LOGINInside the ultra-exclusive dining lounge of Ashford hotel. the ambiance was defined by soft jazz, crystal chandeliers, and the aroma of high-end cuisine. Richard Hoffman sat across from his latest female companion at a prime corner table. The moment the head chef personally served their dry-aged ribeye steaks, the woman immediately pulled out her diamond-encrusted smartphone, snapping multiple angled photos of the arrangement for her social media feeds. Richard’s brow furrowed in visible irritation. Rolling his eyes, he leaned back in his leather chair, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Is taking ten photos of a piece of beef really necessary? Has high-grade wagyu become that much of an exotic miracle to you?" Flustered and deeply embarrassed, the woman snapped her phone shut, sliding it back into her handbag with a huff. She sat with her arms crossed, refusing to touch her fork. Near the end of their meal, the restaurant’s General Manager approached the table, bowing deferen
The fall of Sareal kitchenware was swift and relentless. Within days of the Ashford family exposing their systematic use of toxic, sub-par materials across their luxury lines, public outrage reached a fever pitch. Showrooms across the city that were once packed with high-society buyers stood dead silent, their glass doors locked tight against angry consumer protests and relentless media coverage. To make matters worse for the moon family, Damien Vance had completely cut off his support. Without Vance Corp stepping in to absorb their debts or subsidize their operations, their remaining reserves were draining rapidly. Insolvency was no longer a distant threat—it was an absolute certainty. Meanwhile, the market spotlight shifted back toward the Ashford family's hospitality flagship. Inside the top-floor executive suite, Michael Ashford stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, reviewing the latest intelligence reports. Beside him, Ethan leaned over the mahogany desk, placing a fresh
The gentle hum of the record player was shattered by the sound of glass splintering against the hardwood floor. "Maureen?" Ethan called out, setting down his tablet as he rushed toward the lounge. Maureen stood near the floor-to-ceiling window, her hand pressed tightly against her stomach. Her face had drained of all color, paper-white and slick with a sudden cold sweat. Beneath the hem of her silk loungewear, a dark red stain was blooming rapidly, pooling onto the rug. "Ethan..." Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with sudden terror. "Something’s... wrong." Ethan’s eyes widened in horror. Without hesitation, he scooped his sister into his arms, ignoring the blood soaking into his own shirt. "Hold on! Just hold on, Maureen!" He sprinted out to the private garage, laying her gently across the back seat of his SUV before driving toward the city's private medical center. As the tires screeched out of the driveway into the pouring rain, Ethan dialed his father with a shaking
Aurora fled the main manor down the dimly lit hallway, her heels clicking sharp and fast against the marble floor as tears streamed down her cheeks. None of the house staff moved to comfort her. Over the past three years, the maids had watched her pull the exact same routine whenever she wanted to guilt Damien into submission—a tearful exit calculated to make everyone feel responsible for her distress. Inside the quiet living room, Damien sat motionless on the leather sofa. His tailored shirt was still damp from the rain outside, but he barely seemed to notice. His eyes remained fixed on the wooden box rested on the coffee table—specifically on the shredded remnants of the suit Selene had painstakingly stitched for him by hand. The room fell into heavy silence, broken only by the soft click of Sarah entering with a silver tray. "Sir," she said gently, setting a steaming mug down on the glass surface. "It's getting late. Drink some warm milk before you try to rest." Her eye
Sarah shifted uncomfortably under Damien’s intense stare, shooting a sharp, pointed look toward Aurora, who was fidgeting near the doorway."I explicitly told Miss Moon earlier today that the chest on your nightstand was off-limits," Sarah said, raising her voice just enough for the surrounding staff to hear. "I reminded her how much care Mrs Vance put into making those items before she left."Sarah deliberately emphasized Maureen’s former title as the true lady of the house, calculatedly pressing on Aurora's deepest insecurity to force her hand.The tactic worked instantly. Aurora's composure snapped."I threw it out!" she snapped, her face flushed with irritation. "I had the staff dump it!"Damien’s expression hardened, his eyes turning dangerous. "Where is it?""Why do you even care about a relic from a ended marriage?!" Aurora demanded, her voice rising in frustration. "You divorced her! I’m the one standing beside you now! Why are you still clinging to scraps she left behind? Hav
When Damien returned to the estate, rain dripped heavily from his tailored coat as if he had walked straight into a tempest.Sarah hurried into the foyer, a dry towel held in her trembling hands. "Goodness, Let me dry you off—"Without a word, Damien brushed past her, his expression stormier than the weather outside. He pushed the towel aside and ascended the grand staircase with heavy, measured steps."What on earth happened?" Sarah asked Lucas in a hushed, anxious tone. "Who could have possibly made him this furious?""If you have a moment later, try to bring him something warm," Lucas advised quietly, wringing out his own damp cuffs. "He was deceived.""Deceived?!" Sarah gasped, horrified. "A man as sharp as Damien? How could anyone pull one over on him? Should we alert the family's security team?"lucas offered a weary, bitter smile. "No police or security team can solve this. He didn't fall for a simple financial scam... he met someone who knows how to completely unravel him."He
"Welcome home, Aurora."The words rang in Selene's ears as she stood frozen in the hallway.Aurora. She knew that name. She'd spent three years trying not to think about it, and here it was, hanging in the air like it had never left. Slowly, she tightened her grip on her handbag. The tiny baby shoe
"Mrs. Vance, are you sure your husband didn't come with you today?"Selene looked up from across the doctor's desk and offered a small smile. "I came straight from the office. Damien is busy."The doctor shook his head with a chuckle as he flipped through her file. "Busy or not, I have a feeling he
The question hung in the air between them, heavier than anything Richard had said so far.Maureen forgot how to breathe for a second. She had known this moment was coming the instant her father started flipping through the report. She'd known he would find the name eventually. She just hadn't expec
Damien barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the same scene: the private café, the birthday display, Michael Ashford standing beside Selene. No, beside his ex-wife. The image irritated him more than he cared to admit, and it made no sense, because none of this should have mattered to







