It was a compromise, born from hours of tense, quiet negotiation behind closed doors. Adam had practically begged her not to leave the estate. If she walked out, the lawyers would notice. The bank would notice. Vane Corporation would swallow the Horizon project whole, and the remaining billions of the Crown Fund—the money tied to the birth of a male heir—would be permanently locked away behind the iron gates of his father's cautious legal traps."A separate room," Maya had demanded, her voice flat, her eyes fixed on the small suitcase by her feet. "No more pillow lines. No more sharing a mattress. I sleep in a different room, or I sleep in my trailer, Adam. Those are the only options."Adam had relented. "The east wing is yours. It's private. Nobody goes in there without your permission."It was the only way to keep the house of cards from collapsing.By noon, Adam was sitting at the massive mahogany desk in his executive office, but his mind wasn't on the sustainable housing blueprin

The next morning, the heavy silence inside the Dada estate was suffocating. Adam stood by his office window at the Vane Corporation, staring out at the smog-choked city skyline, but he wasn't looking at the view. His chest burned with a toxic mix of rejection, anger, and absolute heartbreak. Maya’s plan to substitute Sandra into his bed felt like the ultimate insult. She wanted to treat him like an equation to be solved, a client to be serviced by an outsourced surrogate.A dark, vengeful thought took root in his mind. If she wants to play the cold, detached matchmaker, I will show her exactly how well I can play the part.He picked up his phone, opened a secure messaging app, and typed out a brief, formal text to Sandra: Be ready by eight tonight. Wear something elegant. We are going out for dinner.He hit send. It was a calculated strike, a grenade thrown across the battlefield of their fractured mansion. He wanted Maya to see them leave together. He wanted her to sit alone in her c