LOGIN"I thought I was his wife. To him, I was just a placeholder for the woman he actually loved." For three years, Evelyn lived as a ghost. To the world, she was the penniless orphan who hit the jackpot by marrying the cold, ruthless billionaire Caleb Knight. She played the part of the perfect, drab wallflower, cooking his favorite meals, enduring his family’s sneers, and secretly using her hidden Sterling Empire connections to save his company from the brink of bankruptcy. But on their third anniversary, the fairy tale shattered. Instead of a gift, Caleb handed her divorce papers. "Seraphina is back," he said, his voice as cold as ice Humiliated and discarded, Evelyn signs the papers and vanishes without a trace, leaving behind a positive pregnancy test in the trash, a secret Caleb wasn't worth knowing. Two years later, Caleb Knight’s "luck" has run out. His empire is bleeding, and his only hope is a merger with the mysterious, untouchable Sterling Global Group. Gone is the shy, plain girl in the $10 dress. Standing there in couture diamonds, flanked by three of the world's most powerful men, is his ex-wife. She is radiant, she is powerful, and she returns with a little boy who looks just like him and a girl who shares her aura. "Evelyn?" Caleb gasps, falling to his knees. "I... I’ve been looking for you. Please, come home." She steps over his hand as if he were a piece of trash. "I’m sorry, Mr. Knight,"she purrs, her voice dripping with lethal indifference. "The wallflower you threw away is dead. This is the Empress speaking and she finds you quite... boring." He broke her heart. Now, she’s going to break his empire!
View MoreChapter 70Caleb's POV The Andalusian night pressed against the villa like a lover too impatient to wait. Heat lingered in every stone, every shadowed corner, turning the air inside the walk-in pantry into something thick, almost drinkable. I was reaching for the jar of Marcona almonds when the voice slithered through the darkness behind me.“You move like sex, Antonella. Slow. Deliberate. Every roll of those hips is begging someone to grab them and fuck the rhythm right out of you.”My fingers froze on the glass. I straightened slowly, forcing the corset to bite deeper into my ribs, forcing the matriarch’s spine to stay rigid even as my pulse hammered traitorously against my throat.Lucien Sterling filled the doorway like sin given tailoring. No jacket tonight; the white dress shirt clung to the hard planes of his chest, top three buttons undone, sleeves shoved to mid-forearm. The veins on those forearms stood out when he lifted the tumbler of bourbon to his lips, ice clinking lik
Chapter 69Caleb’s POV The first week as Antonella had been a masterclass in psychological endurance. Every morning, I woke at 4:00 AM in the cramped servants' quarters to begin the grueling ritual of self-erasure. I glued the lashes, mapped the contours of a stranger’s face onto my own, and cinched the corset until my ribs groaned, all to step into the role of the woman who governed the Villa de Cristal.But no amount of makeup could prepare me for the sight of Evelyn.She wasn't the wallflower I had left in New York, the woman who wore her heart on her sleeve and walked with a hesitant, hopeful grace. This Evelyn moved through the glass-walled corridors like a specter of ice. Her eyes, once warm enough to melt my coldest moods, were now twin chips of obsidian, polished and impenetrable. She wore her new surname, Blackwood, like a suit of armor, but I could see the way her fingers trembled when she thought no one was watching.The angst was a living thing between us, though she ha
Chapter 68Caleb's POV The service entrance of the *Villa de Cristal* was not a door; it was a checkpoint. Even as "Antonella," the sheer architectural arrogance of the place felt like a weight designed to crush the spirit. The walls were sheer slabs of reinforced glass and white titanium, reflecting the Mediterranean moon with a cold, clinical brilliance.I stepped out of the taxi, my sensible loafers clicking against the pristine gravel. Each step felt like walking a tightrope over a pit of vipers. My pulse was a frantic drumming in my ears, but I forced my breathing into a slow, rhythmic cadence, the breath of a woman who had seen empires rise and fall and found them all wanting."State your business," a guard barked, his hand hovering near the biometric pad. He looked at me, a stern woman in charcoal grey and I saw the flicker of confusion in his eyes. I wasn't the usual help. I didn't look like someone who would beg for a wage; I looked like someone who would fire a man for h
Chapter 67 Caleb’s POV The morning light in Marbella was far too bright for a man who had just survived a trash compactor and a death threat. It danced off the white-washed walls with a cheerful indifference to my misery. I stood on a street corner, my body aching, dressed in a set of nondescript tourist clothes Ann had tossed at me before she vanished into the shadows of the "M" district.In my pocket, I had exactly four hundred Euros, my final lifeline and a heart that felt like it had been put through a meat grinder.I looked up toward the hills. Somewhere up there, behind walls of reinforced glass and laser-grid security, Evelyn was waking up in Alaric Blackwood’s bed. My children were eating breakfast in a house where another man played the role of their protector.The realization hit me harder than the cold marble of Seraphina’s floor. As "Mark Reynolds," I was a wanted man. As "Jean-Pierre," I was a joke the Sterlings had already laughed at. As "Caleb Knight," I was a gho






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