At dawn, with the sky still painted in shades of pale blue and gray, Serena arrived at Alexei’s company. It was only 7 a.m., but she moved with the sharp precision of someone who had been awake for hours—her resolve unwavering.In the quiet of a sleek conference room, she signed an agreement with Alexei—her last ace in the hand she was about to play.Once it was done, she opened her laptop, logged into the secure trading platform, and sent a direct message to the Richter Group.“I have a 35% stake. I'm willing to sell.”The response came quickly. On the other end, the acquisition team at Richter Group—already knee-deep in the covert buyout of Pinturas Grande—froze.A 35% stake?Until now, they'd only managed to purchase 16%. With this additional chunk, their ownership would leap past the 51% threshold—enough to take full control of the Morales family company. It was the kind of offer that could change the tide of a battle—and they could hardly believe their luck.What they didn’t know
After leaving the Morales company building, Serena drove straight to the Morales family villa. The sky had already turned the color of fading embers, and a chill clung to the air as dusk settled over the city. Her steps felt heavy as she approached the house, the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders.She couldn’t—wouldn’t—apologize to Victoria. That was out of the question.But the news that the board had betrayed her and the looming threat of an acquisition left her boxed into a corner. Fighting alone wasn’t just foolish—it was dangerous. Yet surrendering the company her father had built with his bare hands was something she couldn’t accept.She stood quietly outside Alfonso’s room for a moment, her knuckles brushing the door. Then she lifted her hand and knocked gently.A bout of coughing answered from inside.The sound cut through her like a blade.Guilt coiled in her chest. She had promised to make things better—to carry the Morales family legacy forward. Now, her defi
Dear Gentle Readers, Thank you for your support & understanding. This author will publish 2 chapters every day (1 paying & 1 freebie) this month for quick readers — as the chapter will all turned to paying by the end of the month Jun 30 or else this author will have to face an angry editor. Grazie mille. yours, ECAt the rooftop bar of 230 Fifth, the city lights sprawled like a glittering blanket below, but inside, the energy buzzed from something else entirely—gossip.Hugo slammed his palm on the wooden table, nearly tipping over a few glasses. "You guys should’ve seen it! She pointed right at Victoria’s nose and called her a mistress. Madam Vanderbilt was so furious she fainted on the spot. First lawsuit of her life, and she’s almost seventy!" he said with unrestrained glee.The circle around him burst into laughter. Most of them hadn’t attended the Laurent family's gathering and were now hanging on Hugo’s every word, sipping their cocktails with widened eyes.Hugo swirled the a
The pressure around Serena’s throat stole the air from her lungs.Alexander’s grip was ironclad—unyielding, merciless. Panic surged through her as her vision blurred and black spots danced across her sight. The sweat on her brow beaded and rolled down her temples, cold against her burning skin. Her hands flew up, clawing at his wrist.He didn’t even flinch.There was no trace of hesitation in his eyes—only ice. The way he looked at her now, it was as if she wasn’t even human.“Is this a game to you?” he bit out, his voice low and furious, his forearm tense and corded with restrained rage.Serena wanted to scream, but her throat burned. Just days ago, this same hand had cradled her waist, held her face with tenderness. The same voice that now tore through her like a blade had whispered sweetness against her neck. How had it all twisted into this?Her nails scratched at his skin, and she gasped out what breath she had left.“Serena,” he
The room was already buzzing when Mr. Remmington carefully set the two paintings aside and began rolling up the torn one. His normally serene expression was furrowed with obvious displeasure.“Who tore this?” he asked, his tone sharp, the reverence he held for his own work bleeding through each word. “I spent more than a month painting this. What a waste.”His eyes scanned the room and landed on Serena, who met his gaze with calm defiance. Wordlessly, she raised a finger and pointed—straight at Madam Vanderbilt.The color drained from Vivienne Vanderbilt’s face.Mr. Remmington’s brows knitted further. “Madam Vanderbilt, are you saying you destroyed my painting?”“W-Wait a minute!” she stammered. “You mean… that painting is real?”His stare was scathing. “Of course it’s real. I painted it with my own hands. How could I not recognize my own work?”Gasps rippled through the audience.“I was offered three hundred million at the last auction for that piece, and I refused to sell it,” he add
Meanwhile, across the city from the gilded halls of the Laurent estate, Ava stepped out of her Upper West Side townhouse, her steps light but her expression steeled with purpose.Waiting by the curb, leaning casually against his sleek black sports car, was Alexei Volkov. He flicked the end of his cigarette into a nearby trash can the second he spotted her.“Ava,” he called, straightening. “You’re really going to show up looking like that?”His voice held an edge of disbelief. “Tonight’s going to be crawling with paparazzi and society’s vultures. You’ll be photographed, and once those images start circulating, it won’t take long. Alexander’s no idiot—he’ll figure it out. You think he’ll let you walk away if he finds out you’ve been lying to him this whole time?”Ava paused, her brow knitting in concern. The last thing she wanted was for her identity as Alexander’s wife—Serena—to come out tonight. Not here. Not now. Not with so many eyes watching.“I’ll get a hat,” she murmured, already