Masuk"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!
Lihat lebih banyakChapter 210Yamelyan's POV "She isn't answering her comms, Yamelyan," Maeve whispered, her fingers tightening against the sleeve of my charcoal suit. She adjusted the delicate lace of her white gown, her eyes darting toward the grand arched entrance of the ballroom. "Ayana promised she would be here before the toast. It’s not like her to neglect a corporate deck, especially when the entire O’Hara interest is on display.""Your sister is managing the subterranean perimeter, dynamic as always," I replied smoothly, offering her a flawless, practiced smile. I covered her hand with mine, feeling the steady, rhythmic beat of her pulse. "The Obsidian’s primary grid suffered a minor localized cycling issue twenty minutes ago. You know how clinical she gets when her security metrics fluctuate. She will be here.""I suppose so," Maeve sighed, though her lower lip remained cast in a slight, disappointed pout. "But it's my engagement gala. She could have left the administrative logs to Dmitry fo
Chapter 209Evelyn's POV The penthouse air didn't smell like chloroform or aggregate dust. It smelled of expensive white tea, polished Italian marble, and the suffocating stillness of a graveyard. I didn't walk through the double oak doors; I glided like a wraith, my posture rigid, my spine no longer fractured but fused into steel. The thin fabric of my tailored blazer was torn at the lapel, stained with the gray grime of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Moscow, but I didn't cast it off. It was a uniform now. A reminder of the moment Ayana O'Hara became a ghost, and Evelyn Prokofiev took back the reins of her own skin. I didn't head to the master suite to clear my administrative deck. I didn't check the financial logs of The Obsidian. I walked straight down the eastern corridor, my bare feet making no sound against the heated marble floors, until I stood before the guest suite. The door gave way under my palm with a faint, oiled click.Inside, the room was dimmed, illu
Chapter 208Ayana's POV The concrete floor didn't have the decency to be smooth. It was raw, aggregate-heavy, and biting into my knees like a mouthful of jagged teeth through the thin fabric of my tailored blazer. "Up. Move your legs, Chairperson," a voice barked, heavily distorted by the rubberized seal of a tactical respirator. The sound was mechanical, hollow, stripping away any shred of human empathy. I couldn't answer. My lungs felt like they had been scrubbed with wire brushes. The sweet, heavy stench of chloroform was still thick on my tongue, turning my saliva to liquid lead.Every time I tried to draw a clean breath, my vision fractured into thousands of spinning, iridescent gray spots. I was being dragged, my designer heels scraping a useless, pathetic track through the dust. Thud.They dropped me. The impact traveled straight up my spine, a jarring shock that rattled my jaw. I was on a chair, cold, industrial iron, completely devoid of padding. "Secure her arms," t
Chapter 207"Madam, the perimeter logistics have been completely overwritten by the Radov security detail," Dmitry’s voice hummed through my encrypted Bluetooth earpiece, tight and calculated. "They have turned The Obsidian inside out for this engagement gala. Every public entrance is crawling with their tier-one enforcers. They've essentially colonized your territory for the night.""Let them play their high-society games, Dmitry," I replied, my voice clipping smoothly as I adjusted the collar of my tailored black blazer. I stood in the subterranean executive garage of my own club, staring at the concrete pillar where my private biometric elevator sat waiting. "Did you secure the physical financial logs from the upper vault as I requested?""I’m pulling the encrypted ledgers now, but you need to be careful," Dmitry warned, the click of a keyboard echoing over the line. "Yamelyan Radov’s men are highly paranoid tonight. Their digital grid is completely locked down, searching for somet
Chapter 88The interior of the Sterling limousine smelled of sunblock, expensive leather, and my own impending doom. As we wound down the coastal road toward the private cove, I sat rigidly between the two children, my hands folded over a canvas tote bag that contained the most shameful garment ev
Chapter 89If being water-logged in a 1920s wool bathing suit was the Ninth Circle of Hell, then the walk back to the cabana was the tenth. Every step felt like I was dragging two anchors made of soggy sheep. The navy-and-white stripes had sagged so much that the crotch of the suit was hovering s
Chapter 82The data-skimmer was a cold, jagged weight in the palm of my hand, a sliver of silicon and steel that held the power to decapitate Alaric Blackwood’s future. It was evidence of high treason, a digital noose for a man who had mistaken my invisibility for insignificance. But as I slipped
Chapter 84The Villa de Cristal was a house built on transparency that hid nothing but lies. But tonight, as a rare Mediterranean storm lashed against the reinforced glass, the transparency felt like a threat. The thunder rolled over the cliffs of Marbella, echoing the slow-motion collapse of Alar






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