2025-09-02 17:22:09“Thank you, Mr. Caleum. We’ll always be expecting your next visit. Your car is waiting out front.”
The store manager repeatedly bowed while addressing Evan after discovering that his membership in Prive Noir was of the highest tier.
The black card Evan held belonged to an extremely exclusive tier. When the manager checked the card’s details on the official website, he was stunned.
Evan gave Vivianne a small signal to start walking. He gently wrapped his arm around his beautiful wife, who still couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Behind them, several staff members carried around fifteen shopping bags full of purchases made by Evan and Vivianne.
“There are so many things I want to ask you... but the doubt in my heart has left me speechless,” said Vivianne.
Evan simply smiled, helping Vivianne into the car, then looking deeply into her eyes as the door closed.
“Don’t doubt what I’ve done. Everything will eventually answer your questions perfectly. For now, just enjoy today—at least you got lots of nice clothes, right?”
Vivianne lightly hit Evan’s cheek, her face annoyed.
“To be honest, Evan, I could have bought those clothes with my own money! Don’t act all mysterious. I’ll make you explain how you got that black card! And most importantly, don’t forget—you only have five days to convince me!”Evan’s reaction reassured her that Vivianne’s love hadn’t disappeared. He gazed warmly at the long-haired woman now looking out the window.
The sorrow in her eyes struck Evan hard.
“I have to fix this. I have to make Darian take responsibility for his promise,” he muttered.
Evan touched Vivianne’s shoulder, prompting her to turn in confusion.
“What is it?”“I just remembered... I left a few things at the hospital! I was careless—ugh, I know,” Evan said anxiously.
“Huh, so? Let’s turn around and pick them up. I thought you didn’t bring anything from prison. You had only your backpack—and it’s right there in the trunk, isn’t it?”
“No, I had something in my pocket. It must’ve fallen out at the hospital. You don’t need to come. I’ll go back myself.”
“What do you mean?” Vivianne asked, puzzled.
Evan tapped the back of the driver’s seat.
“Sir, please stop. I’d like to get out here.”“Evan, what are you doing?!” Vivianne grabbed his arm, wanting an explanation.
“Relax. You go ahead and return home. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“But—” Vivianne cut herself off, clearly giving in. “Fine. Do what you want, Evan. Just don’t forget—tonight is dinner with my family. You have to come.”
“Sure, honey. Don’t worry!”
Evan caressed her face gently and leaned in to kiss her forehead, but Vivianne turned away.
Still, Evan wasn’t disappointed. The fact that Vivianne still wanted him at the family dinner was proof that the love they shared since university still lingered.
Once Evan got out and retrieved two of their shopping bags from the trunk, the car pulled away. He waited until it had completely disappeared from view before hailing another taxi.
“Where to, sir?” the driver asked as Evan stepped in.
“VIREX Group,” Evan replied, his eyes full of fire.
Anger toward Darian boiled in his veins. His hands clenched tightly.
During the ride, Evan’s mind kept circling back to the night of the incident. Guilt and rage swelled within him.
“We’re here,” said the driver.
Evan’s sharp gaze shifted to the towering, luxurious building on his right. He handed the driver a $50 bill.
“Sir, this is—”
Before the driver could finish, Evan was already stepping out.With confident strides, Evan walked into the lobby, instantly drawing attention. The ring he wore exuded a strange aura, making him appear radiant and dignified to onlookers.
He had changed into a sleek black suit, white shirt, black slacks, and had sunglasses tucked into the middle of his shirt. His sharp features and refined presence made him look flawless.
The receptionist, stunned and nervous, stumbled over her words.
“C-Can I help you?”“Yes. I’d like to speak with Mr. Darian Voss. Is he in?” Evan asked, offering a charming half-smile that left her dazed.
“Y-Yeah. Just a moment.”
Usually, she’d have asked more about the appointment—but Evan’s polished appearance made her assume he was someone important.
“Hello, Mr. V. There’s a visitor here for Mr. Voss.”
After ending the call, she looked at Evan.
“Please wait here, Mr. V. Mr. Voss’s secretary will be with you shortly.”Evan winked playfully at her, making the poor receptionist practically collapse into her seat.
“That was... odd,” Evan muttered.
He sat down, observing the grand architecture. The last time he was here, this company wasn’t nearly as successful.
