2026-02-11 15:47:02So to her all the time they had spent together was a nightmare.
Every love he had for her vanished instantly.
The sound of a revving engine rolled down the street before Roman could speak again.
A yellow Ferrari drove in and stopped in front of Mira, drawing the attention of people nearby.
The door of the driver's seat swung open and Mario climbed out, dressed in designer clothes, shoes and accessories.
Mario was the son of the vice president of their company. Rich, spoiled and lousy.
Mario walked toward them with the pride of someone who thought that everyone else was beneath him.
He came forward and draped his hand over Mira’s waist.
“Brother, thanks for keeping my lady company these past few years! I’ll take it from here. From now on she’s with me.”
“Thanks too for relieving me of a futile load.” He smiled.
Both Mira and Mario clenched at his cold words. Speechless.
“Don’t worry, I’ll treat her like a queen.” The only word that Mario could think of.
Roman smirked. “Of course. She's a queen to low grade men like you. Not to me.”
“What? What is this asshole……saying?” She raised her hand, about to strike a blow but Mario, thoughtful, dragged her back.
“The bastard orphan is not worth your time!”
“Bastard orphan?” Roman gave a quick, sharp laugh. “It's alright!”
Mira clenched her lips, head slightly bowed. The faint smile playing on her lips betrayed how proud she was trying to look of Mario.
"Good luck with your Mr. Wealth.” Roman said, turned to go when Mira’s sharp voice stopped him.
“Don’t you dare insult him! He drives a Ferrari. What do you have? A garbage truck? He earns more in a week than you in a lifetime. You come home reeking of sweat every night, and I’m tired of living like that. I won’t waste my life with someone who’ll never be more than a street cleaner.”
Each word sounded harsh, but Roman gave a steady mocking grin. Only foolish for an unwise person.
When she finished, Mira held Mario’s arm and said sweetly, “Let’s go, honey.”
Mario nodded, still smiling. “Right, no point talking to people beneath us.”
They had barely turned toward the car when a deep roared at the corner. Heads turned as a massive black gold plated Rolls Royce drove in.
Roman recognized the sound instantly, his head flared up. The Rolls Royce didn’t stop. It drove into the pavement and crashed straight over the front of Mario’s beloved Ferrari.
The Ferrari folded under the impact, glass shattering across the pavement. The driver backed up and rolled forward again, flattening what was left into a crumpled sheet of yellow steel.
Gasps rose from the small crowd. Mira let out a gasp and clutched Mario’s arm.
“My car! My….. what is happening?” Mario stammered, too shocked to move.
The car’s engine was cut off. Silence followed. Then the driver’s door opened.
A woman stepped out tall, sexy, her long legs covered in dark stockings, her jacket opened. She wore sunglasses that reflected the damage she had done.
Roman rubbed his temple in frustration and recognition.
Camille.
He hadn’t expected her to show up here nor did he expect her to pull such a stunt the moment she arrived.
Telling her about the proposal of yesterday didn't mean he wanted her to show up so soon.
She approached, ignoring the stunned crowd. “Morning, bos.…”
The Roman shook his head to stop her.
“Not here,” Roman murmured.
Camille inclined her head, the faintest smile creeping her lips. Then, she looped her arm through his.
Mario stared at her, eyes wide. Mira’s perfect smile faltered.
Camille’s voice was loud enough for them to hear. “I heard you're now in an open marriage?” she said, tilting her head toward Mira. “So this must be the greedy bitch. But who’s the… creature beside her?”
Her eyes met Mario's, assessing him and amused by his look.
Sarcasm ran over her lips next. “Is this her new world's richest husband?”
