The painting stretched across the entire wall of the study. Green hills. A silver river cutting through the valley. Horses grazing under a wide sky. And on the cliff above it all, a lone figure in black, standing still as stone.Samuel Graves stared at that figure the way a man stares at a grave he visits every Sunday."Five hundred years," he whispered. His fingers traced the edge of his walking cane. "Five hundred years, and not one soul has broken that seal. Must I wait another lifetime, son?"He had lived through centuries. Wars. Plagues. The rise and fall of cities. He'd buried his name, built a fortune, and worn the mask of a successful businessman so the modern world wouldn't lock him in a lab. All for one reason. One impossible hope.Five hundred years ago, the warrior known as Ethan Carter — his boy — had been struck down by an enemy. His spirit was chained beneath the river, locked inside a water seal so strong that no living person could crack it. The only way to break it:

The city lights blurred past the window as Ethan drove Olivia home.His hands rested easy on the steering wheel, but his mind was nowhere near the road. It was stuck on one image. Sandra Voss. Handing a ring to Olivia. Smiling like a mother.*Liv's mother. The woman who helped destroy my family is Liv's mother.*"Liv, can I ask you something?" He glanced at her.She leaned back in the seat, smiling. "Ask me anything. A hundred questions. I'll answer every single one for my handsome boyfriend."He almost smiled. Almost. "The woman at the mall. Is she really your mom?"Olivia turned to face him fully. "You saw her? Why didn't you come over? I would've introduced you." She pouted."I wasn't ready." His voice was quiet. "So. She is your mother.""It's fine, really. I can introduce you to my stepmom instead.""Stepmom?"Olivia nodded. Her expression shifted — softer, sadder. "My biological mom divorced my dad a few years ago. She married some businessman named Richard Carter. I stayed with

Logan Foster knocked on the office door and stepped inside.Richard looked up from his phone. "What's wrong with you? You look like hell."Logan dropped to one knee.Richard set the phone down slowly. His eyebrows pulled together. "What are you doing?""I need to tell you something, sir." Logan's voice was flat. Dead. "Yesterday, Ethan Carter's men took me. Held me in his basement. He injected me with the same poison I used on him three years ago." He swallowed. "He said the only way I get the antidote is if I work for him. So I agreed. I had no choice."Richard's palm hit the desk. Hard. The coffee mug rattled."How?" Richard's voice was a growl. "You're the strongest man I have. The best. And you just *let* him take you?""There were too many of them, sir. I was alone. Visiting my wife. They came out of nowhere — ten, maybe fifteen men. All trained. All armed." Logan kept his head down. "No one fights their way out of that."Richard leaned back. Rubbed his face with both hands. "So

Richard Carter sat in his home office, laughing as he scrolled through the news on his laptop. The air conditioning hummed quietly, blowing cold air over his expensive mahogany desk. Beside him, Sandra Voss leaned over his shoulder, a smug smile on her glossy lips.The headlines were perfect. *Vanguard Group CEO Flees Media Through Back Door.* *Ethan Carter Silent on Toxic Perfume Scandal.*"I told you he'd panic," Richard said, leaning back in his leather chair. "Take that, you rebellious brat. You think you can fight your own father with your little fortune? This is what happens when you cross me."Sandra rested a manicured hand on his shoulder. "He'll probably call you soon, begging for a retraction. Don't give it to him. Let him learn his lesson." She loved watching him dance on her strings."Of course, honey," Richard said. "He crossed the line canceling that contract."Then, the screen refreshed. A breaking news alert popped up, bold and red.*Vanguard Group Denies Rumors via Of

The cameras rolled. The microphones were shoved forward like weapons.Richard Carter stood on the steps of Pinnacle Industries, his suit pressed, his tie straight, his face arranged into an expression of careful humility. The morning sun caught the sweat at his temples."I want to sincerely apologize to Mr. Carter and the Vanguard Group," Richard said, his voice steady for the cameras. "The reports about harmful ingredients were false. My team investigated, and the claims were fabricated. I also apologize for not informing Vanguard about my decision to produce an affordable version of Star Fragrances for smaller markets. My intentions were good. I simply failed to respect the terms of our contract."He paused. Swallowed. Forced a warm smile."I should have spoken to my business partner first. That was my mistake."The reporters shouted questions. Richard raised a hand, nodded politely, and turned back toward the building. The moment he was out of frame, the smile dropped.---Ethan wa