The evening breeze swept across the open-air rooftop of the Orca Hotel, rustling the palm trees around the pool. Electronic music hummed from the DJ booth while nearly fifty former classmates mingled over cocktails against the backdrop of the city skyline. Gregory’s wheelchair rolled across the teak decking as David pushed him toward the poolside cabana. Before they reached it, Giselle broke away from her group. Dressed in a dark blue cocktail dress, she approached with a glass of sparkling wine on a small tray. “Gregory,” Giselle said softly, stopping in front of his wheelchair with her head lowered. “I had the bartender prepare fresh iced water for you.” She placed the glass on the side table attached to his wheelchair before leaning down to straighten the corner of the dark silk blanket over his lap. Near the sun loungers, her two closest friends, Madeline and Vivienne, stared at the scene in disbelief. Madeline, wearing a tight sequined dress, hurried over and grabbed G

The VIP lounge of the Grand Palais was crowded with investors and agency executives celebrating the success of the runway show.Flutes of vintage champagne moved through the room on silver trays as photographers captured the evening’s highlights.Giselle stood near the bar, accepting congratulations from a group of European fashion buyers, when Robert Carnegie approached.He held a crystal glass of scotch in one hand, his suit immaculate beneath the warm lights. A confident smile rested on his handsome face as his eyes briefly traveled over her gown.“Miss Drake,” Robert said smoothly. “That was quite a walk tonight. You’ve certainly made an impression.”Giselle turned toward him and offered a polite smile.She recognized him immediately.Robert Carnegie—the heir to the Carnegie Syndicate.“Thank you, Mr. Carnegie,” Giselle replied, taking a sip of sparkling water.Robert leaned against the bar, studying her as though she were an asset waiting to be required.“I’ll get straight to the

The phantom pain started as a dull, throbbing ache deep inside the leg that was no longer there.By the time Gregory steered his wheelchair past the hedges of Hartley Medical Center, the dull ache had sharpened into a sensation of hot needles. His left thigh twitched violently against the seat as the damaged nerves sent painful signals through the limb that no longer existed.He needed an emergency, high-resolution MRI. The surgical team at the Hilton private clinic had warned him about the possibility of a neuroma developing along the severed nerve. If left untreated, it could become agonizing and potentially interfere with any future bio-interface fitting.David wasn’t there to push the wheelchair as usual. He had a mandatory midterm exam, and Gregory had refused to wait for a security detail since he didn’t expect to stay long.He pressed the automated button on the wheelchair armrest and guided himself up the incline leading to the VIP diagnostic wing. The sterile smell of disinfe

Three armored Escalades pulled up to the front curb of Hartley Medical Center, their doors opening almost simultaneously. Knox stepped out of the lead vehicle, followed by six bodyguards in black suits.Knox’s sharp eyes immediately caught sight of Gregory sitting near the street curb. His expression darkened as he hurried down the walkway.“Sir!” Knox called out, stepping beside the wheelchair. “Are you alright? What happened here?”“A minor issue with the staff,” Gregory answered calmly. “Take me back inside.”Knox’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t ask any further questions. Without saying a word, four guards quickly formed a secure perimeter around the wheelchair as Vance pushed Gregory back up the ramp toward the main doors.Inside the lobby, Dr. Miller was frantically trying to clean up the reception counter when the heavy glass doors opened. Seeing Knox and six armed guards march into the building, the director nearly tripped over his own dress shoes in panic.The men quickly hid t

The dining hall of the Hilton mansion was filled with the warm, mouth-watering aroma of a home-cooked feast.Unlike the formal banquets where caterers served small, delicate portions, tonight’s dinner had been personally prepared by Catherine. The table was covered with big platters of braised beef short ribs swimming in a savory sauce, garlic butter lobster tails, steamed sea bass with ginger, truffle mashed potatoes, and a spread of roasted vegetables.Catherine moved around the head of the table with a bright smile, holding a serving spoon.“Julian, try these short ribs,” Catherine said warmly, placing a tender piece of beef directly onto Gregory’s plate. “I had the chef source the meat directly from our private farm this morning. You need to eat more.”Gregory looked down at his plate, a genuine feeling of warmth touching his heart. “Thank you, Mom. It smells nice.”He picked up his fork and took a bite. The meat was so soft that it practically melted on his tongue, rich with garl