Rhys sat in the dimly lit living room of the Rhodes mini house, a bottle of whiskey open on the small table in front of him. The light flickered slightly, casting shadows across the room as he leaned back into the worn leather chair. His mind wandered as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass, the ice clinking softly against the sides. The house was eerily quiet—just the occasional creak of the floorboards and the distant hum of traffic outside. It had been days since he left the mansion. Days since he stormed out, unable to face the betrayal he felt after the scandal had unfolded. His mind had been spinning ever since, torn between rage and confusion. Now, sitting in solitude, those emotions festered in the silence.His phone buzzed on the table, interrupting his thoughts. Rhys glanced at it, the name “Wifey” lighting up the screen. His jaw clenched. **Denera**. It was the tenth time she had called since he left. The sight of her name triggered a swell of emotions—anger, frust

The morning sun filtered through the tall glass windows of the Majestic Skies building, casting soft golden rays across the marble floors of the sleek corporate lobby. Employees bustled about, focused on their tasks, their footsteps echoing softly in the expansive space. But there was an undercurrent of tension in the air, at least for Paul and Rachel, as they made their way toward Ethan’s office.Paul walked slightly ahead, his mind still replaying last night’s conversation. He’d promised Rachel that they would talk to Ethan about Mr. Mark Dave’s suspicious behavior, but something about it made him uneasy. It wasn’t just the mystery surrounding the shady board member, it was the potential danger that came with it. Beside him, Rachel was quiet, her brow furrowed in concentration. She had been replaying the events of the previous day in her mind over and over again, every detail feeling more critical with each passing hour. She just couldn’t shake the feeling that something bigger w

The room was dim, curtains drawn to block out the afternoon sun. Gerald lay sprawled on a king-sized bed, two women nestled close to him, their bodies entwined under the soft, silk duvet that barely concealed their nakedness. The scent of perfume and sweat still lingered in the air, the remnants of the indulgence from the night before. One of the women stirred slightly in her sleep, her arm draped lazily across his chest. Gerald, caught between them, breathed steadily, lost in a deep nap.The steady buzz of his phone, vibrating against the polished wood of the nightstand, cut through the quiet. It jolted Gerald awake, his eyes squinting in the dim light. Groaning, he reached out, feeling for the phone with his hand, careful not to wake the women beside him. His fingers finally found the device, and he pulled it closer to his face, blinking away the sleep. The name "Denera" glowed on the screen.He answered with a half-muttered, “Yeah, what’s up this time?” His voice was still thick

The night was heavy with silence as Mr. Mark Dave pulled up to the underground parking garage, the headlights of his car cutting through the eerie stillness of the half-finished building. The structure loomed above him, skeletal in its incompletion, with shadows playing tricks along the concrete walls. It was the perfect place for meetings that required secrecy—an abandoned work site, isolated and forgotten, where no one ventured this late at night.Jason’s black car was already parked in the same spot it had been in during their last clandestine rendezvous. Its sleek design blended into the darkness, barely discernible if not for the dim glow of the streetlights filtering through the gaps in the unfinished walls. Mark Dave could feel his heart racing in his chest as he slowly parked his car a few meters away. He scanned the area, his eyes flickering to every corner, every possible hiding spot. He was paranoid, and rightfully so. He was meeting with Jason, a man known for his rut

Denera sat alone in her dimly lit room, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting long shadows across the walls. The silence around her was thick, almost oppressive, but it suited her mood. She had a lot to think about—plans, strategies, and the next move in the intricate web of deception she was spinning. Her eyes were fixed on the wall in front of her, but her mind was far from the physical space she occupied.She leaned back into the plush cushions of the oversized armchair, her thoughts circling back to the conversation she’d had with Gerald. Her fingers absentmindedly tapped against the armrest as she replayed the moment in her head.“I want to take Jason off the board,” she had told him, her voice firm and resolute. They had been in a secluded part of Gerald’s estate, away from prying eyes. She had made her stance clear. Jason, her brother, had become a liability. A threat. He was meddling too much in affairs he had no business in—affairs that affected her life with Rhys.Gera