FAZER LOGINAmber POVWe didn’t move immediately.Even with everything we knew.Even with where he might be.We waited.Jason was the one who made that call.I watched him as he stepped slightly away, phone already in hand, his posture shifting back into that controlled, dangerous calm I had come to recognize.Not Jason.Cronos.“Scott,” he said when the line connected.A pause.Then his tone lowered, precise and direct.“I need backup.”I leaned against the table, arms crossed, watching him as he listened.“No,” he added after a second. “Not a full team. Just coverage.”Another pause.His jaw tightened slightly.“How long?”Silence stretched.Then—“Two days?”His voice didn’t rise, but I could hear the restraint in it.I pushed myself off the table, walking closer.Jason ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.“…Fine,” he said finally. “Two days.”He ended the call without another word.For a moment, he just stood there.Still.Thinking.Calculating.“Scott Highins?” I asked softly.He no
Emilian stood in the center of a dark room, perfectly still, his hands relaxed at his sides. Only the tension in his jaw betrayed the storm building beneath the surface.His family had interfered.Again.The Becker family had always followed the same tradition. The youngest son of the head of the family inherited the darker side of their empire—the part built in shadows, where power was maintained through control, information, and silence.It was not something given freely. It had to be earned.To inherit, one had to separate from the family name, build an identity, and prove superiority.That was why he became Emilian Sanders.Not to hide.To qualify.To take what was his.Part of that process required a match. A bride. Someone chosen not for affection, but for comparison. Someone to surpass publicly, to demonstrate absolute dominance.His father had chosen Amber Asher.At first, she had been nothing more than a benchmark, a variable in a system he intended to master.But over time,
Jason stepped closer, his hand settling firmly on my waist. Possessive. Grounding. Protective. “He studied you.” I nodded. “For years.” His voice dropped. Cold. “Then it’s time we return the favor.” I turned to him fully. A small, sharp smile forming. “Good,” I said. “Because I’m done being observed.” Jason turned to me again. There was something different in his expression this time. Less control. More… concern. “Stay behind,” he said quietly. I didn’t respond immediately. His hand tightened slightly on my waist. “For my peace of mind,” he added. “This could be a trap.” I met his gaze. Steady. Unmoving. “I know,” I said. A pause. “But I’m not staying behind.” His jaw clenched. “Amber—” “No,” I cut in, my tone calm but firm. “I’m not letting fear dictate my life.” Silence stretched between us. I softened slightly, but didn’t step back. “We go together,” I added. “Or not at all.” Jason studied me for a long second. T
Jason didn’t let go of me, not even after we had a plan. His arm stayed firmly around my waist, grounding me, as if letting go was not an option anymore.Then his tone shifted.“Think,” he said quietly.I looked up at him, noticing the sharp focus in his eyes.“Was there ever a time you were alone with any of the Becker men?”I frowned, my mind going back years, searching through memories I had long forgotten. For a moment, there was nothing… and then something surfaced.“When I was a child,” I said slowly. “The four families used to get together so the kids could spend time together.”Jason nodded slightly. “I remember those. I used to try to get out of them.”I huffed softly. “That sounds about right.”But then I continued, my brows furrowing as the memory became clearer.“I remember you being there… but there was also a boy. Older than me. I can’t remember his face clearly, but he was always there… following you.”Jason frowned. “I don’t remember him.”That didn’t sit right with me
Amber POVI didn’t hesitate. Not when he warned me, not when he asked, not even when I understood exactly what this meant. There was no turning back—and there hadn’t been for a long time.We moved naturally, without needing to say much, as if this wasn’t new to us. As if we had done this before. And in a way… we had.Jason pulled a tablet toward us, his movements precise and controlled, while I was already pulling data before he even finished opening the files.“Becker estate layout,” I said.“Already mapped,” he replied without missing a beat.I glanced at him, a small smile forming on my lips. Of course it was.He zoomed into the structure, highlighting entry points, exits, and blind spots. At the same time, I overlaid financial logs, movement patterns, and irregular transactions.“They’ve been funding something off-books,” I murmured.Jason didn’t even look surprised. “Of course they have.”Our hands moved almost at the same time, reaching, adjusting, refining. His strategy was cle
Jason POV It hadn’t even been an hour. Not even an hour. I stood there— Amber still in my arms— And all I could think was— How much more? She couldn’t even breathe. Not for a second. Kidnapped. Rescued herself. Found a girl— Broken. Abused. Rescued two of them. Won the Heir trial. Made enemies. Walked into a courtroom— And dismantled everyone in her path. Won not one— But two cases. And now— This. A stalker. A free one. My jaw tightened. Hard enough it hurt. Because this— This wasn’t coincidence anymore. This was a pattern. And patterns? Patterns could be broken. I looked down at the tablet again. At the walls. At the pictures. At the one— Where my face had been crossed out. Something dark shifted inside me. “They didn’t like that I was.” My words echoed. Good. Let them not like it. Because now— They were going to learn exactly why. My arm tightened around Amber instinctively. Not enough to hurt her. But enough to anchor her, keep her at m
By the time Jason returned with the doctor, Madam Sun and I had already reached an understanding. Not friendship. Not trust. A truce. The terms were clear. The online rumors surrounding me would be handled by the Sun family’s media division immediately. The slander from the White Group would n
My feet moved before my mind could catch up. In two strides, I reached them. My hand shot out, gripping the woman’s forearm mid-motion. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” She stiffened. Slowly, she turned her head and gave me a once-over—from my heels to my face—clearly unimpressed.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t shake. I didn’t look back, or mourned the life and the years i will never get back, lost forever. I just went home, time to pack and say goodbye to my old life. The penthouse doors opened with biometric recognition the moment I stepped inside. Floor-to-ceiling glass. Marb
We moved quickly through the hallway. Adrian walked behind me, gun raised, covering the corridor while I forced Henry Watson forward. The mansion was quieter than expected. Too quiet. Which meant either the guards were regrouping… or Jason was already on his way. I glanced over my shoulder.







