2025-02-24 17:41:22Silas stepped into the luxurious lobby of the Grand Regency Hotel. The golden chandeliers sparkled above, their light reflecting off the marble floors.
Elegantly dressed guests moved about, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Silas adjusted his worn-out jacket and stepped toward the reception desk. The receptionist barely glanced at him as he approached. “Yes?” she said curtly, her manicured fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I’d like a room for the night,” Silas said quietly, his voice steady despite her dismissive tone. Her gaze flicked over him, her expression skeptical. “Do you have a reservation?” “No. I need something available now. VVIP section, please.” She raised an eyebrow, her fingers pausing mid-air. “VVIP?” she repeated, as though the very word coming from his lips was a mistake. “Yes,” Silas replied, his tone calm but firm. “Is that a problem?” The receptionist’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “We don’t usually take walk-ins for the VVIP section, especially without a reservation.” Silas met her gaze. “I’ll pay upfront.” Her expression didn’t soften. “Your payment method?” Without a word, Silas reached into his pocket and placed the sleek green card the butler had given him on the counter. The receptionist’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing in suspicion. “This…” she began, picking up the card delicately. “This is a premium card.” “Yes, it is,” Silas replied, his tone clipped. “Now, can you confirm the booking?” “I’ll need a moment to verify, we need to make sure it’s not stolen” she said, examining the card as though it might bite her, while her eyes bore into Silas’s body. Her gaze flicked to him again, doubt clear on her face. “You don’t look like—” Silas interrupted her. “Like someone who carries a card like that? Go ahead, check it.” The receptionist gave a tight smile. “As you wish.” She proceeded to slip the card into the reader, her eyes darting between the screen and Silas. Before she could begin the process, loud laughter echoed through the lobby. Silas turned, his body stiffening. Damien. The man strolled in, his arm wrapped around a petite brunette in a shimmering skimpy red dress. Her laughter was high and carefree as she leaned into him. Silas’s chest tightened. He hadn’t expected to see Damien again so soon, and certainly not here, with another woman. “What about Lilian?” Silas muttered under his breath, his mind racing. Weren’t they supposed to be together now that she had discarded him? As if sensing his thoughts, Damien’s sharp eyes caught sight of Silas. His steps slowed, and his expression shifted into one of amused disbelief. “Well, look who it is,” Damien said loudly, whispering something to the woman, who giggled and walked ahead to the lounge. He sauntered over, his smirk widening with every step. “Silas,” Damien said, his voice dripping with mock surprise. “Of all the places in the city, I find you here? What are you doing? Did Lilian send you to spy on me?” Silas frowned but kept his voice steady. “I’m here for my own reasons. Leave me alone.” Damien chuckled, leaning casually against the counter. “Your own reasons? Let me guess. You’re trying to find a way to cling to some shred of relevance, aren’t you?” Silas ignored him and turned back to the receptionist. “Is the card verified yet?” The receptionist hesitated, glancing between the two men. “Sir,” she asked Damien, “do you know him?” “Oh, I know him,” Damien replied, laughing. “He’s my ex’s pitiful excuse for a husband. Well, ex-husband now, I suppose. Isn’t that right, Silas?” Silas’s fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. “Keep my name out of your mouth.” Damien feigned a look of shock. “Oh, touchy, are we? I hit a nerve, didn’t I?” Damien’s laugh rang out again. “Don’t bother” he faced the receptionist. “Oh, come on, Silas. Why even bother? You don’t belong in a place like this. Honestly, it’s embarrassing to watch.” Silas turned to him, his expression calm but his voice firm. “Damien, I’m not here to argue. Walk away.” “Walk away?” Damien said, feigning shock. “You think you can order me around? Let me make something clear, Silas—you’re out of your depth.” “You know what? Get the guards to chase this stalker away before he brings his bad luck and wretchedness to this fine establishment.” Silas sighed, his patience fraying. “Why are you so fixated on me? Aren’t you supposed to be enjoying your evening with her?” Damien’s smirk faltered for a brief moment before he recovered. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself. I just find it amusing to see you in a place you clearly don’t belong.” “Damien, you’ve already taken everything you wanted from me,” Silas said, his voice low but firm. “Isn’t that enough?” Damien leaned closer, his tone mocking. “It’ll never be enough, Silas. Watching you squirm is just too entertaining.” The receptionist cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but we don’t accept stolen items.” “What do you mean stolen item? Did you even run the card through?.” Silas’s confused was glaring The receptionist , her gaze darting between Silas and Damien. “We all know this isn’t your card, you don’t even look the part.” Silas’s patience snapped. “Do you think I’d be standing here if it wasn’t? Run it again if you need to, but stop wasting my time.” Damien laughed again, stepping in front of Silas. “Oh, this is priceless. You actually think you’re convincing anyone? Tell you what, Silas—kneel and beg me for help, and maybe I’ll convince the manager to let you stay.”