“I know exactly where the money came from to grow this place... I still remember Marshall’s explanation about the trading schemes used by underling families like Darian’s,” Evan said to himself.
So lost in thought was he, that he didn’t notice a tall, skinny man in glasses approaching with a shocked expression.
“Evan?!”
Evan turned and gave a slight nod. He recognized the man—it was Vincent Drex, his former university classmate.
“Vincent Drex. Long time no see,” Evan replied, approaching casually.
But the atmosphere shifted as Vincent suddenly snapped at the receptionist.
“Hey, you! Get over here!”
“Yes, Mr. V,” she replied, panicked.
“What the hell were you thinking?! Letting someone like him in?! Do you even know who he is? He’s dangerous! You could get fired for this!”
Vincent turned to Evan, eyes blazing with old jealousy. Evan had always been the smart, talented, and popular one. Then, to make things worse, he married Vivianne, the woman Vincent secretly wanted.
The only satisfaction Vincent ever had was hearing about Evan’s imprisonment for rape.
And now, seeing him looking stronger and more elegant than ever, Vincent’s jealousy flared up again.
He scoffed, hands in pockets, and approached slowly.
“I must admit—your confidence is beyond belief. No wonder our receptionist was fooled. You disguised yourself well... for a rapist.”
“What?!” the receptionist gasped, covering her mouth.
“Yes. How does it feel, admiring a rapist? I hope you’ve learned your lesson—never let a stranger in again.”
Evan chuckled lightly, unfazed.
“You’re laughing?! Disgusting. Call security and get him out of here!” Vincent shouted.
“Don’t follow his orders,” Evan said firmly to the receptionist. “Just do your job.”
His chilling aura compelled her to return to her post, as if hypnotized—even as Vincent called her back.
“And you—my business is with Darian Voss, not you, Vincent Drex!”
“You’ll only meet him in your dreams. People like you don’t belong in the same room as Mr. Voss!”
Evan, pushed past his limit, suddenly made a move to walk toward the elevator.
“How dare you?!”
Vincent grabbed Evan’s jacket, stopping him.
Standing face-to-face, Vincent sneered, “You think you can just ignore me?!”“Come on, Vincent, I’m here for something important. I really didn’t want to—”
Vincent’s punch came without warning, but Evan caught his arm mid-air.
“Argh! Bastard!” Vincent yelled.
Evan smirked darkly, then grabbed Vincent by the neck and slammed him into the floor.
“I just said I didn’t want to use violence. Sorry, Vincent.”
He released him and calmly resumed his walk to the elevator.
But Vincent, humiliated, screamed, “Receptionist! Call security, now! Hit the emergency button!”
An alarm blared. Within seconds, eight security guards rushed in. Evan turned, eyeing them as curious clients and employees gathered around to watch the scene.
“Arrest him! He assaulted me!” Vincent shrieked.
“You really want to do this the hard way,” Evan muttered.
Vincent grinned, phone in hand, ready to record Evan’s downfall—
But what happened next shocked everyone.Evan leapt into the air, delivering a spinning kick that knocked out three guards instantly.
His movements were fluid and precise—almost inhuman. He flipped and slammed another few to the ground. Within moments, the guards lay groaning on the floor.
“Whoa! Did you see that?!”
“Who is he?! He moved like a god!”
Whispers of awe rippled through the crowd. Vincent’s body shook. Especially when Evan turned and locked eyes with him.
“Call more people if you want, Vincent. I’m not done yet.”
