INICIAR SESIÓNThe music in the underground club was deafening—bass pounding against the ribcage, lights flashing like the pulse of a fever dream. Through the swirl of smoke and noise, Marken’s alter ego sat down beside Serena, his expression laced with mockery.“So,” he drawled, his voice almost drowned by the heavy beat, “after seeing it with your own eyes… do you still want to go back to Alexander?”The question cut through the chaos like a blade.Serena didn’t answer.Her eyes remained fixed in the direction Alexander had disappeared, the crowd closing in where he’d once stood. The space he left behind felt colder than the air around her. Her throat tightened, and when she blinked, tears slipped silently down her cheeks.He was gone.Truly gone.Her shoulders trembled. Of course Alexander resented her now—how could he not? In his eyes, she was tied to Cornelius’s death, the one who had thrown away the box that carried the venomous snake. And when Chiara had leaned over him to suck out the venom,
Louis stumbled to his feet, unsteady from too much alcohol and too little dignity. The dim light of the nightclub glinted off the half-empty glasses littering the bar counter. He looked ready to bolt when Alexander’s cold voice cut through the pounding bass.“You embezzled company funds,” Alexander said evenly. “You’ll probably spend the rest of your life in prison.”The words struck Louis like a hammer. His face went slack for a moment before twisting with rage. With a violent sweep of his arm, he sent bottles and glasses crashing to the floor. The shattering sound turned heads, but no one dared intervene.Out of the corner of his eye, Louis caught sight of a woman seated a few tables away. She was alone, wearing a wide-brimmed hat that cast a shadow over her face. Her hands rested protectively on her rounded belly—clearly several months pregnant. The incongruity of her presence in a nightclub was almost absurd, but Louis was too furious to care.He jabbed a trembling finger at Alexa
The soft hum of fluorescent lights filled the silence of the Vanderbilt Group’s executive floor. Papers were stacked neatly across Alexander’s mahogany desk, their sharp corners reflecting the sterile glow of the lamp. The clock on the wall ticked past midnight.When Chiara quietly pushed open the office door, the faint scent of cold rain drifted in from the hallway. Her complexion was pale but carefully composed. She held a small insulated box in her hands and smiled faintly.“Alexander, I brought you dinner,” she said softly, her voice carrying the hesitant warmth of someone tiptoeing into dangerous territory.Alexander barely looked up. His expression was unreadable, his brows drawn together as he stared at the open files before him—financial reports, contracts, anything to drown out the thoughts clawing at the back of his mind.Chiara lingered by the door, uncertain. Since the day Alexander had said he might consider being with her, she had clung to those words as if they were a l
Louis was still in hiding, every nerve on edge as he scoured for someone—anyone—who could help him disappear. The walls felt like they were closing in on him, the air heavy with paranoia. Each sound outside the shuttered window made him flinch.When word reached him that Marken’s alter ego might be able to “handle” the situation, Louis didn’t hesitate. He agreed to meet immediately, desperation clouding all caution. But he didn’t realize Alexander’s men were already shadowing him. They had been tracking his every move since the night he fled, and now they were closing in—quietly, methodically.Alexander himself, however, wasn’t there yet. He’d been intercepted by Renzo.---Since Chiara’s hospitalization, Alexander hadn’t visited her even once.And yet—everyone knew her condition was indirectly his fault.“Mr. Vanderbilt,” Renzo began, his tone clipped yet weighted with meaning. “We’re all businessmen here, so I’ll be direct. Chiara woke up today. The first thing she asked about was y
Marilyn’s tears had long dried, leaving behind only the dull sting of exhaustion. The words Vincent had thrown at her still echoed faintly, their sharp edges blunted now by numbness. Cruel words always hurt—but only for a moment. What lingered afterward was the silence, the hollow ache of disappointment.Her breakdown hadn’t come from his insults alone. It was from the bitter realization that she had trusted him too deeply—handing him every fragile piece of her soul. She had once told him everything: her childhood fears, her stepfather’s abuse, the shame and terror that had haunted her for years. She had cried in his arms, trembling, believing that he would be her protector, her anchor in the storm.At that time, Vincent had seemed like a hero.But now, all her vulnerability—every tear, every confession—had become ammunition for him. The very secrets she thought would bring them closer were now his weapon to wound her.She realized, with a dull ache, that some truths were never meant
Hugo and Colton exchanged a brief nod before walking out together, the echo of their boots fading into the quiet hallway. Outside, the evening air hung heavy with the faint scent of rain and exhaust. A line of cars glimmered under the streetlights, their reflections rippling across wet pavement.Colton stopped near the curb, fishing a cigarette from his pocket. The metallic flick of his lighter broke the silence as he cupped the flame against the wind. Smoke curled upward, pale and restless, disappearing into the damp night.Hugo shoved his hands into his pockets and studied Colton’s expression. “What does this have to do with Marken?” he asked. “And why did he say all that nonsense just now?”Colton exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his face half-shadowed beneath the amber glow of the streetlight. “Wait until he sobers up,” he said evenly. “Then you can ask him yourself.”Hugo raised a brow, lips quirking in faint disbelief. “Since when did you become so good at keeping secrets?”Colto







