Without wasting a moment, Luca pulled out his phone and made another call, this one to the Crystal Hotel's VIP reservations desk."I need the top suite, tomorrow evening, seven o'clock. Put it under the Max family name."The reservation was confirmed within minutes.The next morning, the Black family's phones began ringing.Zara called every relative who had ever looked down on them—the cousins who snubbed them at family gatherings.To each one, she delivered the same message with breathless excitement: "We're hosting a private dinner at Crystal Hotel tomorrow night with Mr. Adam himself. The Mr. Adam. Yes, that one. You should come. Bring your business cards. You never know who might need a contractor."Tracy invited her closest friends, the ones who had cooed over her pregnancy, who envied her connection to the Max family. The Black family arrived at Crystal Hotel an hour early.They swept through the lobby like conquering heroes, heads high, chins lifted, drinking in the envious g

Maya, however, laughed shamelessly."Proud?" She tossed her hair back, her eyes glittering with unrepentant malice. "Why shouldn't I be proud? Let me explain something to you, Adam—not just any random man can sleep with us. We have standards. Standards that lowlife trash like you couldn't even begin to meet."She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper."You aren't even worthy of looking at us. Pathetic losers like you would beg for a lifetime and never get what you want." Her lips curled into a cruel smile. "Maybe you'd have better luck with a goat. Or a pig. At least they're closer to your level."Adam's gaze sharpened. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but otherwise, his expression remained calm.He had spent years enduring this woman's poison. Years swallowing his rage because he believed, foolishly, blindly, that loving Tracy meant accepting her friends.No longer, Adam moved.It wasn't a punch or a slap, something far more precise. His hand flashed out, a

Tracy's face went pale. She could feel the dozens of eyes upon her, judging, curious, delighted by her humiliation. "You're insane," she spat, her voice trembling with rage. "You've always been insane. Incompetent, vile, driven to hatred because you couldn't keep me satisfied. That's why I left. That's why I found a real man."Her voice rose to a shriek. "Get out! Leave! Stop embarrassing me in front of our relatives and partners! Haven't you done enough?"John stepped forward, emboldened by his sister's outburst. His fists clenched, his face twisted with fury."You heard her, loser. Release my sister and get out. Now. Before I…"Adam glanced at him.Just a glance. Indifferent, dismissive. As though John were nothing more than an insect buzzing at the edge of his vision.John's face went red. With a roar, John grabbed the nearest wine bottle, and swung it at Adam's head.The room gasped.Adam moved.It wasn't a dodge. It wasn't a retreat. His fist shot forward in a blur, meeting th

And watching Adam move, watching the precision, the control, the absolute lack of effort—he understood something he should have grasped long ago.This man was not ordinary. Still, Luca tried to bluff."You think this changes anything?" Luca's voice cracked slightly, but he pushed through. "Touch me, and my family will make your parents pay. Your little sister, too. They'll…."Adam's face turned icy and he moved.Not quickly, slowly, deliberately, with a calm so absolute it was more terrifying than any rage. He walked to the table, picked up a full glass of red wine, and strolled back to Luca.Then, without a word, he tilted the glass over Luca's head, soaking his hair, running in rivulets down his expensive suit, staining his white shirt beyond repair. Adam set the empty glass on a nearby table and leaned in close. "If you touch my parents," he said, "if you so much as look at my sister, you will die without a burial."Luca stood rigid, wine dripping from his chin, his eyes wide w

Chapter 60. Adam returned to his empty home, the silence inside perfectly mirroring the state of his mind. He settled into the worn armchair by the window and pulled out his phone. Not for messages or surveillance feeds this time, but for something far more personal. The surveillance footage. Months of it, stored securely in the cloud, documenting every moment of his paralysis. These cameras had been installed by Ruth, the sweet, angelic caregiver who had appeared in his life like a miracle and vanished just as mysteriously. Ruth. The name alone softened something in Adam's chest. He scrolled through the recordings, selecting clips at random. There she was—breathtakingly beautiful, gentle to an extreme he had never encountered before or since. During those six-plus months when he had lain helpless, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to do anything but exist, she had stayed by his side without complaint. The footage showed her meticulous care. Bathing him with hands th