LOGIN"Miss... please don't kill me!" Erick cried, his hoarse voice echoing through every corner of the room. His hands were clasped tightly in front of his chest as he begged for mercy, tears beginning to well in the corners of his wrinkled eyes.
Camelia did not stop. Every click of her heels against the floor sounded like a countdown to the remaining moments of the man's life. She came to a halt directly in front of Erick, looking down at her late mother's former secretary with eyes burning from years of suppressed fury. "You used to be my mother's most trusted confidant—her right-hand man," Camelia said, her voice low but heavy enough to suffocate the atmosphere in the room. Leaning forward, she stared directly into Erick's restless eyes. "You were involved in the filthy scheme to destroy her until she fell into depression and took her own life, weren't you?" "No! No, Miss! I swear to God, it wasn't me!" Erick shook his head frantically, waving his hands desperately as though trying to push the accusation away. "I was only a secretary handling administrative work! I truly knew nothing about that conspiracy!" Hearing such a cliché denial, Camelia's jaw tightened. A dry, cynical laugh escaped her lips. "You claim you knew nothing? Really, Erick... do you think I'm that foolish? Do you think I came back to this country without any evidence?" In one swift, practiced motion, Camelia reached inside her long coat. Click. The metallic sound shattered the silence as she drew a black handgun and pointed it directly at Erick's forehead. The muzzle was no more than three centimeters from his skin. "Now tell me the truth, or your head will become the next target of this bullet before you even have time to blink," Camelia threatened, her finger already resting lightly on the trigger, ready to pull it at any moment. Erick stumbled backward until his back slammed against the edge of a table. Cold sweat poured down his face and neck. Seeing the madness and unwavering determination in Camelia's eyes, he knew she was not bluffing. "Please don't do this, Miss! Please lower the gun! I'll tell you... I'll tell you everything!" Erick pleaded between ragged breaths. His lips trembling, Erick finally revealed every dark secret he had hidden for years. He exposed the forged documents, the mysterious flow of money, and Bagaskara's corrupt involvement in collaborating with outside parties to manipulate the financial reports of Camelia's late mother's company. After hearing the entire confession, Camelia slowly lowered her gun. The corners of her lips lifted into a satisfied smile filled with cold triumph. "I knew it. The rats inside the house are always part of its downfall." Meanwhile, elsewhere, Vivian sat inside her car with a sly smile that never left her face. Her slender fingers, painted with bright red nail polish, tapped lightly against her phone screen before pressing the call button on a number she knew by heart. She had to act quickly to strengthen the trap she had already set. The phone rang only twice before a deep, cold voice answered. "What is it, Vivian?" Vivian took a deep breath, deliberately forcing her voice to tremble as though she were desperately holding back tears. "Morgan... I think our relationship ends here. We should break up." On the other end of the line, Morgan had just climbed into his private car. He froze. His brows knitted tightly together as he frowned at the sudden, one-sided decision. "What do you mean, Vivian? Why are you saying this all of a sudden?" "Morgan, I hope you and Camelia will have a happy marriage," Vivian said, deliberately making her voice sound choked with sobs. Her performance was flawless. "I'm sorry... I truly didn't know that you and Camelia had been in love behind my back all this time." Morgan's jaw instantly tightened. His mind immediately flashed back to what had happened in Hotel Room 404 that morning, and to the way Camelia had rejected him with undisguised hatred. "What did Camelia say to you, Vivian?! Did she come to see you?!" "Camelia didn't tell me anything directly, Morgan," Vivian replied, carefully softening her voice to provoke him further. "She... she was proudly telling people that the two of you had already slept together. She flaunted your intimate relationship right in front of me!" Bang! Morgan slammed his fist against the steering wheel so hard that the horn blared. His blood boiled at Vivian's words. How dare that woman cross the line and spread what had happened that night just to destroy his relationship? Blinded by fury, Morgan abruptly ended the call. He slammed his foot on the accelerator and turned the car around, speeding back toward the office building where he had seen Camelia with her assistant only minutes earlier. Inside the VIP room, Camelia had just begun returning her handgun to her coat when the double doors were suddenly kicked open with tremendous force, crashing against the wall. Bang! Morgan stood in the doorway, breathing heavily, his eyes burning red with pure rage. Ignoring Noah, who instantly moved into a defensive stance, and Erick, who cowered in terror once again, Morgan strode across the room. Before anyone could react, he seized Camelia's wrist with an iron grip and forcefully pulled her toward the exit. "Morgan! What the hell are you doing?! Let me go!" Camelia shouted, digging in her heels and struggling against his powerful grip. But Morgan was far stronger. Without mercy, he continued dragging her down the corridor. Noah rushed after them, trying to intervene. "Mr. Morgan, let go of Miss Camelia!" "Shut up! Stay out of this, or I'll destroy you too!" Morgan roared, shooting Noah a murderous glare that momentarily stopped him in his tracks. Morgan continued dragging Camelia until they reached the deserted emergency staircase. There, he shoved her roughly against the concrete wall, carefully keeping her head from striking it. He trapped her in place, planting both hands against the wall on either side of her head. "Let me go, Morgan!" Camelia shouted directly into his face, breathing hard from both anger and exhaustion. Her defiance only fueled Morgan's fury. He leaned in until only a breath separated them. "I'm going to make you pay, Camelia! You're nothing but a two-faced woman!" "What exactly do you want, the great Mr. Morgan?!" Camelia shot back defiantly, staring straight into his eyes without the slightest hint of