The morning sun had just begun to rise over Cloud City, casting a pale golden light across the horizon as the black Cadillac Escalade-V cruised steadily along the empty expressway.It was around 7 AM, and the city was slowly waking up.The once-dark streets were now bathed in soft morning light, but Sebastian’s expression remained cold and contemplative as he sat in the back seat, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery through the heavily tinted windows.Streetlights blinked out one after another as shops gradually began opening their doors for business.Delivery trucks rumbled along the roads, office workers hurried toward subway stations with steaming cups of coffee in hand, and the city's morning traffic steadily came to life.Everything looked peaceful and normal.No one would ever imagine that barely five hours earlier, a bloody massacre had unfolded beneath one of the city's most notorious slums.Bruce sat behind the wheel, driving with his usual steady precision.Neither he nor

Daisy led Sebastian toward an elegant crystal display near the center of the showroom. Inside, dozens of exquisite necklaces rested on black velvet cushions beneath warm golden spotlights.She unlocked the case swiftly before carefully lifting out the first piece.“This is one of our best-selling collections, sir.”She held it up delicately, allowing the diamonds to catch the light.“The centrepiece is a natural pink diamond from the Argyle mines, surrounded by white sapphires.”“It was designed by Master Lorenzo Vieri, one of Italy's most celebrated jewellery designers.”“It is a collection that our female clients are really satisfied with, and it is priced at $480,000.” She smiled confidently.Sebastian examined it quietly for a few seconds before shaking his head.“Show me another one.”Daisy's professional smile remained unchanged, and she carefully returned it before retrieving another.“This piece is rather special.”“The emerald at its center was sourced from Colombia and paire

The tense atmosphere inside the VIP showroom had attracted the attention of nearly everyone on the floor.Several wealthy patrons had quietly gathered at a distance, pretending to browse the surrounding displays while secretly watching the confrontation unfold with great interest.Even a few sales representatives had paused what they were doing, stealing curious glances toward the commotion.The elegant middle-aged manager, Helen Prescott, stepped forward calmly, her black business suit immaculate despite the hurried pace at which she had arrived.Beside her stood Yvelte Laurent, who remained silent from beginning to end, her clear eyes calmly observing the room.The moment Nicolas saw her, the irritation on his face eased slightly, and a trace of respect replaced it as he nodded politely."Miss Laurent. I didn't expect to see you here today."“Nicolas, it is indeed a surprise.” Yvelte said as she looked at him briefly while returning the greeting with a small nod.“Miss Laurent," Dais

Morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the Lockwood Manor, filling the dining room with a warm golden glow.The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and toasted bread lingered pleasantly in the air, yet the atmosphere around the breakfast table was anything but cheerful.Amelia sat quietly, absentmindedly stirring the coffee in front of her without taking a single sip. Her beautiful brows were knitted together, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.Across from her, Lisa was still fuming."I still can't believe Rebecca had the nerve to act like that!" She stabbed her fork into a sausage with far more force than necessary."She acts like she's some kind of queen. No... A queen would probably have better manners. She was just an arrogant snob. The way she looked down on your family... the way she kept mocking you..."Lisa clenched her fists. "I swear, the next time I see her, I'm going to—""Lisa," Amelia interrupted softly. "That's enough."Lisa immediately deflated. "But Amelia…""It

Morning sunlight poured through the French windows of a sprawling estate in Celestia Hills, overlooking the heart of Cloud City.Unlike the bustling streets outside, the atmosphere inside the mansion was oppressively quiet.The bedroom alone was larger than most luxury apartments, furnished with handcrafted mahogany furniture, antique paintings worth millions, and crystal chandeliers imported from Europe. Every decoration spoke of unimaginable wealth.Yet despite the extravagance surrounding it, the room carried not the warmth of a home but the chilling silence of a hospital ward.The private medical suite occupied the entire top floor of the Montclair family’s private hospital wing.Crystal vases of white lilies stood on every surface, their fragrance unable to mask the faint, sterile scent of medicine that lingered in the air.On the large four-poster bed lay a young woman who looked no older than twenty-two.Juliette Montclair’s once-vibrant face had grown pale and fragile, her long