Stephen stepped out of the elevator into the top floor of the hotel, his mind inside a whirlwind of ruminations on the weird dictum of the system. He neared his penthouse door, fumbling in his pocket for his keycard. Bringing it out, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. To his surprise, Marianne was there, seated in his sofa in a striking red gown that hugged provocatively her curves. Stephen's eyebrows rose in a frown. "Marianne, what are you doing here?" he enquired, trying to keep a suspicion from springing into his voice. Marianne smiled at him carnally, her eyes shining with some kind of scheming. "I thought we could spend some time together, sweetheart," she purred, her words dripping with honeyed sweetness. Stephen's ire was continuing to burn, but he was still trying to maintain his cool. "I am not in the mood for games, Marianne," he said firmly. "What have you really come here for?" Marianne's smile flickered again, and her mask slipped. "I. wanted to see you," she ad

Victor's entrance startled everyone in the room, his voice echoing with disbelief. "Marianne, what are you doing?" he demanded, his eyes searching hers for recognition. But Marianne's response left him stunned. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion as she looked at him blankly. Victor's frustration bubbled to the surface, his jaw tensing. "How can you not remember me?" he exclaimed, his tone a mixture of anger and hurt. The doctor stepped in, his voice calm but firm. "Mrs. King has suffered memory loss due to her accident," he explained, his words carrying weight in the tense atmosphere. Victor's brows furrowed in frustration. "I don't care," he retorted, his gaze unwavering. "She's my wife, and she's coming home with me." But Mr. Harriganton's voice interrupted, his tone decisive. "It's Marianne's decision," he stated firmly, his gaze steady as he looked at his daughter. Victor turned to Marianne, his heart aching at the thought of her not recognizing him. "

Stephen woke up the next morning with a stiff neck from sleeping on the couch. Marianne’s loud snoring had kept him awake most of the night. He sighed, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him. His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since yesterday.He walked to the dining table, hoping to find something to eat, but the sight made him groan. Plates and leftover food were scattered everywhere. It was a mess, clearly Marianne’s doing. He shook his head, deciding it was better to head to King’s Empire. Even the monotony of business meetings was preferable to dealing with this chaos.Stephen headed to the bathroom to freshen up. When he lifted the toilet lid, he recoiled. Marianne hadn’t flushed. The sight and smell made him gag. He flushed the toilet, muttering to himself, “This is unbelievable.”After showering and dressing, Stephen left the penthouse, escaping the mess and Marianne’s torment. He took the elevator down, the silence giving him a brief respite. As

Stephen stood before the mirror, adjusting his suit. He sprayed on his favorite cologne, the scent calming his nerves. Today was the day he'd finally expose Marianne. He smiled to himself as he left the penthouse, ready for the confrontation. Marianne had chosen the hotel's grand hall for their wedding. Music echoed through the building as guests mingled and congratulated Stephen. He forced a smile, hiding his true intentions. Arriving at the entrance, the doors opened to reveal a crowd of familiar and unfamiliar faces. The room was filled with influential and wealthy individuals, all waiting for the ceremony to begin. Stephen smirked as he saw Marianne standing at the altar, dressed in a pristine white gown and holding a bouquet. Her parents stood nearby, looking uneasy. Stephen walked down the aisle, his steps measured and confident. He joined Marianne at the altar, the priest beginning the ceremony. The atmosphere was tense, a sharp contrast to the cheerful facade. When the pri

Gaga leaned back, the lollipop still in her mouth. "We received a call from your company a few days ago," she began. "A complaint from one of your staff." Stephen glanced at Victor, suspecting he might be the one behind the call. "I treat my workers well," Stephen said, folding his arms. "I've increased their salaries. Any complaints might be from someone jealous of me." Victor didn't flinch, maintaining his composed demeanor. Gaga stood up, sauntering over to the table in a seductive manner. "Darling," she said, perching on the edge of the table, "will you explain the financial discrepancies and incompetence in management?" Stephen frowned. "What do you mean?" Gaga's voice turned serious. "We've been monitoring your accounts. There's a significant amount of money there, far more than King's Empire has made recently. And you're risking the company's future by mining all the gold at once, ignoring warnings fro