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Silas stopped a few feet from him, his eyes cold. “You’ve got a big mouth for someone so small. A real man shouldn’t be seen in a compromising position with another woman.” Damien straightened, his smirk fading. “Careful, Silas. You’re in no position to talk to me like that. Do what I said you should do and I’ll save you from completely disgracing yourself.” Silas’s voice dropped. “You think I’ll kneel for you? I’d rather drink from a basket than beg for anything you offer.” Damien’s lips twitched, a mix of anger and amusement flashing across his face. “Is that so?” Silas turned to leave, his steps deliberate and slow, as if daring someone to stop him. “Wait!” the receptionist barked. Silas froze and turned back to the receptionist. “To hell with you all, you’re not worth any penny from me.”“Guards!” she called, her voice sharp. Two uniformed men emerged from the nearby hallway, their footsteps heavy against the polished floor. Silas turned, confusion etched on his face
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The lobby buzzed with tension as the flashing red and blue lights from outside pierced through the glass doors, casting eerie reflections on the polished marble floor. Two police officers entered, their boots clicking sharply against the tiles. Their stern expressions silenced the murmurs of the crowd gathered near the reception desk. Silas stood between the guards, his shoulders tense but his head held high. His sharp jawline was set in defiance, but a flicker of unease crossed his eyes. He couldn’t let them take him—not like this. “That’s him,” the receptionist said, pointing an accusatory finger. Her voice was tinged with disdain. “He tried using a stolen card. Likely a scammer.” Damien leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed, his posture radiating smug satisfaction. A triumphant grin stretched across his face, and he shot Silas a look that said, This is what you deserve.Beside Damien, the brunette he cameWith chuckled softly, her gaze filled with amusement. Sh
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Damien smirked, leaning casually against the counter like this was just another show for his amusement. "He's lying," Damien said as the policeman was about to give Silas the phone to call, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Whatever sob story he’s cooking up, it’s pathetic. Probably stole that card off someone who actually matters." Silas glared but stayed silent. It was obvious his words didn’t seem to matter here. The double doors to the lobby swung open. A man in a sharp suit strode in, exuding authority. His presence alone silenced the murmurs in the room. “What’s going on here?” His baritone voice was calm but carried weight. The kind of voice that didn’t need to yell to command attention. The receptionist perked up, straightening her posture. “Mr. Whitman! Thank goodness you’re here.” “Explain,” Whitman said, his eyes scanning the scene. The receptionist gestured at Silas, her tone laced with disdain. “This man tried to book a room using a stolen card. We called
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The next morning, Silas stood at the grand gates of the sprawling estate. The towering iron structure loomed over him, intricate patterns carved into its surface. Behind it lay the heart of the clan he had never known. “This is it,” Silas muttered, gripping the strap of his bag. The butler, a composed man with a graying beard, approached him. “Young Master, they’re waiting.” Silas swallowed hard. The term still felt foreign, like a coat that didn’t quite fit. But he nodded, stepping through the gates and into a world that felt like it belonged to someone else. The estate was massive—manicured lawns, fountains that sparkled under the sun, and a mansion that seemed to stretch endlessly. Inside, the halls were just as grand, with chandeliers casting soft light on marble floors. They entered a room filled with people. Conversations halted as heads turned. Silas felt their eyes on him—some curious, others cold. A few older women whispered behind their hands, their disapproval
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The phone buzzed in Silas’s pocket as he was stepping out of the company’s headquarters. He frowned, pulling it out and glancing at the screen. Unknown number. His thumb hovered over the decline button, but something about the timing made him pause. With a sigh, he answered. “Hello?” “Mr. Silas?” a hurried voice asked on the other end. “This is Mercy Hospital. Your contact information is listed as the emergency number for Mrs. Lilian Lawson. She’s been in a car accident. We need your immediate presence.” Silas froze mid-step. Lilian? His ex-wife? The name felt like a punch to the gut, bringing with it a rush of old memories he’d buried deep. “Is she…” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Is she okay?” “She’s stable but critical,” the nurse explained. “She needs surgery, and we require your consent to proceed.” Silas gripped the phone tightly, his heart hammering in his chest. “I’ll be there,” he said firmly, already moving toward the garage. “Than
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Victoria’s eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Who—who is this?” she stammered, her tone laced with disbelief, her eyes failing to comprehend what was before her.Samuel narrowed his eyes. “Since when do you have drivers?” Silas didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to Victoria. “I’ll leave now. Take care of her. Her health is of paramount concern.” “Wait!” Victoria barked. “You don’t just get to walk away! We’re not done here!” He walked out, paying no attention to the words being barked at him, the chauffeur falling into step beside him. The Lawson family remained frozen in place, their stunned silence a bittersweet victory. Outside, a sleek black car idled at the curb. The chauffeur stepped out behind him immediately, bowing slightly as he opened the door. “Straight to the company, sir?” “Yes.” Silas slid into the car, settling into the plush leather seat. As the car pulled away, he let out a shaky breath, his mind racing, struggling to p
