The long table stretched across Blackspire’s boardroom, polished like glass, reflecting the tense faces of directors, shareholders, and executives. Graphs and figures lit the screen at the far end, red numbers sloping downward.“Quarterly profits have taken a hit,” one director said sharply. “Declining by nearly 11% in Europe alone. If this trend continues, Blackspire risks losing its grip on the Geneva Link negotiations.”Whispers rippled across the room.Raymond Whitmore’s gaze was cold, steady. “This company has stood through worse storms. My concern is not the dip—it’s the response. We cannot afford weakness.”All eyes shifted to Ethan. He sat forward, his hands clasped loosely, his calm presence drawing silence.“Losses are not always a sign of failure,” Ethan said evenly. “Sometimes they’re a sign of transition. Europe’s infrastructure is shifting. Competitors like Monroe Holdings are forcing losses to look worse than they are by cutting margins aggressively. Instead of match
Madeline’s eyes narrowed as the door clicked shut behind Lauren. She swung her glare toward Caleb, fury trembling in her voice.“Is she for real? Tell me, Caleb—are you truly going back to her?”Caleb gave a humorless scoff, leaning lazily against the arm of the couch. “I didn’t expect you of all people to ask me that. Who else do you think I’d go back to? You?”Her throat tightened, tears pricking her eyes despite her pride. “Why not me? Why is it never me? Is there something wrong with me, Caleb?”His jaw clenched, his voice cutting like steel. “Do you want the truth? You made Lauren’s life a living hell in high school. You dragged my ex all the way from Los Angeles just to torment her. You manipulated and schemed until she lost her Atelier—her dream! No man in his right mind would choose someone like you.”The words broke something inside her. Madeline swallowed, her lips trembling before she managed a pitiful nod. “You’re right… Caleb.”She turned and walked away, her heels clic
Fisher’s voice quivered as he finally spoke, eyes darting to the fire as though it might swallow his words.“Lauren Whitmore had pictures pinned on the wall. Dozens of faces—staring back at me from a giant collage. Each marked with bold red ink, every name linked to her accident.”Jonathan’s gaze sharpened. “What did she write?”Fisher swallowed hard. “Jonathan Monroe—‘Rival of Blackspire. Revived through Preston Carter, Monroe Holdings, and NovaCorp. Motive: corporate rivalry?’” He hesitated before continuing. “Madeline Carter—‘Released from prison a day before the hit-and-run. All possessions seized by Preston Carter. Motive: revenge?’ Caleb Monroe—‘Called me the day of the paternity test. Could have been following me?’”The words tumbled faster now.“Pearl Whitmore—‘After our confrontation in the garden, the accident happened. Wants Amy Grant for Ethan. Motive: remove me.’ Raymond Whitmore—‘Also pushing Amy toward Ethan. Would gain from my absence.’ And…” Fisher’s voice fell almost
Her chest tightened at the sight before her.Ethan—hugging that woman.Martha Skylar.Her heart ached as she watched them. A thought rushed through her mind—what if she stormed in right now?But then, they would remind her she was the one filing for divorce.She had every right. Yet why did it hurt so much?As she staggered back, a strong hand caught her from behind. Startled, she turned—and froze.Preston Carter.She couldn’t believe he was there. He reached out, brushing her wet cheeks with his thumb.“The divorce isn’t even final,” he murmured, “and you can already see he’s moving on.”She forced a smile. “I don’t care about his love life, Preston. I was only worried about him losing Charlotte. She was like a mother to him.” She held out her hand. “Let’s go inside.”He nodded and clasped her hand, leading her forward.***Inside the car, Ethan pulled Martha’s arms away.“You can go in, Martha. For a second, I almost thought you were Charlotte.” He gave a small grin.Martha’s exp
Danielle chuckled bitterly, though her eyes betrayed exhaustion.“My car is with my brother. Probably wrecked already. He replaced it for me, and strangely, I feel better now that he did. Which is why…” She exhaled shakily. “I’m breaking up with you.”Doctor Harris blinked, stunned. “Breaking up with me?”“Of course. Why do you look so surprised?” Her lips twisted into a half-smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “At least now you’ll be free.”“Danielle, it’s not what you think—”“I understand,” she cut in quickly, her voice soft but firm. “I’m not blaming you for anything, Harris. You don’t owe me explanations. Just… have fun with your life.”She lifted her hand in a small wave, then walked back into the hospital, leaving him standing in the night air, torn between grief and anger.His chest tightened as he fumbled with his phone. He dialed Amy Grant again. This time she picked up.“Is the burial today?” he rasped.***Ethan entered the mansion, each step heavy, as though grief weighed d
Danielle froze when she saw Charlotte sprawled on the ground, blood spreading fast around her body. Panic seized her chest like a vice. There was no one in sight. No footsteps, no witnesses.Her hands trembled as she scrambled back to her car. The tires screeched against the pavement as she drove off, her mind spinning, heart pounding louder than the engine.By the time she reached her brother’s apartment, she could barely breathe. “Sean—” Her voice cracked as she stumbled inside, words tumbling out in gasps. She told him everything. The blood. Charlotte. How she ran from the scene.Sean listened without a flinch. Years of keeping his composure made him dangerous in moments like this. “Alright, Danielle,” he said firmly, gripping her shoulders. “You were never there. Do you hear me? Never.”That night, Sean went back to the scene. He moved like a ghost—wiping down anything Danielle might have touched, brushing away the faint tire marks where she had stopped, making sure no tra