The bedroom Marcus now occupied felt more like a prison cell than living quarters—sparse, impersonal, stripped of anything that might suggest two people shared this space as husband and wife. Quinn had made it abundantly clear: separate rooms, separate lives, a marriage that existed only on paper and in public performances.Tonight was one of those performances.Quinn stood in the doorway, elegant in a navy business dress that probably cost more than Marcus used to earn in three months. Her Saintess aura was carefully dimmed, professional rather than divine, but her expression carried the same cold indifference it always did when looking at him."My colleague is hosting a company dinner at Azure Pierce Hotel," she said without preamble. "We need to attend together. As a couple."Marcus looked up from the book he'd been reading—an ancient text on dragon cultivation that Seraphine had provided. "A couple.""We have an agreement," Quinn reminded him, her voice flat. "You'll play your par

The Azure Pierce Hotel's main lobby was a cathedral of wealth—polished marble floors that reflected the massive crystal chandeliers, walls adorned with contemporary art that cost more than most houses, and staff dressed in uniforms that probably required more training than a medical degree.Quinn approached the reception desk with the confidence of someone who'd never been denied anything in her life, Marcus trailing a step behind playing his role as the dutiful husband. The Hartford Group employees clustered nearby, phones already out, anticipation crackling in the air like electricity before a storm."Good evening," Quinn said to the receptionist, her professional smile firmly in place. "Reservation for Hartford Group. We should have a table in the main dining room."The receptionist—a young woman with perfect makeup and a nameplate reading "Madison"—checked her computer with practiced efficiency. Her expression shifted almost imperceptibly, and Marcus's enhanced senses caught the s

The Hartford Group employees were already turning toward the exit, their phones still out, their conversations a mixture of mockery and satisfied vindication. Quinn stood frozen at the reception desk, mascara streaking her face, her Saintess composure shattered into a thousand pieces.Then a calm voice cut through the chaos like a knife through silk."I have a card. Maybe it will work."Every head turned.Marcus stepped forward, his expression utterly unreadable, his movements calm and deliberate. He reached into his jacket pocket with the kind of unhurried confidence that made the mockery pause—just for a moment—before erupting even louder than before."Oh my God," Jessica was the first to laugh. "Is he serious right now?""Marcus Steel thinks he has a VIP card!" Robert Chen doubled over, wheezing with laughter. "This is even better than Quinn's failure! This is comedy gold!""Wait, wait, let me record this," someone else said, raising their phone higher. "I want to capture the exact

Madison picked up the phone, clearly humoring what she thought was a delusional customer. "Mr. Pierce? There's a... situation in the lobby. A guest is requesting your presence."Whatever response came through made her eyes widen slightly. "Yes, sir. Right away, sir."She hung up. "Mr. Pierce will be down momentarily.""Tobias Pierce?" Wesley's laugh was harsh. "The Azure Pierce's general manager? He's going to come down here and throw you out personally, Marcus. I can't wait to see—"The elevator chimed.Tobias Pierce emerged—fifty years old, impeccably dressed, moving with the controlled urgency of someone who'd just received information that changed everything. His eyes scanned the lobby, found Marcus, and went wide.Then he ran.Actually ran across the marble floor, his expensive shoes clicking rapidly, his face flushed with what looked like panic."Mr. Steel!" Tobias gasped, nearly stumbling to a stop. He bowed—actually bowed—so deeply his forehead almost touched his knees. "Forgi

The Imperial Hall took Tessa's breath away the moment she stepped through its ornate doors.Crystal chandeliers that made the lobby's fixtures look cheap bathed everything in warm golden light. Hand-carved mahogany panels covered the walls, depicting dragons and phoenixes in exquisite detail. The tables were set with china so fine it was nearly translucent, silverware that probably cost more per piece than most people's monthly rent, and centerpieces of rare orchids that had definitely been flown in from somewhere exotic.Hartford Group employees filled the space, taking pictures with their phones, their faces glowing with excitement. This was the kind of venue that became legend—the kind of place you bragged about visiting for years.Quinn sat at the head table, her midnight blue dress elegant and professional, her Saintess aura glowing softly around her like a halo. She played her role perfectly—the gracious hostess, the poised leader, the woman who commanded respect through divine