ログインThe courtroom was all pale wood and hushed voices. Zane sat at the defendant's table, his suit wrinkled from sleepless nights, his face pale. Beside him, Ms. Sterling reviewed documents with quiet efficiency. She had been confident going in. She was less confident now.Across the aisle, the Sinclair legal team sat in dark suits, three of them, led by a silver-haired woman named Mrs. Fowler—the same lawyer who had handled the Sinclair family's affairs for twenty years. She had never lost a custody case.Jovi sat behind her parents, her eyes red, her hands clasped in her lap. Ronald stared straight ahead. Margaret clutched a handkerchief.The judge, a stern woman in her sixties, adjusted her glasses.
The Sinclair mansion stood on the outskirts of the city, a Georgian revival with columns and iron gates. It had stood for over a century. It had survived wars, depressions, scandals.It would not survive this night.Zane parked his car at the curb. His hands were still shaking from the press conference. His tie was loosened. His collar was damp with sweat.He had not planned to come here. His lawyer had advised against it."Let the dust settle,"she had said."Let them come to you."But Zane could not wait.
He did not move.He stood at the edge of the crowd, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass of champagne he had not touched. His face was calm.But his lips—just a fraction—curved.Not a smile. A smirk.Margaret saw it. Her face contorted. "You. You did this."Vance said nothing.Ronald stepped forward, his voice shaking with rage. "This is your doing. You planned this. At your children's birthday party—""They are not my c
Jovi caught Vance's eye. She smiled. He did not smile back. The nanny led the twins away. Their eager voices faded down the hallway. "Thank you," Jovi whispered. "For doing that. For them." Vance picked up a champagne glass from a passing tray. He did not drink. He just held it. The party continued. The conversation shifted—business, investments, the Harrington merger's third-phase projections. William held court near the bar, his voice carrying across the room. "The board is pleased with the quarterly results. Horizon has been... adequate." "Adequate?" One of the board members raised an eyebrow. "The sustainable energy fund has outperformed expectations by eighteen percent." William's jaw tightened. "For a side project, yes." Ronald, Jovi's father, stood apart, speaking quietly with a senator about tax incentives. His eyes kept drifting to Vance. He looked away each time. Margaret, Jovi's mother, circulated among the guests, accepting compliments on the floral arrangements,
"I need my own legacy first. A way out from my father's grasp." He stood, walked to the window. The city sprawled below. "Keep following her. And Zane. Closely. I want to know everything.""And the photos?""Hold them. They are my insurance, not my weapon. Not yet."He hung up.The orchid sat on the sill. He touched its petals. Still alive.Three years, he thought.Give me three years.He turned back to his laptop. Pro
She leaned in. Their lips almost met.Then stopped.His thumb pressed against his own mouth—against her lips, blocking her. His skin was cold. His eyes were hard.Jovi pulled back slowly. Her smile had disappeared."You think I would let you touch me like that?" His voice was low. Flat. "You do not actually believe that you can make every man surrender to your charm just by using your body and sweet words, do you?"Her jaw tightened. "I am not trying to charm you.""Oh." He tilted his head. "So you simply wanted to sleep with me and then go play house
Jovi stood at the entrance, poised and radiant in a pale gold gown. She was not alone.On her arm, wearing a tuxedo he hadn’t worn since our wedding, was Zane.Vance went still beside Nerissa. His voice was low, barely a breath against her ear.“Does his presence here compromise our position?”Her
Zane was finally catching up.The anonymous emails had stopped after the third one—just enough information to point him in the right direction, then silence. He didn't know who had sent them, b
The printed email sat on my keyboard. I picked it up. The words were careful, but the meaning was clear. Chen was trying to cause doubt. He was trying to hurt the project, and to hurt me.The handwritten question mark at the bottom was the only note. It wasn't an order. It was a test.I didn't feel
The ride home was silent. Zane drove with both hands clenched on the wheel. He kept looking over at Nerissa, his eyes red and worried. She stared out her window. The city lights slid past, not really reaching her. The pain in her body was a steady, deep ache. But the feeling in her chest was worse.







