That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate.
The Jilted Heiress' Return To The High Life
Between Ruin And Resolve: My Ex-Husband's Regret
Marrying A Secret Zillionaire: Happy Ever After
Don't Leave Me, Mate
Rejected No More: I Am Way Out Of Your League, Darling!
Requiem of A Broken Heart
My Coldhearted Ex Demands A Remarriage
His Unwanted Wife, The World's Coveted Genius
Pampered By The Ruthless Underground Boss
The house was too quiet. A stillness hung in the air, the kind that settled deep in your bones and made you feel like the world had stopped, if only for a moment. The kind of quiet you couldn't escape, no matter how hard you tried.
Lena Russo stood at the window of her father's study, staring out at the sprawling grounds of the estate. The rain was coming down in sheets, the heavy droplets running down the glass in thick streams, blurring the distant city lights. She barely noticed it anymore-the rain, the darkness, the mansion itself. It all felt like a prison now, each corner of the grandiose estate a reminder of the world her father had built, a world she had always resented but couldn't escape.
Her father was dead.
The words felt unreal, even as they reverberated in her mind like an ominous drumbeat. She had been numb ever since she received the call. She'd heard about the gunshots, the bloodshed, the way power had shifted in an instant. But none of it had prepared her for the finality of his death. She hadn't been close to him, not in years, but he had been her father. And now, nothing could bring him back.
A knock on the door broke the silence, pulling Lena from her thoughts. She didn't need to look to know who it was. Marcus, her father's right-hand man, the only person left in the world who knew how to navigate the chaos her father's death had unleashed.
The door opened slowly, and Marcus stepped in, his face impassive as always. He was tall, with the kind of quiet strength that came from years of surviving in a world where weakness was a death sentence. He didn't speak immediately, but his gaze flickered to the chair behind the desk-the chair that had belonged to her father. Now, it was empty.
"He's gone," Lena said, her voice soft but unwavering. It was the first time she'd said it out loud. She almost couldn't believe the words were hers.
Marcus nodded, his eyes betraying nothing. "Yes, Miss Russo. The Morettis are already making their move. The family has come to claim what's theirs."
Lena's heart stilled. The Morettis. Of all the names she had feared, it was his that haunted her dreams. Xavier Moretti-the man she had been warned about her entire life. Cold, ruthless, and driven by an unshakable desire for power. The very thought of him sent a shiver down her spine.
"They want control," Marcus continued, his voice low, as if the walls themselves might be listening. "And with your father's death, they're moving quickly to take over. You're the last piece of the puzzle."