked inside. Ms. Sonia sat in the b

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Declan woke to pale morning light streaming through the tall windows of his palace bedroom. For a moment, he forgot where he was. Then it all came rushing back. The party. The champagne thrown in his face. The laughter. The way Stefan had touched his shoulder like he was something to be pitied. The way Tahlia had whispered that he was not even worth the money. The way the Governor had looked at him like he was dirt tracked in on expensive carpet. Declan sat up slowly, his body heavy with exhaustion. He had barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw their faces. A knock on the door. “Come in,” Declan said, his voice rough. Ms. Sonia entered, carrying a tablet and a cup of coffee. Her expression was carefully neutral, but there was tension in her shoulders. “Good morning, Your Highness.” “Do not call me that,” Declan said quietly. “Not yet.” She nodded and set the coffee on the bedside table. “You need to see this.” She

CHAPTER TWENTYThe medical industry gala was held at the Grand Meridian Hotel.The ballroom was massive, decorated with crystal chandeliers and ice sculptures shaped like medical instruments. White tablecloths. Gold cutlery. Champagne flowing like water.Every important person in healthcare was there.Hospital executives. Pharmaceutical CEOs. Medical supply companies. Insurance directors.And standing near the entrance, checking names off a list, was a woman in an elegant black dress with a clipboard.Declan approached, Ms. Sonia beside him.He wore a charcoal gray suit, custom tailored, with a black tie. His hair was styled perfectly. He looked nothing like the kid who had been dragged out of the Grayson party in handcuffs.The woman looked up as he approached.Her expression shifted from professional to confused.“Name?”“Declan Hawthorne. Sterling Medical Supplies.”She checked her list, frowning.“I see the company listed, but…” She looked up at him again. “Are you sure you are in