2025-05-11 18:03:14
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CHAPTER 180
The heels hit the marble hard, sharp, staccato, and swift.Heads turned. Brows lifted. Even Rafael’s smirk flickered as the voice came closer.“I said—WHAT. HAPPENED. HERE?!”Then the source appeared.A woman. Early forties. Regal. Black power suit sharp enough to cut egos in half, heels so tall they dared gravity to test her. Her shoulder-length hair was perfectly pinned, her designer bag clutched like a weapon, and her glare—oh, her glare—could’ve turned diamonds to dust.She stormed into the boutique like she owned it.Because she did.Cassandra Vale. CEO of the Vale Luxury Group. The woman behind half the boutique leases in the building. Ruthless. Brilliant. And dangerously unimpressed.Rafael’s grin returned, but this time it was cautious.“Cass. You’re just in time—”“Shut. Up.” Her words were ice, delivered with a smile colder than the Arctic.Her eyes snapped to the boutique manager, trembling in the corner.“You. Talk. Now.”The manager stumbled. “Uh—Mr. Everhart was here br
CHAPTER 179
The room went silent again, not from tension, but curiosity. The new man had the kind of presence that demanded attention. Slick, arrogant, dressed in an all-black ensemble that screamed “money” and “menace.” A gold watch peeked beneath his sleeve, the kind people wore not to tell time, but to own it.Javier turned fully now, eyes locked on the man like a sniper sighting a target. His expression didn’t change—still quiet, composed, and unimpressed.But the man smirked wider.“What? No hug for an old friend?”He stepped further into the boutique, the floor-length glass doors closing behind him with a click. His shoes—shiny, imported, expensive—made no sound, unlike Gideon’s once had. This man didn’t stomp.He prowled.Javier’s silence was permission.So the man continued.“Oh, that’s right. We’re not friends, are we? You’re the awkward charity case that used to sit at the end of the schoolyard bench with a book while the rest of us lived.”Someone gasped quietly.Another whispered, “He
CHAPTER 178
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?!”The voice cracked through the tension like thunder through glass.People turned as one, necks craning, eyes narrowing—just in time to see a tall, broad-shouldered man barrel through the boutique entrance. He was dressed in navy—a custom suit with aggressive tailoring—but his expression had no polish. It was raw, furious, and familiar.Roman Crane.Benedict’s older brother.A man known more for temper than tact. For deals done behind cigar smoke and clenched fists. His presence was a signal flare—things were about to turn ugly.He stalked forward, his eyes zeroing in on Javier like a heat-seeking missile. “You smug little coward. I should’ve known you’d hide in a boutique while burning my family to the ground.”Javier paused, his hand just brushing the exit door. He turned back slowly.Not a word.Just a glance.Roman sneered. “What? No cryptic line this time? No silent little smirk? You Everharts really do act like the world should worship your mu
CHAPTER 177
“THERE YOU ARE, YOU BASTARD!”The voice tore through the air like claws on glass. Loud. Unfiltered. Dripping with venom.Heads whipped toward the source.Storming into the boutique was a young man in a blood-red blazer, all fire and fury. Expensive cologne wafted with every exaggerated step. His jaw was tight, his lips curled into a sneer that could cut through glass.He pointed directly at Javier.“You think you can just ruin people’s lives and walk away like some kind of invisible god?”Javier turned slowly. No change in his expression. Calm. Controlled. Unmoving.The red-blazer man scoffed at the silence. “Oh, what’s the matter? Cat got your tongue now that someone finally says it to your face?”People were already backing away, forming a loose circle around the scene. Phones began to rise—some pretending to check messages while they hit “record.”“That’s the guy?” someone whispered.“Javier Everhart. I heard he just had someone arrested.”“He looks like someone’s accountant, not a
CHAPTER 176
“WHAT HAPPENED HERE?!”The voice cracked like thunder against the boutique’s opulent walls. Firm. Authoritative. Laced with outrage.Everyone turned in unison.Striding through the boutique entrance was a man in a sharp navy-blue uniform—Security Director of Avalon Mall. Behind him, two more security officers flanked the doorway, hands resting on their belts, eyes scanning the scene with suspicion.The boutique manager rushed forward, flustered. “M-Mr. Calhoun, sir. There’s been a misunderstanding—”“Misunderstanding?” Calhoun snapped, raising an eyebrow. “Because from what I saw on the surveillance monitors, a group of customers was openly mocking and harassin
CHAPTER 175
“Ugh, seriously? You’d think malls had better standards these days.”The voice rang out sharp and haughty, echoing off the marble tiles of the luxury wing of the Avalon Mall. A group of well-dressed socialites, young heirs and heiresses in their designer wear, clustered near the display of a new boutique launch. And all their attention was fixed—not on the new collection—but on the man quietly browsing a modest rack in the corner.Javier Everhart.Plain grey shirt. Dark trousers. No logos, no sheen, no statement.Invisible to those who never learned to see power without labels.“Is he lost?” a girl with platinum curls and oversized sunglasses whispered, deliberately loud. “Someone tell him the discount store’s two floors down.”Her companion, a tall man in an obnoxiously bright Versace jacket, snorted. “I didn’t know janitors shopped here.”Laughter followed.Javier said nothing. He was examining a pair of cufflinks—modest but elegant. Something old-world. Understated. Just the way he
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