“Daddy?” The word landed like a punch Craig never saw coming. He froze on the threshold of the dining hall, heart dropping, breath stalling. His wife didn’t remarry… right? But there she was — his daughter — tiny arms wrapped around another man’s neck. “I love the doll you got for me, Daddy!” she giggled. “I can’t wait for my birthday tomorrow!” Tomorrow. Her seventh birthday. February 3rd. Oh right.. how could he forget? He used to whisper that date like a prayer in the trenches. Robin Wade only chuckled, pinching her cheeks with the ease of a man who belonged. “Princess, I have plenty more surprises for you tomorrow.” She squealed. Robin carried her to the table, not sparing Craig a glance. Craig stood there — the ghost no one invited. Robin Wade looked exactly like the type of man the world applauded without thinking. Tall, polished, imperial. The kind of man who inherited power instead of fighting for it. His suit alone probably cost more than Craig earned i

Robbin swooped in with exaggerated gentleness, lifting Sophia into his arms as if he had rehearsed it. Cameras flashed. Applause rose a second time — louder, warmer — the perfect father everyone adored. Krazy didn’t blink, but something in his eyes iced over. Adele turned, embarrassment simmering beneath her breath. “You should never have come if you were going to give your daughter a fake gift,” she hissed. Her skin crawled with humiliation. How could he put himself in a position to compete with Robin? How could he be this foolish? Krazy only arched a brow. “Oh, dear wife. That piece is not fake.” Adele’s voice cut sharp. “Aren’t you embarrassed? How else could you have gotten something like that?” “Adele… Sophia needs you,” Ava murmured, tugging her sleeve. Adele shot Krazy one last look. “I hope you enjoyed the shame you brought on me.” With that, she walked off. While Sophia unwrapped another gift, Adele whispered, “Sweetheart… do you know who that man is?” She nodded tow

The man stepped aside and personally motioned for Krazy to enter. Adele’s breath caught. General? Krazy slipped his arm around her and stepped past the stunned crowd. Every mocking face fell silent, stunned. Damon shook with fury. Watching Krazy escorted inside tore at him. His stomach twisted. His jaw clenched so hard it cracked. How could Krazy get inside an elite event while he — the decorated Lancaster — was barred outside? He was the one invited. Not this bastard. “Fuck! This isn’t happening!” Damon shouted as guards forced him and Hector out. “Eyes here,” Krazy murmured. He gently turned her face toward the hall. “They’ll watch everything from their TV. It’s better this way.” Adele exhaled shakily. “It’s unbelievable… How did you even pull this off?” Krazy’s lips lifted faintly. “I have friends inside. For now… enjoy.” The hall unfolded before her — chandeliers, generals, dignitaries, billionaires. It didn’t feel real that she could sit beside peop

“And who the hell are you..” Krazy moved in one fluid motion — a twist of the wrist, a sharp turn, and the man was on his knees, gasping for air, his arm locked behind him. The entire bar went quiet. Krazy’s tone never changed. “Walk away!” "AHH!" The man cried out. Without a second thought, he scrambled to his feet, clutching his wrist and muttering curses, disappearing into the dark corner of the bar. “You should go home.” He tells the lady. “I will. My car is parked outside after all…” The lady staggered as she rose to her feet and Krazy could smell her drunken state from where he stood, “Thank you.” She said with a grateful smile. He just nodded slightly, his eyes scanning her — not in the way men in bars usually did, but as if he was assessing her safety in her state. The lady took two steps forward, but the room tilted in slow motion and before she could take another step, she lost balance but a strong arm caught her around the waist. Craig steadied her effortle

Afternoon light spilled through the café windows in soft gold bands, catching on dust and steam. Penny was dressed in simply—a cream blouse, fitted jeans, and hair loosely curled. She looked fresh, unpolished in a pretty, effortless way. And Adele? She sat by the window, sipping her coffee as they chatted. Her dress was modest, pastel blue, long sleeves buttoned neatly at her wrists. Her posture is straight enough to draw respect but soft enough not to intimidate. She looked gentle—too gentle, like someone who practiced being gentle. A waiter dropped off two coffees. Steam curled between them like a veil. After sipping her coffee, Adele lifted her head, “...hmm, of course.. you mentioned Craig helped you yesterday?” Her voice stayed smooth, but her eyes sharpened by a fraction. “Who was he with at the bar?” She asked with a friendly smile. Penny’s throat tightened. Her mind flashed back to the man's hand holding her upright, her own reckless kiss before everything went black. She