?Chapter 603:


    The third gift was nothing short of extravagant—two private yachts. Not one, but two. Therger of the pair towered five stories above the waterline, a floating pce built to host glittering soirées or full-scale gs with a thousand guests. The smaller vessel, sleek and understated, was made for quiet weekends away or low-key gatherings among trusted friends. Both were docked at the marina, polished and waiting—ready to sail at Elliana’s whim.


    Elliana’s head was already spinning from Cole’s unrelenting disy of wealth. But when her eyes fell on the fourth gift, it was as if the sky cracked open—houses. Not just a few. Not a handful. Thousands. Sprawling mountain estates, sun-drenched coastal vis, minimalist penthouses perched in skyscrapers—he had gifted her an empire of real estate scattered across the globe. If she moved into a new one every single day, it would take nearly three years to visit them all. One per year? She’d need a thousand lifetimes.


    By the time Elliana reached the end of the list, she was frozen in stunned silence. Was Cole trying to bury her alive under an avnche of luxury? Clifton, Kieran, Heather, and Damian exchanged speechless nces, each silently acknowledging the same truth—this was the level of excess reserved for the wildly, unfathomably rich.


    Jeff, seated beside her, couldn’t suppress the curl of his lip. Cole, the king of overkill. A man with no sense of restraint or taste. Lavish to the point of vulgarity. Fine—he’d admit it to himself. He was envious. He loved Elliana. But while he hovered at her side like a quiet shadow, Cole dered his affection with the force of a luxury tsunami.


    No amount of devotion couldpete with a man who seemed hell-bent on purchasing her world. And as the gifts kepting, Jeff’s heart bore another scar—deep, quiet, invisible.


    Finally, Elliana broke the silence, her voice ragged with exasperation. She looked up at Myles. “Please, go back and tell Mr. Evans—tell him to stop sending gifts. I mean it. Make him stop.” If this kept up, she was going to have a nervous breakdown long before Cole ever went bankrupt.


    Even Myles had to admit—this wasn’t romantic. It was madness. He gave her a respectful nod. “Understood. I’ll tell him exactly that.”


    Elliana waved him off, the motion weary and dismissive. Right now, just looking at Myles was an irritating reminder of Cole. Myles turned and left without another word.


    Heather, still rattled by the avnche of gifts, suddenly snapped out of her daze and rushed after Myles. She caught up to him halfway down the hall. “Wait! How’s Hugh doing?” she asked, her voice a little too sharp with worry.


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    “Improving,” Myles replied without missing a beat. “His fever’s dropped from 107.6 to 104.”


    Heather’s jaw tightened. Improving? At that rate, he wasn’t recovering—he was roasting. Pushing the thought aside, she reached into her pocket and handed him a small packet. “Please give this to Hugh. It’s a fever reducer from Dr. Atkinson—supposed to work miracles.”


    At the mention of Milena’s name, Myles epted the medicine with sudden respect, cradling it as if it were gold. “Thank you…” He paused, realizing he didn’t know her name. “May I ask your name, miss?”


    Heather hesitated. Her real name was off-limits. She reached for the first thing that came to mind. “Just call me Mabel.”


    Mabel? The name sounded like it belonged to a spinster aunt from the 1920s. Myles inwardly mocked but didn’t let it show. His smile stayed impably polite. “Thank you, Mabel. I’ll make sure Hugh takes it.” With a courteous nod, he turned and walked away.


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