Mag-log inCINDY’S POVHe snatched the papers, his eyes scanning frantically across each line.“Divorce?! You can’t divorce me, Cindy. You can’t…”“You’ve been begging for this for years,” I said calmly. “I’m just giving you what you wanted.”His blurry gaze snagged on the asset division clause, and the color drained from his face so fast I thought he might actually faint.“Seventy percent!!!! Are you fucking crazy, Cindy?! How could you want seventy percent of the company's shares and properties? This is my father’s legacy…”“Your father’s legacy was bleeding out until I poured millions in anonymously to keep the lights on,” I said, a wicked grin tugging at my lips. “You’re welcome, by the way. I’m feeling generous, so I left you thirty percent. The rest is mine.”His knees buckled. He hit the ground hard, the papers scattering around him like dead leaves.“Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Cindy, please. You’ll ruin me.”I looked down at him—at the man who had once made me beg for c
CINDY’S POVMy chest squeezed painfully as I pulled Alaric into the kind of hug we used to give each other when we were kids and the world still felt safe. His arms locked tight around me like they had never let go.I let the warmth of his arms linger for one more heartbeat, then pulled back just enough to look at him. My eyes were teary now.“Good to see you too, little bro.”He laughed under his breath, the same low, familiar sound that used to echo through the halls of our old house in D.C. His hands came up to cradle my face, thumbs sweeping gently across my cheekbones as if he were still afraid I might vanish.“Dad’s going to lose his mind when he sees you,” he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear the crack in it. “He missed you so much, Cin. He never stopped asking about you. Not once.”The words hit harder than any punch Henry had ever thrown and my chest tightened so sharply I almost couldn’t breathe. Eight years of silence, of choosing distance because I thoug
CINDY’S POVThe roar that followed shook the ground. Thunderous applause, laughter, whistles, and cheering erupted everywhere.And that was the exact moment Henry decided he couldn’t take it anymore.He shot to his feet so fast his chair screeched and toppled backward. The sound sliced through the noise like a knife. He fidgeted with his jacket, trembling as he threw his head back and unleashed a loud, strained, desperate laugh.The lawn fell silent, puzzled, as phones and cameras tilted toward him.A dark satisfaction coursed through me, and I gave him a wicked smirk.Finally, you took the bait.“Cindy Verilli?” he snorted, his voice dripping with mockery. “Give me a fucking break.”He spread his arms wide, his red eyes burning into mine. “Everyone, this woman is a fraud. I’ve been married to her for three years, and trust me, there’s nothing ‘Verilli’ about her. She’s nothing but a fucking scam!”Damian tensed beside me, ready to launch, but he held back, leaving the fight to me.
CINDY’S POVThe second my foot settled on that stage, the past eight years cracked open like an old vault, and everything I had buried came rushing out in one blinding wave.And for the first time in forever, I remembered exactly who the hell I was.I remembered it all.The weight of a thousand camera flashes when I was sixteen, clinging to my father’s arm at the Monaco Yacht Show, the way the photographers screamed, “Ms. Verilli! Over here!”The way the air used to taste: champagne and power.I remembered the hush that fell over rooms when Leonardo Verilli’s daughter walked in, the way grown men straightened their ties and women touched their diamonds just to feel less small.I had spent years convincing myself I didn’t miss it. I had told myself that living a normal life was better and that being invisible was safe.Tonight proved what a lie that was.Because the moment hundreds of eyes locked on me, something powerful and hungry woke up inside my chest. They weren’t just looking a
DAMIAN’S POVElis took the stage, tappin’ the mic with a nervous grin. The quartet faded, and the chatter hushed. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice clear and steady, that familiar geek shine still in his eyes. “Thank you all for being here tonight. I am deeply grateful and truly honored by your presence.” He bowed slightly, ever the gentleman, and applause erupted. He continued, “This gathering, however, is more than a birthday celebration. It is a launch.” Murmurs rippled. He paused, letting it settle. “D.T. Future Living represents the future of intelligent residences: homes that think, adapt, and evolve. This entire estate serves as the working prototype, and yes, it is also my rather extravagant birthday gift to myself.” I whooped like a frat boy from my seat and the applause roared again. Elis grinned, his cheeks turning pink.“Because I am, admittedly, a touch greedy, I have one final gift to unwrap this evening. My brother, the architect of everything you see
~DAMIAN’S POV~The sun had dipped low and Elis’s birthday bash was already in full swing.The backyard had been transformed into a dream: fairy lights twinkling like a million fireflies, the lawn rolled out perfectly underfoot, big enough for five hundred souls to mingle without bumping elbows.Tables draped in crisp white linen dotted the space, and a massive ice sculpture of a goddamn robot stood in one corner (Elis’s idea, no doubt), dripping slowly into a crystal punch bowl.I stood at the wrought-iron gates in my black Tom Ford tux, sleeves rolled once, collar open, playing head bouncer and flashing my best CEO grin at incoming guests.Mark Zach, CEO of RoboCore Dynamics, rolled up in his Tesla Cybertruck, lookin’ like he’d just stepped off a TED Talk stage in a tailored gray suit.Next up was Lena Voss, founder of Voss Integrated Tech. She stepped out of her Ferrari looking tall and sharp as ever in a red dress.Unlike Mark Zach, who just strolled past me without a hi, Lena lit