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Chapter 133
The envelope showed up with no courier label, no sender details, only a silver seal Roman recognized at once. The mark of Greaves International, the private intelligence agency that dealt with problems too sensitive for official systems. Its director, Marcus Vane, still carried a debt to Roman that could never truly be settled. Six years earlier, Roman had saved his daughter during a kidnapping case that never reached the press. Messages from Vane were rare, and when they came, it was never good news.Roman opened the seal alone in his study. Inside was just one typed sheet, it was plain, stripped of anything unnecessary, written in cold, clinical language.SUBJECT: Cross, Damian. Inmate #4471-K.FACILITY: Blackwood Containment Centre, Sector 4.INCIDENT: Coordinated breach. 6 days prior. Two security officers deceased. Three inmates hospitalised. Subject Cross extracted during medical transfer. Transport ambushed 50 miles from facility. All escort personnel lost. Current location: U
Chapter 132
“It was Reuben,” he said quickly. “My senior aide. My chief of staff.” His words came out fast, almost desperate, like speaking faster could reduce the damage.“He did it without telling me. He leaked the Elara story to hurt your infrastructure deal. He saw your campaign gaining support from that deal and thought destroying it would protect my position. He believed he was helping me.”Roman’s face stayed calm and unable to read. “Why would he think that?”Halden shut his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them again, the emotion was clear on his face, it was a deep shame, he felt exposed and open.“Because he was being paid. Holloway.”The name hit the room like something heavy was dropping into a still water.“Holloway got to him months ago. He paid him. Reuben had been feeding him information, influencing campaign decisions, and pushing me into choices that helped Holloway’s interests. I didn’t know any of it. I only found out after the story came out. By then, it was already t
Chapter 131
The rally was scheduled for the afternoon.Roman showed up at the venue by eleven. The stadium parking area was already packed with cars and people. Banners flapped in the morning wind while vendors lined the edges of the crowd, selling water, caps, and buttons featuring Halden’s face. At the north end of the grounds, a stage had been set up, complete with huge screens and speakers the size of small refrigerators. About fifteen thousand people were expected, and judging by how the crowd kept growing, that number would easily be reached.Roman went in through a side gate marked “STAFF ONLY.” Carlos followed closely behind him, walking just two steps back. A slim leather bag hung from Carlos’s shoulder. Inside that bag was a printed transcript.Carlos did not ask Roman what he planned to do with it. He never questioned him or tried to understand the details. In the car earlier, he had simply handed the bag over without a word, as if he already accepted that Roman had a reason for every
Chapter 130
The boardroom at Crestfield Group smelled of old wood polish and stale coffee. Twelve people sat around the long mahogany table, and not one of them looked comfortable. Smith sat near the middle, hands resting on a thin leather folder. He wore a grey suit and had arrived early. He spent those extra minutes sitting silently, watching the others file in.They knew who he worked for. Everyone in the room knew.Harold Vance, the chief financial officer, barely glanced at him. Gerald Crane, head of operations, shuffled papers loudly. Two junior board members looked at Smith like a door they had been told not to open. Smith gave no reaction. He had been a butler for twenty-three years. He knew how to sit still while being watched.Edward Finch, the chairman, called the meeting to order at ten. The agenda was routine for forty minutes. Revenue reports. Supply chain updates. A dispute with a shipping partner. Smith listened and said nothing. He took no notes. He didn't need to.When Finch ask
Chapter 129
Angela Webb, his chief legal counsel, was known for her speed and precision. She arrived in seventeen minutes with the agreement already pulled up on her tablet.“Clause nine,” Roman said as she entered.Angela was already in the room.“Non-disclosure,” she said without hesitation, scanning the document. “It’s broad and strict. It covers any public statements, interviews, written accounts, broadcasts, and social media posts involving Roman Walcott, Walcott Corporation, Walter Group, and all connected people or organizations. Mira Donaldson signed it as part of her early release from the legal case.”She paused and looked into his eyes.“It’s solid,” she continued. “Completely enforceable.”“Send a formal notice to The Meridian Pulse tonight,” Roman said. “If you have to, wake their legal team. Make it clear that airing any part of that interview breaks a binding legal agreement. The first step will be an injunction. After that, a lawsuit that will make their quarterly profits irreleva
Chapter 128
Mira said nothing for a few seconds. On the outside, the traffic was noisy through the city streets while the neighbor’s air conditioner continued its uneven dripping against the ledge.“How much are you offering?” she finally asked.A short silence followed after the question, the kind that sounded almost like someone smiling on the other end of the line.“Fifty thousand dollars,” Dana Reeves said. “It’s a fixed price. We record the interview, we manage the editorial framing, and you’ll have the right to review the primary quotations. It would go to broadcast within forty-eight hours of filming.”Fifty thousand dollars.Mira kept her eyes fixed on the grey brick wall beyond the window. Fifty thousand dollars. It was enough to cover months in this cramped apartment, a fragile buffer, but still a buffer. It wasn’t close to what she had once been used to, not even a shadow of it, but it was something real. Something that could start to shift the weight pressing in on her. It meant a li
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