“Will the father now place his beloved daughter’s hand into the groom’s?”At the Lumina Grand Hotel, the groom moved across the stage, bouquet in hand.In the crowd below, Adrian Doyle stood in the shadows, a baseball cap pulled low, his right hand in a bandage. He watched the groom—immaculate in bespoke tailoring—with a jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached.Three days earlier, Adrian had discovered that his girlfriend, Hailey Grant, was cheating on him—with the very man now standing on stage: his boss, Felix Irving.Adrian and Hailey had been together since college and later joined Hill Group after graduation. At some point, Hailey ended up in bed with Felix, who managed their department.Adrian would have remained oblivious, if not for the night he stayed late and stepped into Felix’s office to fetch a file. The computer was still on. One folder on the desktop had a startling title: “Hailey Grant.”Curiosity tugged at him. He clicked.What he saw numbed him: thirteen gigabytes of se

With his vengeance complete, Adrian Doyle walked straight out of the hotel.As he passed the front parking lot, a muffled sob drew his attention. He followed the sound and found a slender woman sitting on the ground, crying.The white wedding dress told him at once: the bride—Daisy Hill.Her makeup was streaked by tears, the pristine hem pooled on the asphalt, hair slightly undone. Even so, her beauty stunned.Adrian remembered Daisy slapping Felix before running out. He hadn’t expected to find her here, alone.Of all the people blindsided tonight, Daisy was the one truly crushed by it.She had believed she’d found the right man, only to learn he was a fraud. For that to happen on her wedding day—how was she supposed to withstand it?A pang of guilt pricked Adrian. He had staged this, after all. He stepped forward, bent slightly, and said, “Miss Daisy, what are you doing down here? The ground’s filthy. Please—let me help you up.”He lifted her to her feet.She studied him. “And you ar

“Idiot—you’re begging to die.” Murder flared in Felix Irving’s eyes as he stared at Adrian Doyle. His own life was in ruins; no matter the cost, Adrian had to die.“Madman.” Daisy’s voice was cool but tight with urgency.The alcohol had burned off. She was once again the aloof woman no one dared approach—except her chest rose and fell a little too fast, worry betraying her.“Mr. Jefferson is the mafia’s golden enforcer,” Felix sneered. “If he doesn’t kill you, he’ll cripple you. Since you love showing off, Adrian Doyle, go die for it.”If Adrian had stayed in the car and called the police, he might have had a sliver of a chance. But the fool had stepped out, all to look brave for Daisy.The thought buoyed Felix. A feverish gleam lit his eyes. He could hardly wait to watch Adrian beaten to death.“Adrian!” Daisy couldn’t watch him walk into slaughter. “Get back in the car. I’ll shield you—they won’t dare touch me.”“Relax.” Adrian rolled his right shoulder. The debt of a broken arm wou

Ten minutes later, they rolled up to a sprawling villa.Kayla took Adrian by the arm and hurried inside, Harper trailing behind with a face full of dread.“What exactly is your father’s condition?” Adrian asked. “Tell me everything.”Kayla’s eyes dimmed; a wet gloss gathered along the rims. “Late-stage cancer. He doesn’t have long.”Adrian nodded, unruffled. “You have my word. I said I’ll save him, and I will.”At this point—promising a cure? The man was all-in on his act. Kayla wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or crushed. She let out a quiet sigh.As she did, a woman with a full figure and mournful eyes approached—Kayla’s mother.“Mom, how is he?” Kayla asked.At the question, her mother’s eyes filled again. “My girl… your father… he may not make it.”“No, Mom—don’t say that. I found a master physician. He said—”“Darling, it’s no use,” her mother cut in, voice quavering. “The doctor told me himself—your father has two days at most. After that, not even God can save him.”A dull

Inside the bedroom, Adrian stepped to Hunter Logan’s bedside.“Lucky for you I got here when I did,” he murmured. “Another hour and you’d have been a memory.”He drew a slim case of silver needles from his jacket and laid them out in a neat row.A soft hiss—and a needle flashed between his fingers, plunging with unerring precision into the point over Hunter’s heart.At once, a pale blue vapor pulsed from the needle’s base.“Rise.”With a low command, Adrian’s palms struck the mattress; power rippled through the frame, lifting Hunter from the bed. The same blue aura unfurled from Adrian, cradling the patient’s body in the air.His hands blurred. Needle after needle found its mark, blooming across meridians and nodes.At each tip, the same cool, cerulean light shimmered.“One stitch for life, one for death. Fate is fixed—until it’s not.”Energy flooded out of him, streaming into thirteen needles like silk in a current.Anyone witnessing it would have been struck dumb. The sight was beyo