Jaxon felt the weight of defeat settle deep in his chest as he and Jane walked away from the towering building. He was heartbroken.Not just because their plan had failed and not just because Jane had been humiliated yet again—but because, for the first time, he felt powerless. And Jaxon had built his entire identity on never appearing powerless.Beside him, Jane was unraveling.Her face remained tight with anguish and her eyes unfocused as though she were replaying the scene again and again in her head. She hugged her handbag close to her chest, as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality.“Jane, Please, you need to breathe,” Jaxon said gently, forcing calm into his voice.She didn’t answer.He slowed his pace so she would stop too. Turning toward her, he lowered his voice. “Listen to me. This isn’t the end. It only feels like it.”Jane finally looked at him, and the emptiness in her eyes startled him.“That’s exactly what you said after DeGrand. And look where we are n

The laughter that rippled through the hall after Leonard’s bow did not fade quickly. It lingered, sharp and echoing, clinging to the high ceiling like a stain that refused to be wiped away. What had begun as light amusement turned into something more pointed—mockery disguised as humor, curiosity laced with contempt. Conversations overlapped, glasses clinked, and whispers slithered from one cluster of guests to another.Jane stood frozen near the edge of the gathering, her fingers curled tightly against the fabric of her dress. She could feel the heat rising to her face, a mix of embarrassment and disbelief burning beneath her skin. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to unfold. Not like this. Not with Donald at the center of it all.Beside her, Jaxon’s jaw tightened. His eyes followed Leonard, then flicked back to Donald, who stood calmly as if the laughter had nothing to do with him. That calm—so composed, so infuriating—made something twist hard in Jaxon’s chest.“This is ridicul

Various sections of the event were carefully scheduled.The hall seemed to pulse with anticipation as guests moved from one activity to the next.At the center of the room, Jane twirled gracefully in Jaxon’s arms. Their movements were fluid, almost effortless, synchronized perfectly with the rhythm of the music that floated across the polished floor. The couples around them seemed to fade into the background, the spotlight somehow following Jane and Jaxon as though the room existed only for them. Some of the partygoers couldn’t help but stare, whispering among themselves about the couple’s chemistry. The way Jaxon guided Jane, the gentle, confident way she responded—it drew attention, admiration, and a hint of envy.Meanwhile, at a corner table, Donald remained seated, his posture composed and his expression calm and unreadable. He watched the proceedings with an almost imperceptible air of detachment. The whispers that floated in his direction weren’t kind, but he remained unfl

Jaxon, perched confidently on his horse at the front row, was one of the loudest. He had been gloating since the start, clearly convinced that victory was his. His posture was perfect, his hands firm on the reins, and his expression radiated arrogance.“This is going to be over in minutes,” Jaxon shouted with a smirk, turning his head slightly toward the crowd. “I’ll be emerging as the winner. Just wait and watch Donald squirm in shame when he sees me cross the finish line first!”The crowd responded with enthusiastic cheers, their support largely drawn from Jaxon’s confidence and reputation. “Champion! Champion!” they chanted, raising their arms and stomping their feet in anticipation. Jaxon didn’t wait for a moment; as soon as the horn blew, he urged his horse forward, galloping with all the strength and skill he possessed.Meanwhile, the murmurs about Donald had not ceased. Many of the classmates continued to mock him, hurling names and taunts. “He’ll fall before the first ob

Soft instrumental music began to play in the background, slow and elegant, filling the space with a sense of ceremony. The celebrant of the night—Leonard Hayes, the host of the reunion and the wealthy old classmate—sat at the center table, smiling broadly, clearly enjoying the attention.One by one, guests rose from their seats and walked to the front.The first presenter was a former classmate who now owned a chain of luxury hotels. He handed Leonard a slim velvet box. The emcee opened it slightly, peered inside, and announced, “A limited-edition Swiss wristwatch valued at eighty thousand dollars!”The hall erupted in applause. Leonard stood, shook the man’s hand, and bowed slightly in gratitude.Another guest followed—a woman dressed in a sparkling gown—who presented a framed abstract painting.“This,” the emcee announced, “is an original piece by a renowned European artist, valued at one hundred and twenty thousand dollars!”Gasps followed by applause rippled through the hall. The