Chapter 8

The scent of antiseptic and stale coffee always made Clara’s stomach churn.

She stood in the hospital cafeteria the next morning, clutching a flimsy paper cup of decaf. Upstairs, her father was resting comfortably in the VIP cardiac recovery wing. Victor’s money had instantly upgraded h

Chapter 9

The text message arrived at 11:42 PM.

Clara was sitting cross-legged on the plush, oversized sofa in Victor’s penthouse, a tablet balanced on her knees as she reviewed the *real* blueprints for the Oasis project. The penthouse was quiet, save for the rhythmic drumming of rain against th

Chapter 10

The storm broke exactly four hours later.

Clara had just returned to the penthouse, the adrenaline from her encounter with Julian still humming through her veins, when Victor’s private elevator pinged open. Victor stepped out, his face like thunder, a sleek tablet gripped so tightly in