Victor couldn''t be bothered to respond—he simply turned a blind eye and let things slide.


    "Take us back to Summit Crest Estates," he ordered, his voice low and


    "Yes, Mr. Fitzgerald," Kemp replied quietly, swallowing the words about Victor''s


    scheduled meeting with the president of Sino Trust Bank. He''d just have to cancel


    it.


    The driver turned the wheel, guiding the car onto another wide avenue. After a while, they finally pulled into the private parking lot reserved for Summit Crest Estates residents.


    Victor headed straight for his private elevator and rode it up to the sixty-sixth floor penthouse. The door''s keypad recognized his code and unlocked with a soft click. He strode inside, his steps echoing in the cavernous silence.


    The stillness felt uncanny, the air thick with a kind of emptiness that pressed in from every corner.


    He walked straight to the bedroom and pushed open the door. It was quiet in here too. The bed was perfectly made, theforter folded neatly at the side. If not for the woman''s clothes tossed in theundry basket, Victor might have convinced himselfst night was nothing but a dream.


    He let out a soft, humorlessugh. She''d run off again.


    Standing tall, one hand in his pocket, Victor gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows. The evening sun cast his shadow long across the hardwood, smudging the edges with a faint, lonely gold.


    He never thought he''d experience this: defeat.


    Growing up, he was the heir to the Capitolion legacy, the crown prince of the Fitzgeralds. He was the CEO of The Fitzgerald Group, a world-ss conglomerate. He had more wealth and power than most could ever imagine.


    But today—damn it—he felt a sharp sting of disappointment. For the first time, he tasted the bitterness of loss.


    Isadora, after all this time, can''t you see me?


    He stood there for a long while before finally turning to leave, hand poised to shut the door. Something made him pause. His dark eyes scanned the room. The sapphire bracelet-it was gone. She''d taken it with her.


    *


    At the Fitzgerald family''s ancestral home, Deanna set down the phone. The gentle warmth on her face faded, reced by a coolposure.


    She nced at Nannie, who was standing nearby. Her voice was calm, almost casual. "No need to keep cooking. Victor won''t being home for dinner."


    "Yes, ma''am."


    Nannie ced the tray of butter cookies she''d been preparing on the dining table, slipped off her blue apron, and handed it to a waiting housekeeper. Then she quietly walked over and took a seat across from Deanna in the sitting room.


    Deanna lifted her teacup, brushing away the foam with the lid. Her tone was unhurried as she asked, "How did things go today?"


    Nannie folded her hands neatly in herp. "Honestly, I don''t think she''s worth your attention, ma''am."


    "Is that so?" Deanna''s reply was perfectly neutral-but after years by her side, Nannie could sense the steel beneath. She tensed, fingers clutching her skirt without realizing.


    Deanna''s sharp gaze pinned her like a hawk. "No wonder my grandson isn''t interested in you, Nannie. You had the best chance, you know."


    It was a test. Nannie carefully hid her reaction, her voice soft and measured. "I only ever saw Mr. Fitzgerald as an older brother. I wouldn''t dream of anything else. Being able to help you is already a blessing."


    Deanna smiled faintly. “Your mother''s birthday ising up, isn''t it? I''ll give her the vi in North Solstrand as a retirement gift."


    "Thank you, ma''am."


    "Nannie, when all this is over, I''ll arrange a meeting for you with the eldest son of the ke family. The kes are among the most prestigious families in Solstrand. I''ve always treated you like my own granddaughter-I hope you won''t disappoint me."


    "Ma''am, I don''t..." Nannie started to protest, but the chill in Deanna''s eyes made her fall silent. Instinctively, she changed course. "Of course. I understand."