The moment Elizabeth stepped out of Ryan’s mansion, the faintest trace of a smirk curved her lips. The tension that had filled the atmosphere inside was gone now, and what replaced it was something darker—satisfaction. She reached into her small, sleek purse and pulled out her phone. Her movements

Ryan kept pacing restlessly across the living room, his mind spinning with worry. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each second feeling like an hour. The air felt heavier with every breath he took. He had already called his mother several times, but she wasn’t answering anymore. She must have f

Elizabeth had already stepped out of the mansion when she suddenly stopped outside the house. Her hand was still on the handle, and her mind raced faster than her feet could move. She turned back slowly, her expression softening into one of calculated worry. Then she pushed the door open again and

Ryan hesitated, torn between both sides. He looked at Elizabeth, who was pretending to look desperate, and then at his mother, whose anger was fueled by love and fear. He opened his mouth but couldn’t speak. Meanwhile, inside her mind, Elizabeth was panicking. He’s hesitating. He still doesn’t trus

Elizabeth watched the exchange quietly, her heart racing—not from guilt, but from excitement. It’s working, she thought. He’s doubting himself. He’s almost there. Out loud, she said softly, “Ryan… if you don’t want to trust me, at least do it for your mother. Please. Let her come with me tonight. J