LOGINThe morning sun gently filtered through the white linen curtains covering the windows of the master bedroom at the Branson residence. The morning air felt cool, carrying the fragrant scent of gardenias blooming perfectly in the garden beside the house.On the elegantly arranged king-sized bed, Ravelle stirred gently. She slowly opened her eyes, blinking several times to adjust to the sunlight streaming in. Beside her, Erlan was still peacefully asleep. The man's strong arm was wrapped perfectly around Ravelle's waist, holding her tightly as though he were afraid of losing her.Ravelle smiled faintly. Her slender fingers slowly reached out, gently fixing the strands of Erlan's black hair that were slightly tousled across his forehead. The man who was now her legal husband looked so peaceful and captivating, even in his sleep.The past few months had been the most beautiful chapter of Ravelle's life. After their dream wedding on the coast of Malibu, their days had been filled with peace
The cold, stuffy air inside the isolation block of the State Detention Center pierced all the way to the bone. In the corner of the cramped cell with its rough cement floor, Kyle Stevens curled up on a thin, worn-out folding mattress. The orange prison uniform clinging to his body looked increasingly oversized, hanging loosely over his increasingly thin and neglected frame. His hair was disheveled, while a thick beard covered half of his face, reflecting a mental collapse that had reached its lowest point.On a small wooden table beside his bed, a borrowed inmate tablet that allowed access to daily news glowed dimly. The small screen displayed a rerun of a luxury lifestyle documentary and footage of the lavish wedding on the Malibu coast that had just been broadcast by various national television stations.Kyle stared at the screen with bloodshot eyes, the veins clearly visible. Tears streamed down his sunken cheeks, falling endlessly onto the surface of his shabby blanket.On the scr
The sea breeze from the Atlantic Ocean blew gently, carrying its distinctive salty scent and brushing through Ravelle’s beautiful hair that cascaded over her flowing white wedding gown. Several months had passed since the storm of slander and the collapse of Kyle and Rossa’s corrupt alliance had subsided. Now, across the well-manicured green lawn in the backyard of a luxurious private villa on the coast of Malibu, California, a pristine white wedding altar stood majestically, facing the vast ocean directly.The afternoon sky slowly transformed into a gradient of orange, golden, and soft purple, reflecting the breathtaking glow of the setting sun across the surface of the sea. The atmosphere around the altar felt sacred, warm, and intimate. There were no crowds of reporters or provocative camera flashes; only the presence of close family members and sincere friends who had come to celebrate the most historic day in Ravelle and Erlan’s lives.In the front row of seats, Grandfather Brans
The familiar scent of antiseptic and IV fluids that usually felt so strong and suffocating inside the V.I.P. ward of Medika Utama Hospital now seemed to have been replaced by fresh and calming air. Morning sunlight streamed through the gap between the curtains of the hospital room, casting a warm golden glow across the white marble floor.On the neatly arranged hospital bed, Grandpa Branson slowly opened his eyes. The elderly man’s eyelids moved gradually as they adjusted to the light filtering into the room. The wrinkles on his forehead seemed to relax, and his breathing, which had nearly stopped several days ago, now flowed steadily, indicating that he had successfully survived the most critical period of his life.Ravelle, who had been faithfully sitting beside the bed since the previous night while tightly holding her grandfather’s palm, immediately straightened her body, holding her breath. Tears of emotion instantly welled up in her eyes.“Grandpa...” Ravelle called out in a hoa
The damp smell, rusted metal, and stuffy air blended together inside the isolation cell block of the State Detention Center. The morning sunlight could only seep faintly through the small iron bars high on the wall, casting gray lines across the cold cement floor. In the corner of the cramped room, Kyle Stevens sat crouched with his back against the rough stone wall. The orange prison uniform clinging to his body looked wrinkled and oversized, reflecting just how drastically the man had lost weight over the past few days.Kyle covered his grimy face with both hands, his face covered with a thin, unkempt beard. His eyes were swollen as he stared blankly at the empty floor in front of him. There was no longer any trace of the arrogant smirk or manipulative smile he used to display whenever he tried to bring Ravelle down. All that remained now was deafening silence and shadows of the past that came crashing down upon him repeatedly like a merciless tidal wave.Inside his mind, old memori
The morning sun had just begun to rise, casting a golden glow over the towering main building of Branson Group in the heart of the capital. However, the atmosphere on the ground floor of the magnificent building was filled with a tense and oppressive atmosphere. Dozens of members of the media, from print journalists and national television stations to digital investigative journalists, crowded into the press conference room. Camera spotlights and microphones were lined up tightly across the podium table, creating a constant hum from thousands of curious people.Behind the main stage, Ravelle stood tall, wearing a formal black suit with a white silk inner shirt. Her face looked calm, radiating an extraordinary aura of determination and authority. There were no longer any traces of tears or sorrow from the previous night. Beside her, Erlan stood with his arm protectively around Ravelle’s waist, providing invaluable moral support. In Erlan’s hand was a thick black folder containing all t
Without waiting for Kyle's reaction as he remained frozen in place, Ravelle turned the handle of the mansion's double doors, stepped outside with her back perfectly straight, and shut them with a firm click that echoed loudly.“Ravelle! Wait!” Kyle shouted after his ego as the head of the household
Ravelle pressed her fingers together as they felt as cold as ice while stepping out of Kyle's private study. Her chest churned, no longer with sadness, but with measured anger.With calm steps carefully controlled to make no sound, she intended to head to the clean kitchen for a glass of water. How
Ravelle remained motionless where she stood.The world around her seemed to move in slow motion, testing every limit of mental endurance she possessed. The words Calysta had just spoken no longer shattered her heart; instead, they crystallized a deep sense of disgust.“Oh, Ravelle? You're home alre
“How is that possible?!”Ravelle's voice rose, not out of hysteria, but from a demand for logic that flatly refused to accept what she had just heard.“I live with him every day! We share a bed, manage assets together, and celebrate our wedding anniversary! How can the government declare that we've







