From Ex-Convict To General

THAT FORD BOY, THE USELESS SON-IN-LAW"Dorian Ford, you’re nothing but a disgrace. Sign these papers and stop pretending you’re my husband."Olivia Steele's voice cut across the prison visiting room like a whip. Sharp, cold, and loaded with venom.The air in the room shifted. Heads turned. Guards paused. Even other prisoners being visited stopped to watch. The words echoed against the walls, bouncing off the metal bars and concrete floor, until every ear had caught them.Dorian Ford sat on one side of the table, his wrists cuffed to the iron loop bolted down. He lifted his eyes slowly to the woman across from him. Olivia Steele, his wife, his betrayer, gave him a final blow.Her black hair was tied neatly, her expensive coat rested perfectly on her shoulders, and her chin was raised with pride. Beside her, was her younger brother, Ethan Steele, grinning wickedly, and just behind, her mother, Margaret Steele, her arms crossed, eyes narrowed in pleasure.On the table between them lay a

I ONLY ROT WHERE I CHOOSE TO OLIVIA.OLIVIA'S POVWhile Dorian Ford was in prison, Olivia Steele lived as though he had never existed.She rose early, dressed in sharp suits, and walked into Steele Enterprises with her chin high. The staff whispered that their boss looked stronger than ever, her confidence radiated with every step, her voice cut like a blade in meetings, and her eyes carried no trace of uncertainty. She looked like a woman reborn.To the world, Olivia was thriving, but inside, she was fighting her demons.The divorce was final, the burden gone, and now she could breathe again. At least, that was what she told herself whenever her chest felt too tight.Sometimes, though, when she was alone, the memory of that prison hall crept back, the sight of a guard saluting Dorian, as if he were someone important. She would scoff, shake her head, and whisper, "Meaningless. He was nothing. He’ll always be nothing."It was a lie she had trained herself to believe.This afternoon, ho

"Walk with me."Alder Mark’s voice carried like a command, yet it wasn’t shouted. It didn’t need to be. The authority in it was heavier than any raised tone.The entire restaurant froze. Forks hovered, while conversations died, and even the music seemed to dull. All eyes turned between the powerful Alder Mark and the man everyone believed to be a disgraced convict.Dorian rose with calm ease, his chair scraping softly against the marble floor. His eyes didn’t leave Alder’s. For a long heartbeat, they stared at one another, recognition and power passing between them, invisible but undeniable.Then Dorian nodded once. "Lead the way."The two men walked toward the private lounge at the back of Alvero’s, waiters scrambling to open the doors, their heads bowed low. Not a soul dared to breathe too loudly until the doors clicked shut behind them.The lounge was quiet, lit only by a chandelier’s soft glow. Alder moved with the quiet confidence of a man who had stood in the halls of presidents

THE GALA DAYThe Grand Marlowe Hotel blazed with gold light, its chandeliers pouring fire into the night. The gala had already begun, laughter and music spilling out like waves.Dorian Ford stepped through the entrance with Selene Cross clinging to his arm like it was her lifeline. She leaned closer than necessary, her perfume rich and intentional. Every step she took, a commanding aura."Don’t look so stuffy," Selene whispered, lips close to his ear. "Half the room already wants to know why you’re here with me. Shall we give them something to gossip about?"Dorian’s gaze stayed forward, calm and steady. "Do whatever pleases you."Her smile curled. "Oh, I intend to."Heads turned as they walked in. Gossip moved around. Selene loved every moment of it because Dorian wasn't just tall and intimidating, he was extremely handsome. Dorian on the other hand, ignored it, until his eyes landed on her.Olivia Steele.She froze, her emerald dress clashing with the sudden paleness in her face. Sh

The safehouse was still. The only sound was the faint hum of the generator and the ticking of the wall clock. On the table lay the photograph Calder had placed down, a grainy image but clear enough.Leonard Kane, his smug face caught mid-smile, shaking hands with a hooded man.And beside him...Dorian’s jaw tightened. His fingers curled around the edge of the table until his knuckles went white.Rowan squinted at the photo. "No way. Tell me that’s not who I think it is."Dorian’s voice was flat, cold. "It is."Harris leaned closer, his normally calm face hardening. "Commander Rourke. Your old superior."Rowan shot upright, his chair scraping the floor. "The same bastard who praised you at the farewell parade? Who swore on his honor that he’d stand by you always?" His voice rose. "That lying snake sold you out."Dorian didn’t move. His eyes stayed locked on the photograph, unreadable, but the silence around him was heavy.Calder spoke carefully. "We checked it twice, General, Rourke’s