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Silas stepped out of the sleek black car and ascended the grand staircase of the estate—a mansion that stood as a silent sentinel of his newfound status. Earlier that day, during an introduction to the clan, the butler had mentioned the penthouse as his sanctuary should he please. Now, as the twilight deepened, Silas found himself on the threshold of a realm reserved for the elite—a realm that would define the next chapter of his life.The penthouse door swung open with a whisper of hydraulics, revealing an expanse so magnificent that it almost took Silas’s breath away. Every inch of the space screamed opulence: marble floors inlaid with intricate mosaic patterns, walls adorned with rare art from around the globe, and vast windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, offering an uninterrupted view of the glittering city below. The state-of-the-art technology was seamlessly integrated into the decor—hidden speakers that filled the air with a subtle, ambient melody, smart glass tha
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The first rays of the morning sun filtered through a narrow opening in the window, gently caressing Silas’s face and coaxing him from sleep. He stirred slowly, a soft smile playing on his lips as he recalled the previous night—a night of deep introspection and unexpected solace in the lavish solitude of his penthouse. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he had slept with his burdens lifted, wrapped in the gentle embrace of a newfound freedom.As he sat up in his king-sized bed, the luxurious linens whispering against his skin, the gentle thud of footsteps in the corridor broke the silence. A crisp, measured knock echoed through the room. “Good morning, young master,” a familiar, refined voice greeted from behind the door.Silas paused, collecting his thoughts and the remnants of his dreams, and then rose to his feet. He walked to the door and swung it open, his eyes meeting the steady, respectful gaze of the butler. Behind him stood a group of five individuals, each
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Chapter 036
Moonlight slanted through broken windows of the abandoned warehouse, casting fractured beams across the cracked concrete floor. The two black jeeps skidded to a halt on the gravel outside. A ragged chain-link fence, its barbed wire twisted and rusted, marked the property’s perimeter. Inside, moonlight revealed peeling paint, graffiti-scrawled walls, and the skeletal shells of long-abandoned machinery.Two masked men yanked Silas Lancaster from the rear seat of one jeep. He slumped between them, still groggy from the blow to his neck. They dragged him across the littered floor, the soles of his dress shoes scraping against shattered glass. The warehouse doors groaned as they pushed him into the main chamber.A third man grabbed Silas’s arms and forced him into a scarred metal chair bolted to the ground. His legs dangled, wrists pulled tight behind the chair’s narrow backrest. The cold metal bit into his skin through his suit. “Wake him,” the first kidnapper growled. They poured
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Silas settled deeper into the backseat of the sleek black sedan, the night air cool against his skin as the city’s neon lights flickered past. His chauffeur, Isaac, guided them along the quiet boulevard with practiced ease. Silas closed his eyes for a moment, letting the hum of the engine soothe him after a long day at the office.Then, around a sharp bend, two rugged jeeps screeched to a halt across the road. Isaac slammed on the brakes, tires chirping in protest, and the car nearly lurched forward before coming to an abrupt stop inches from the jeep’s grille.Before Silas could react, seven figures in dark clothing and featureless masks poured out of the jeeps, brandishing wooden planks and metal rods. The leader—a tall man with a scar running down one cheek visible beneath his mask—stepped forward. He raised a plank overhead and pointed directly at Silas.“You fraud! Imposter!” the leader hissed. “We’ve got a package for you!”In an instant, the masked men charged. Isaac threw
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Moonlight pooled across Mat’s sprawling penthouse study, illuminating sleek bookshelves and the glint of city lights through floor-to-ceiling windows. Yet the room’s luxury offered him no comfort. He paced in erratic figure‐eights across the marble floor, irritation knotting his shoulders.“Why did she have to be the one to come and sign the documents?” he snarled to the empty room, voice rough with disbelief. “Of all people…” His shoes clicked against the stone as he strode, turned, and strode again. Earlier that day, he’d slipped into Silas Lancaster’s office to assist with pending contracts—his usual role as right hand to the heir. He’d expected formalities, handshakes, the routine press of paper. Instead, he’d found her standing across the desk: Elena Rogers, head of the Rogers NGO. Her steely poise, the grace of her greeting—yet she had refused to acknowledge him beyond a curt nod. Mat ran a hand through his hair. “Elena…” he whispered. The memory struck him like a physica
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Elena Rogers sat at her polished oak desk in the Rogers NGO headquarters, sunlight filtering through tall windows and dancing across the rows of binders stationed neatly on chrome shelves. She’d spent the morning reviewing grant applications, fine-tuning budget projections, and fielding emails from field officers in three different time zones. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she drafted an upbeat progress report—until her wrist begged for pause. With a decisive click, she minimized her screen and leaned back in her ergonomic chair, eyes closed for a moment’s respite. The hum of the server cluster in the corner, the soft tread of assistants on the carpeted floor, even the distant murmur of a late-morning staff meeting—all of it faded into the background as she let her shoulders relax. At that instant, her phone buzzed insistently on the desk. The caller ID glowed with a name that always made her heart skip a beat: “Sandra.”A smile bloomed across her face before she eve
Chapter 032
Morning sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Lawson Industries’ headquarters, illuminating the sleek steel desks and humming servers lining the open-plan office. The steady click of keyboards and low murmur of meetings formed the usual soundtrack of corporate life. Behind a polished mahogany desk in her corner office, Lilian Lawson stared at her monitor, fingers hovering over the keyboard. She’d thrown herself into a half-finished marketing proposal, determined to drown out the echoes of Silas Lancaster’s rise to prominence. Despite Damien’s reassurances—that Silas’s ascension was a contrived spectacle—her mind kept circling back to the possibility that it was all too real. Every headline, every blinking news ticker seemed to taunt her with Silas’s name. She exhaled and refocused on the spreadsheet before her when the door burst open. Lilian jerked upright as her younger brother, Derek, stormed in, laptop in hand, eyes wide with alarm. “What the hell?!”
