Chapter 46 The message came just before midnight.Three words. No punctuation. No flourish.Come to dinner.Tamer stared at the screen of his phone, the glow of it pale against the dark of his apartment. He was still dressed from the evening—tie undone, shirt sleeves rolled up, a half-finished glass of whiskey warming on the edge of the coffee table.He read the message again.Then a third time.No explanation. No date or time or place. But he understood. He didn’t need details. He knew where she meant.Rodrigo Manor.He leaned back in his armchair, exhaling slowly as the gravity of it settled around him. It wasn’t just a dinner. It was a test. An invitation into a world she’d kept sealed even after she said yes to his proposal.This wasn’t about business.It wasn’t even about strategy.This was personal.And it rattled him.He had played the long game with Avery Rodrigo, never once expecting it would be easy—but always assuming he held the upper hand. He was the one pretending. He w
Chapter 45The Rodrigo estate had always been grand—crafted with cold stone, heavy wooden doors, and stained glass windows that filtered light like confessionals. But today, as Avery stepped out of her car and walked toward the front entrance, the house felt quieter.Less like an empire.More like a farewell.The nurses had wheeled Richard Rodrigo through those same double doors just hours earlier. Against the advice of every doctor, every specialist, every desperate voice pleading for a few more days of monitored care, he had signed his own discharge.He wanted to die at home.Not in a bed surrounded by machines.Avery stepped into the foyer with careful footsteps. There was no music. No bustle of staff. Just the soft echo of her heels against marble and the weight of time pressing in from every corner.Justin was already waiting near the staircase. He gave her a quiet nod.“He’s in the garden,” he said. “With Shane.”She handed him her coat and walked without speaking.Outside, the
Chapter 45The Rodrigo estate had always been grand—crafted with cold stone, heavy wooden doors, and stained glass windows that filtered light like confessionals. But today, as Avery stepped out of her car and walked toward the front entrance, the house felt quieter.Less like an empire.More like a farewell.The nurses had wheeled Richard Rodrigo through those same double doors just hours earlier. Against the advice of every doctor, every specialist, every desperate voice pleading for a few more days of monitored care, he had signed his own discharge.He wanted to die at home.Not in a bed surrounded by machines.Avery stepped into the foyer with careful footsteps. There was no music. No bustle of staff. Just the soft echo of her heels against marble and the weight of time pressing in from every corner.Justin was already waiting near the staircase. He gave her a quiet nod.“He’s in the garden,” he said. “With Shane.”She handed him her coat and walked without speaking.Outside, the
The next morning broke behind a thick curtain of clouds.Rain pressed lightly against the windows of the Rodrigo estate, a steady rhythm that muted the world outside into soft gray silence. Avery sat alone in the breakfast lounge, the long table set for a dozen but touched only by her presence.She hadn’t slept.Not truly.Even hours after she’d left Elise’s glittering world of laughter, velvet, and champagne, the image of the kiss refused to leave her mind. Not just the kiss itself, but the moment afterward—the one that twisted deeper.When she looked at Tamer and felt something she hadn’t expected to feel.Possession. Resentment. Vulnerability.It had slithered into her like smoke and wrapped around the very core of her. And she hated how it lingered.The soft clink of porcelain interrupted her thoughts. Justin entered the room, carrying a folder in one hand and her preferred tea in the other.“I assumed you’d be up early,” he said.“I never slept,” she murmured.Justin placed the f
The city lights danced on the surface of the river like fractured stars, glimmering in time with the thrum of music from inside the Carmichael estate. Avery stood at the edge of the veranda, one hand braced against the stone railing, the other still holding her untouched wine. The cold slipped beneath the silk of her gown, brushing her skin like a warning. She barely noticed. Her heart had finally begun to settle, but her mind hadn’t. Not since the moment Elise kissed Tamer. Not since she saw that flicker of stillness in him—that second of not-pulling-away. And not since she caught her own reflection in the tall glass door afterward and didn’t recognize the expression staring back. Jealousy. Raw and unwelcome. It clung to her ribs like smoke, impossible to swallow. She wasn’t supposed to feel this. She wasn’t supposed to care. He was a tool. A stepping stone. A beautifully disguised danger she had accepted into her life not out of love, but out of vengeance. This was her plan.
The invitation arrived in a sealed white envelope—thick, gold-embossed, the kind of luxury that spoke in subtle code. It bore no return address. Just her name. Avery Rodrigo. Handwritten. Elegant.She turned it over once, then twice, as if that might explain the suddenness of it.Inside was a simple card, inked with precise calligraphy:The Carmichael Estate cordially invites you to an intimate evening gathering to celebrate the success of the Solaris Green Project. Thursday at seven. Dress formal. Private guests only.At the bottom, scrawled in quick cursive:– Elise.Avery’s brows arched.Elise Carmichael.A name she hadn’t heard in years but hadn’t forgotten. Heiress to one of the oldest real estate dynasties in the city. The woman was known for hosting decadent events attended by politicians, celebrities, and the moneyed elite.They had crossed paths briefly in a charity circle years ago—mutual, polite, and distant. But Avery had never once considered Elise a friend.So why the in