2025-10-17 18:30:59At the far corner, by a window, Ava Bennet, Sophia’s mother, sat with a delicate porcelain cup raised gracefully to her lips at the hotel lounge.
Her friends sat around her in a circle of admiration. “Truly, Ava,” murmured Helena, the plumpest of the group, adjusting her pearl necklace as though it might impress the hotel staff. “Your Sophia is so impressive. Hosting a banquet in this hotel, of all places! And then booking the presidential suite for you… If it were my daughter, she wouldn’t even dare step foot in here. The price of tea alone could swallow her month’s salary.” The others chuckled, shaking their heads with envy and awe. “My son is still asking me for money every other month. And here you are, living in a presidential suite, being paraded like royalty. You’re blessed, Ava. Absolutely blessed.” Helena chimed in with a self-deprecating laugh. Their voices overlapped. Ava lowered her gaze, tracing the rim of her cup as though embarrassed by their words. She let them linger just long enough before answering in the soft, modest tone she had perfected over the years. “Oh, please,” she said, giving a little wave of her hand. “I can’t take the credit. It’s all thanks to Ryan. He arranged everything yesterday—the banquet, the invitations, the suite. He insisted. I merely accepted his kindness.” At once, the table shifted. The women leaned in, their eyes sparkling like cats catching the glint of light. “Ryan?” Helena asked, her brows arched so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline. “You don’t mean Ryan, the one who’s been courting Sophia?” Doris added, practically whispering the word “courting” as though afraid the walls themselves might overhear. They began to murmur excitedly. “I told you from the start—she has standards. Why would she bother with a worthless man like Brandon?!” “Look around. This kind of luxury belongs to Ryan. Brandon wouldn’t even dare to imagine it.” “So it’s true then? Sophia finally accepted him?” Ava’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles. Gasps and exclamations followed, and one of them actually clapped her hands together like a child. “Oh, Ava, congratulations! This is marvelous news. You're lucky to have a son-in-law like Ryan—handsome, successful, generous. Who could ask for more?” Doris leaned forward as she reached for Ava’s hand. “You must be so proud. Tell us—have they chosen the wedding date already?” Ava stood smoothly. “Come. Why just speculate? Let me show you the wedding home Ryan prepared for Sophia. It’s upstairs, in this very hotel,” she said, her voice carrying a quiet authority. Chairs scraped back as the women gathered their bags and scarves, tripping over themselves to follow her. “A wedding home?” “Here? Oh, how extravagant!” “This Ryan is a treasure!” Their voices filled the hall as Ava led them toward the elevator. She was floating, basking in the reflected glow of Ryan’s wealth and generosity. Each compliment felt like a crown jewel, confirming her place as the mother of the most enviable daughter in their circle. Meanwhile, several floors above, Jessica stood in stunned silence. The penthouse Brandon brought her to was unlike anything she had ever seen. The walls seemed to breathe, opening into a sweeping view of the city below. Skyscrapers caught the afternoon sun, while cars streamed through the streets like glowing veins of light. The living room was a masterpiece. Glass, marble, and velvet were woven together in quiet luxury. In one corner stood a grand piano, and nearby, a bar lined with fine spirits shimmered beneath the soft glow. “It’s beautiful,” Jessica whispered, almost afraid to breathe. She turned slowly with her hand brushing over the back of a leather chair. “Too beautiful. Mr Scott, this is…” “Perfect?” he offered with a half-smile, watching her with quiet intensity. She nodded but pulled back slightly, her expression clouding. “Yes, but it doesn’t feel like it’s for me. I don’t deserve this. Not after everything.” Her voice cracked. The memories flooded back uninvited. She remembered the collapse of Marion Investments—the creditors circling like vultures, the friends who once praised her success disappearing as if she carried a curse, the shame of walking into a room only to feel every gaze turn away, and the crushing isolation that followed. Brandon stepped closer. “Miss Marion, don’t talk like that. You built something remarkable once, and you’ll build it again. This—” he gestured around them “—is just a start.” She shook her head, biting her lip. “But why would you… after everything, why would you do this for me?” Brandon knew he had to give her a solid, convincing reason. He paused for a moment before speaking softly. “Because I’ve admired your diligence and determination for a long time — not just what you did for Marion Investments, but your drive and vision. When your company was thriving, I wanted to invest, but I couldn’t. You were untouchable.” Her breath caught. “You… you wanted to invest?” “Yes.” He held her gaze, unflinching. “So think of this apartment as my investment now. Not in a company, but in you. When Milton Investments rises again—and I know it will—I’ll share in that success. Until then, let this place be yours.” Her throat tightened as emotion rushed over her. No one had said words like that to her in months. Since the bankruptcy, everyone had left her. Even family friends stayed away. She thought all she had left was loneliness and silence. But now Brandon was here, offering not just keys—but trust. Her hand trembled as she reached for them. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You don’t know how much this means.” “Call me if you need anything,” Brandon said softly. “Anything at all.” They walked together toward the elevator with Jessica still clutching the keys as though they might dissolve if she loosened her grip. The moment the elevator doors parted fully, there was Ava with her eyes widening in horror as they locked onto the pair. For one sharp moment, silence reigned. Then Ava’s voice rang out. “Brandon?” Her words trembled with shock. “How… how did you end up here?”