Chapter 031
Silas Lancaster guided his sleek black sedan through the manicured gates of the Lancaster family estate. The late-morning sun glinted off the limestone façade of the mansion, throwing long shadows across the courtyard. He took a steadying breath, smoothing the lapels of his suit jacket. Today, he would visit his grandfather—the patriarch—in his private chambers. He stepped into the marble foyer. Crystal chandeliers refracted light into dancing patterns on polished floors. Yet the grandeur felt secondary when he noticed a cluster of elders gathered near a sweeping stairway, leaning in low over hushed conversation. As Silas approached, they fell silent, eyes flicking to him like hawks tracking prey. In their glances, he sensed disdain—spite hiding behind stiff collars and jeweled brooches. Silas’s chest tightened, but he refused to be distracted. “No matter,” he told himself, “I’m here for Grandfather. Can’t let myself be distracted by bitter elders.”He passed through the hall
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She laughed softly, reached for the handle, and paused to glance back at him once more before walking out. As she turned the door handle, she collided with Mat at the door.Elena Rogers stepping out, and Mat stepping in. They collided like two startled fencers. Elena’s cream blouse fluttered; Mat’s crisp shirt tilted askew. For a heartbeat, Mat’s brows knotted in irritation—until he realized who it was. His eyes widened, jaw slackening. “Elena?” he stammered, voice a mix of relief and surprise. Elena’s lips almost curved in a polite, almost a painful smile but she kept a straight face. She straightened, smoothing her slacks. She inclined her head ever so slightly—an acknowledgment, no more. Mat opened his mouth again, perhaps to speak, but Elena simply turned on her heel. Her gaze flicked toward Silas—warmth blossoming across her features. “Silas,” she said, her voice soft and bright. “Thank you for this morning. I’ll be in touch.” She gave him that same serene smile she
Chapter 029
The Lancaster Headquarters was already alive with movement and purpose. From the legal department to the financial wing, each corridor hummed with quiet energy. Keyboards clicked in rhythmic unison, phones buzzed intermittently, and clipped conversations filled the air as staff bustled with their morning tasks. Inside the sleek, spacious corner office on the top floor, Silas Lancaster was buried neck-deep in a maze of paperwork. His blazer was draped over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up, tie slightly loosened. The early sun filtered through the massive glass windows behind him, casting a golden hue over the desk piled high with documents awaiting his attention. He reached for another file, eyes scanning numbers and legalese, when the soft creak of the door opening reached his ears. Without lifting his gaze, he sighed. “I really do not want to be disturbed this morning, Nancy,” he said flatly, assuming it was his PA again. “Good morning to you too.” The voice stop
Chapter 028
Moonlight poured through the floor‐to‐ceiling windows, illuminating the plush king‐size bed where Lilian and Damien lay locked in an embrace. Their bodies glistened with sweat as they moved together with a shared urgency, each touch sending sparks through them. Damien’s strong hands roamed Lilian’s curves, while she arched into him, breath hot against his neck.“God, Lilian,” he murmured between kisses, voice husky. “You feel incredible.”Her soft moan was answer enough. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he guided her with a confident rhythm. Their whispers and sighs filled the room: promises, confessions, gasps of pleasure. Damien’s breath grew ragged as he found that perfect cadence, and Lilian clung to him, nails light against his back.Then, with a rush of heat and release, they both reached that single, shattering moment. Damien’s arms tightened around Lilian as she cried out softly, and for a beat, time froze. They panted, foreheads pressed togeth