fear. "You want to know what I want?" Morgan scoffed, a dangerous, mocking smile spreading across his tense face. Grabbing Camelia by the chin, he forced her to keep looking at him. "Have you already forgotten your promise this morning? You promised to keep your mouth shut and never tell Vivian that I slept with you! But what did you do instead? You deliberately ruined my relationship by boasting about that damned night to Vivian!"The cold glow of fluorescent lights reflected off the pristine granite floors of Nusantara-Gading Private International Hospital. The digital clock on the wall in the seventh-floor laboratory corridor read exactly ten o’clock at night. Outside, fine rain streaked the glass windows of the high-rise building, while inside, the air hung heavy with a freezing, breathless tension.The forty-eight-hour countdown Morgan had given Camelia was nearing its halfway point. Tomorrow morning at eight o’clock, that fateful deadline would arrive.In the main molecular analysis laboratory, Dr. Richard—Morgan’s trusted physician and a leading authority in forensic medicine—was carefully inspecting each test tube prepared for cell-free fetal DNA (cfDNA) extraction. The cutting-edge non-invasive prenatal testing (NIPT) technology they used could isolate fetal DNA fragments from the mother’s bloodstream with 99.9% accuracy, posing zero risk to either mother or child.“Genetic reference data for Mr. Morgan
Camelia Nusantara stood before the grand glass windows. Upon her pale, beautiful face rested an unsettling calm—the quiet resignation of someone who had weathered a tempest of emotion and steeled themselves to accept the heaviest decision of their life.Behind her, upon the wooden desk, a small black velvet box lay open. The diamond engagement ring within caught the glow of the dying embers in the fireplace, glimmering faintly, dull and cold.Bang.The office door burst open violently. As the cold air from the hallway rushed in, Morgan Erlangga strode hurriedly into the room.He wore a long coat damp with rain. His face—usually so composed, so firmly in control of every emotion—was etched deep with unmistakable anxiety. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and his breath came in ragged gasps—a rare sight indeed for the man who presented himself to the world as the perfect, unflappable leader.Morgan stopped several paces behind her. He stared at her straight, unyielding back, and fe
Stacked upon the desk were countless business reports of Nusantara Heritage. Yet Camelia’s gaze never once drifted toward the columns of figures laid out before her. She sat there, her mind far away, merely watching the flickering flames dance in the fireplace. The emotional exhaustion that had built up over these past few days was slowly eroding away at her remarkable strength.She had decided to step away from Jakarta temporarily to clear her mind. But here, in this old villa filled with memories of her childhood, the very things she had tried so hard to forget kept rising to the surface—how her family had fallen; how she had grown up without ever knowing her father’s warmth; how the uncertainty of her past had left such deep, unhealed scars.Knock, knock.The sound of someone rapping gently on the wooden door cut through the silence of the room. Bi Asih, the veteran housekeeper who had served this household since the late Pradipta’s time, stepped in with an expression of awkward he
The fifty-fourth floor of the Erlangga Holdings Main Building, usually blazing with light, lay bathed in dim, ghostly glow at three in the morning. Inside the concealed tactical control room, hidden behind the wood-paneled walls of Morgan’s office, banks of high-resolution monitors displayed rolling digital charts, international banking algorithms, and encrypted medical data networks.Morgan Erlangga stood at the center of the room, sleeves rolled up, top button of his black shirt undone. His gaze was cold, sharp, fixed unwaveringly on the three main screens before him. No trace of exhaustion remained in his firm features—only the absolute focus of a predator closing in on its prey.Beside him, David’s fingers flew across a mechanical keyboard, running repeated hacking protocols targeting Swiss banking servers. On the other side of the command desk, Noah—former tactical intelligence analyst and now head of Erlangga’s field security—unfolded a detailed map of Valeria Danubrata’s commun
The dawn had barely broken over Jakarta when the Erlangga family’s Menteng residence was jolted by a flurry of urgent phone calls. Faint golden light seeped past tall silk curtains into the family living room, where Madame Helena Erlangga sat rigidly upon her carved mahogany sofa. On the glass table before her lay three leading business newspapers and a digital tablet—all screaming the same headline:SECRET PREGNANCY BEHIND THE ERLANGGA EMPIRE: CRACKS IN THE ERLANGGA-NUSANTARA ALLIANCE?Whispers once confined to closed stock market circles had exploded into public view. Reports claimed a respected woman, Morgan Erlangga’s close childhood friend, carried a pure-blooded Erlangga heir—threatening to shatter the grand engagement between Morgan and Camelia Nusantara.Helena massaged her throbbing temples. Her emerald-ringed fingers trembled faintly. For decades, she had guarded the Erlangga dynasty’s dignity; rumors like these were poison to its reputation.“Madame,” Bi Inah, the senior ho
It was two o’clock at the Erlangga Holding headquarters. The fifty-fourth floor, usually a sanctuary of calm, precision, and efficiency, now hid a carefully woven, invisible web of manipulation.Camelia Nusantara stepped out of the private VIP elevator. She wore a soft pastel cream blazer that spoke of professional elegance. Tucked securely in her arms was a thick leather portfolio holding the final evaluation documents for the Erlangga-Nusantara Global Initiative—meant to be reviewed and approved together with Morgan before the board meeting that afternoon.As she approached the front secretary’s desk, Maya—Morgan’s personal secretary—stood looking awkward and visibly nervous.“Good afternoon, Miss Camelia,” Maya greeted with a polite bow.“Good afternoon, Maya. Is Morgan in his office?” Camelia asked warmly, her genuine smile radiating steady peace.“Mr. Morgan just went down to the fifty-third floor with Mr. David for an urgent meeting with the board commissioners, Miss,” Maya repl