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Chapter 184
The decision was sealed the moment Alexander nodded.For a brief second, silence swallowed the living room. No one spoke. No one questioned what had just been agreed upon. The air itself seemed to hold its breath, as though the room understood that something irreversible had been set in motion.Victor was the first to move.He reached for his phone without ceremony, his expression calm, almost bored, as if this were nothing more than a routine business call. There was no flicker of doubt in his eyes, no hesitation in his hands. Men like Victor had long ago learned to separate consequence from conscience. When power ruled, morality became something flexible—something adjusted when it became inconvenient.He stepped away from the group, turning his back slightly as he dialed a number saved without a name.The phone rang once.Twice.Then the call connected.“Cole,” Victor said evenly. “We have a job.”Miles away, Cole Riven leaned back in his chair, one boot propped against the edge of
Chapter 183
Alexander’s living room slowly regained its earlier rhythm, though the tension never fully left. The sharp scent of spilled wine still hung stubbornly in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of polished wood and expensive cologne. Somewhere outside, a car passed, its tires hissing softly against the road, a reminder that the world beyond these walls continued as normal. Inside, however, something had shifted. His friends drew closer together, their movements subtle but instinctive, as though proximity alone might restore the confidence that had cracked moments earlier.The shattered glass on the marble floor had been pushed aside, but the dark stain of wine remained, an unspoken reminder of how quickly certainty could break.One of them, Victor, was the first to speak. He leaned back against the arm of the couch, crossing his arms with a scoff that sounded deliberately casual. “Honestly, Alex, those men were never up to the task,” he said dismissively. “You trusted the wrong people.
Chapter 182
Alexander froze where he stood. For a split second, he was convinced the voice coming from his phone was distorted, that the words had twisted themselves into something nonsensical. His mind rejected them outright. The laughter that had filled the room only moments earlier died instantly, cut off as if someone had slammed a door shut. The air felt heavier and charged. “What did you just say?” Alexander asked slowly. His tone was deceptively calm, too controlled, the kind of calm that came just before something broke. His eyes narrowed, and his fingers tightened around the phone until his knuckles paled. “Repeat yourself.” On the other end of the line, the man hesitated. Alexander could hear labored breathing, uneven and strained, and beneath it, the faint, unmistakable sound of pain being suppressed. “Sir…” the man began, then paused, as if bracing himself. “I said Brandon Scott defeated us.” Alexander blinked. Once. Twice. Then he laughed. It was a short, disbelieving so
Chapter 181
Alexander lounged in his sprawling living room. The scent of expensive wine mingled with the faint aroma of freshly lit candles, creating an atmosphere of leisure and indulgence, the kind that suggested nothing in the world could disturb the man who ruled this space. He sat back comfortably in his plush leather armchair, one leg crossed over the other, a deep burgundy glass of aged wine resting loosely in his hand. He swirled the liquid slowly, watching the wine cling to the sides of the glass as though savoring the ritual more than the drink itself. Around him, his closest friends laughed lightly, their voices blending with the soft hum of background music. Their chatter echoed off the high walls, filled with careless amusement and easy confidence, but Alexander’s mind was not fully with them. He was already looking ahead. “Tonight,” he began at last, his voice smooth and controlled, cutting through the laughter with effortless authority. The room grew quieter as his friends
Chapter 180
Brandon’s eyes flicked rapidly across the room as the men lunged toward him. Yet, deep within him, a memory stirred—a memory of years spent learning the fundamentals of martial training. He hadn’t practiced seriously in a long time, letting time and comfort dull the edge of his skill, but it had never left him entirely. And now, it was as though the universe had presented him with the perfect test. The first man swung a massive fist toward Brandon’s head. He ducked instinctively, feeling the rush of air as the man’s punch missed by inches. His body reacted on memory alone. With a swift motion, Brandon jabbed upward with his elbow, striking the attacker’s shoulder in a precise, controlled motion. The man grunted, staggered slightly, but Brandon didn’t pause. He shifted his weight, spinning around to deliver a calculated kick that caught another man approaching from the side. The force wasn’t meant to maim, but it threw the attacker off balance, and he crashed into the wall with a loud
Chapter 179
Brandon’s words barely finished echoing in the room when the men burst into laughter. It wasn’t the kind of laughter that carried humor or lightness. It was sharp, mocking, filled with certainty and contempt, a sound that sliced through the tense air like a jagged blade. It bounced off the walls of the bedroom, ricocheting from the ceiling and hard wooden floors, making the space feel suddenly smaller, tighter, as though the walls themselves were closing in. Each echo seemed to press down on Brandon’s shoulders, but he refused to show fear. “Missed our way?” the man closest to Brandon repeated, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, his voice thick with derision. “You really think we walk into a house without knowing exactly where we’re going?” Another man shook his head slowly, a smirk twisting his features. “That’s what happens when someone lives too comfortably. You forget the world doesn’t always knock before it enters.” Brandon’s jaw tightened, but he kept his expre
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