Se connecterThe moment Elara stepped out and the front door gently clicked shut, Cassia turned to Darvan with a thoughtful expression. "Do you think I was too harsh with my decision to destroy the Sinclair?" she asked, her voice calm but uncertain. Darvan didn’t hesitate. "No. It was perfect... They once dest
Like the days before, Darvan showed up at the mansion again. This time, he was holding a single lily. Cassia opened the door, arching an eyebrow. "You and these flowers..." she muttered, rolling her eyes, but still, she reached out and took it from him. "Don’t tell me you’re doing all this becaus
When they arrived at the mansion, it was exactly what everyone expected and more. Grand? No. Magnificent. The kind of place that made you stop at the gates just to take it all in. Cassia stood still for a moment, staring at the building a second too long. Of course, it was one of Master Elara Voss
Weeks passed slowly, and Cassia still hadn’t opened her eyes. Her condition remained unchanged, and despite the doctors’ efforts, there was no sign of improvement. What surprised Darvan most wasn’t just the silence, it was who kept showing up. His uncle, Martinez, had begun visiting more frequently
In Darvan’s ward, silence filled the room. Fredrick and Justin had gone to get food, leaving him alone. He stared at the ceiling, one hand on his chest, the other resting at his side. "I thought I lost her," he whispered, remembering the moment he was fortunate enough to see Cassia being wheeled i
Moments later, the forensic cleaners arrived and Liam left the scene heading straight to Cassia's firm, where he found Mira just about to leave, looking utterly exhausted. "You're still here?" he asked. "I had a lot to do. Mostly because Miss Sterling didn’t show up," she muttered, yawning. "I ne
Martinez slammed the door open as he stormed into the Sinclair estate. His steps were loud, firm, and full of anger. He didn’t bother to knock or announce himself. In the living room, Mrs. Sinclair sat quietly, but not with her usual fake politeness. She wasn’t sipping tea or forcing a smile. Inst
Cassia quickly pulled her arm free from Henry’s grasp and cleared her throat. "I'm not ignoring you," she said briskly. "I just have things I need to take care of." She turned away, intending to leave, but barely made it a few steps before she felt Henry grab her wrist again. "Henry," she called,
Darvan was still seated at the dining table, his eyes locked on the message displayed on his phone screen. He hadn’t said a word since reading it aloud. The room was silent, as if even his friends were trying to process the message he had just shared. Finally, after what felt like forever, Darvan r
Cassia stopped reading, frozen in place as she stared at the piece of paper in her hands. Darvan wasn’t Mrs. Sinclair’s son? She decided to read it again. And again. Maybe the words would change, or blur enough to make her doubt them. But no, the truth was stubborn. Her hands trembled as she care