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
163
The first week of January brought a deep, steady rhythm to Villa Seraphine. The initial holiday quiet had seamlessly dissolved into a period of quiet productivity, where long-term plans were drafted, refined, and set into motion with the calm efficiency that defined the Caelis-LaRue household.High above the coastline, the sky over Saint-Tropez was a pale, icy blue, washed clean by the brisk mistral wind that blew across the peninsula. Sunlight spilled into the villa’s upper gallery, reflecting off polished marble floors and highlighting the rich textures of architectural linen, dark walnut, and brushed brass.Inside the gallery's private drafting wing, Leo sat at a wide, tilted oak table. At thirteen, his focus was unshakeable. A physical scale model of the Lyon Foundation's central library complex sat before him, illuminated by a warm balance lamp. He was using a fine scalpel to trim a strip of miniature timber veneer, fitting it carefully along the interior curve of the model’s upp
162
On the first morning of the new year, the sky above Saint-Tropez opened into a brilliant vault of pale turquoise. A light, crisp northern breeze swept down from the snow-capped Alps, carrying the sharp scent of mountain pine across the granite headlands to mingle with the clean, briny spray of the sea.At Villa Seraphine, the morning began not with the sharp ring of secure communications or the tense briefing of security personnel, but with the quiet, rhythmic crunch of gravel underfoot.Evan walked along the upper stone terrace, dressed in a thick dark navy cardigan over an open-collared white shirt. His dark eyes scanned the wide expanse of the Mediterranean—not looking for thermal signatures or unfamiliar vessels, but watching the way the pale golden sunlight danced across the tranquil, obsidian swells. His posture was broad, imposing, and entirely relaxed, the physical embodiment of a man who had secured his world so completely that nothing remained to threaten it.He paused near
161
A crisp alpine frost glittered on the stone balustrades of Villa Seraphine, while the Mediterranean below lay motionless, a vast sheet of pale sapphire reflecting the soft lavender and gold of the early winter dawn.Inside the villa’s primary conservatory, warmth radiated from a monumental hearth constructed of rough-hewn granite. Floor-to-ceiling glass arches offered an unobstructed panorama of the coastline, casting long, geometric patterns of golden light across the terracotta tile floor.Evan stood near the center archway, holding a porcelain cup of dark roasted coffee. Dressed in a dark charcoal cashmere sweater and tailored trousers, he watched the distant horizon where the sun was slowly lifting over the sea. His broad shoulders were relaxed, his posture easy and unhurried—the quiet, grounded presence of a man whose sanctuary was absolute.Beside him, Vivienne sat at a wide teak cutting table draped with swatches of heavy midnight-blue velvet and hand-woven Lyon silks. She wore
160
As the final days of December approached, an extraordinary tranquility settled over the estate. The morning sun rose over the Gulf of Saint-Tropez in a breathtaking wash of pale gold and liquid amber, clearing the thin morning haze off the water and warming the ancient stone terraces of Villa Seraphine.In the long, sun-drenched corridor connecting the private residential quarters to the design wing, the quiet rustle of silk and the soft hum of quiet activity created a comforting rhythm. The estate was entering its end-of-year period—not a time of frantic deadlines or urgent security measures, but a season of reflection, consolidation, and quiet celebration.Inside the spacious private study on the main floor, Evan sat behind a massive desk of reclaimed olive wood. The room was bathed in golden light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling arched windows that opened onto the lower orange groves. Dressed in a dark navy knit shirt with his sleeves pushed up, Evan was reviewing the final
159
The morning after Christmas broke over Saint-Tropez with a brilliant, golden stillness. The light dusting of snow that had blanketed the granite terraces the night before had melted under the early sun, leaving the cypress trees and ancient olive groves dripping with clear, crystalline water. The air was sharp, cold, and invigorated by the fresh alpine wind blowing gently off the distant mountain peaks.Inside the quiet sanctuary of the villa's private design gallery, morning light poured through the tall arched windows, illuminating the vast oak cutting tables, shelves of Lyon silk rolls, and framed architectural renderings that lined the whitewashed stone walls.Vivienne stood at the central work table wearing a dark grey cashmere dress, her hair swept up into an effortless, graceful knot. She was examining a series of hand-woven embroidery swatches destined for the upcoming spring foundation exhibition in Lucerne. Beside her, a silver pot of herbal tea steamed softly in the cool ro
158
Christmas Eve on the Côte d’Azur brought a rare, tranquil magic to Villa Seraphine. A soft, powdery dusting of snow—an uncommon gift from the northern winds sweeping off the Maritime Alps—lay lightly across the upper granite terraces, dusting the dark needles of the stone pines and outlining the stone balustrades in clean white lace.Far below, the Mediterranean remained a deep, motionless indigo, reflecting the pale silver glow of a full moon that hung high in a cloudless, star-dusted sky.Inside the grand living room, the atmosphere was bathed in a deep, welcoming warmth. A massive fire of seasoned olive logs crackled inside the stone hearth, sending showers of golden sparks up the chimney and filling the room with the fragrance of burning wood, dry fir branches, and sweet cinnamon.The floor-to-ceiling arched windows were left uncovered, allowing the moonlight to blend seamlessly with the warm amber glow of the room's iron chandeliers and table lamps.Evan stood by the hearth, look
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