Kelvin's POVFollowing my plan, I entered the room, but K was nowhere to be seen. The curtain was still drawn, but the space behind it remained empty. K had vanished, and communication had ceased days ago. The only information he'd provided about Selena wasn't particularly valuable, yet he'd still charged me for it.The only message K had sent was a promise of his return and the coming of revenge. Fuming, I turned to the bar manager. "I need to see your CCTV footage.""Unfortunately, it's useless," he replied. "We tried to identify K, but he's always covered up, and he doesn't leave any fingerprints.""Are you absolutely certain there's no way for Wayne to find something?" Wayne, presumably, was someone skilled in extracting information."Positive, Mr. Marino.""Damn it!" This situation was a complete mess. I stormed out of the bar, anger propelling me towards my car.I should have been overseeing the doll shipment right now, instead of scrambling to find a way to keep Jake off my bac

Diego's POVPushing open the heavy oak door, I stepped into my father's study. The bodyguard followed me in, then discreetly shut the door behind me. My eyes needed a moment to adjust to the dim light – a stark contrast to the bright hallway.I always wondered why Dad preferred such a shadowy environment. Even with all the modern advancements, he clung to his old ways. And somehow, they seemed to work for him.His father had built the Lorenzo empire, and Dad was determined to maintain it, eventually passing the reins to me. The Lorenzo name alone instilled fear in people's hearts, a legend whispered of it as a nightmare to children.Cash in various currencies overflowed one of the corner chairs, while another held a pile of coins. How did he keep track of it all, practically a prisoner in his own office ever since my mother, his first wife, passed away?Of course, he'd remarried – out of necessity, to fill the role of a mother for me. I was grateful for my stepmother – a strong, bold

Diego's POVI tapped my fingers impatiently on my desk. The room was silent except for the rhythmic tapping. Glancing down at the paper in front of me, I saw my assistant waiting patiently across the desk.How easy could this be? A smirk played on my lips as I realized things were getting more interesting by the day. So, I had something like this in my possession all along?"Where did you say you found this?" I asked my assistant, raising an eyebrow."On the top shelf you requested I rearrange, sir," they replied promptly."Thank you. You're dismissed."My assistant left the room, closing the door softly behind them. Picking up the document again, I reread it carefully. It was real. An agreement signed by my father and, apparently, me years ago, stating I was to marry Selena Dacosta. How could I have forgotten something like this?The game had just shifted dramatically in my favor. A slow smile spread across my face. Reaching for my phone, I dialed Selena's number. It was unfortunate

Selena's POVMy mother seemed on the verge of saying something but clamped her shut without a word. She cast a worried glance at my father, frail and vulnerable in the hospital bed. This was truly my Asian father, and a wave of conflicting emotions washed over me. Part of me yearned to forgive him, the other to lash out.My mother drew closer to the bed, taking a seat beside him. She reached for his right hand, gently rubbing it with tenderness."Why?" I finally managed, a single, choked question escaping my lips.My mother remained focused on my father, her voice barely a whisper when she replied, "We needed help, and Diego Lorenzo isn't someone to take lightly. When the company was on the verge of collapse, he offered assistance in exchange for your father's signature on that agreement.""Without even consulting me?" My voice rose a notch."He is your father," she said, her tone defensive. "He believed he was making the best decision to secure the company's future.""Choice?" I s

Diego's POVMy phone buzzed incessantly throughout my gym session. I should've silenced it – the constant interruptions ruined my weightlifting routine. Frustrated, I cut my workout short and headed for a quick shower. After washing away the sweat, I donned my suit and tie again, adjusting the knot in front of the locker room's full-length mirror.Emerging from the shower, I glared at my phone screen – it was my assistant bombarding me with calls. If something urgent required my attention, he knew where to find me. Leaving my phone in the locker would've been smarter.Just as I decided not to return the call, it rang again. This time, I answered before he could launch into another frantic message."Mr. Dacosta is dead," he blurted out, wasting no time with pleasantries.The news hit me like a sucker punch. "What? When?""This morning, sir," my assistant replied. "The Dacosta family kept it out of the news somehow. They were very private.""Private no more, I suspect," I muttered, a ne