?Chapter 1211:


    He couldn’t afford to step further into the Briggs family’s power struggles. His interference had already drawn suspicion, and if Howe learned of this facility, its existence—and everything inside—would be destroyed.


    Across the city, the lights of a high-rise penthouse glittered faintly against the night.


    Marc stood by the window, a phone pressed to his ear, listening as Howe’s furious voice spilled through the line—recounting how Lance had taken away those projects.


    Marc listened without interrupting, a mysterious smile ying at the corner of his lips.


    …


    The military getting involved had caught Marc off guard, but he quickly realized it yed right into his hands. With Briggs Group’s core technology now locked behind military security, Howe had no choice but to lean harder on everything else Marc was providing.


    Marc had half-expected Howe to stab him in the back the moment he got what he needed—or whenever it served his interests. Instead, Howe proved surprisingly willing to y along.


    Marc kept his voice steady, reassuring. “As long as William stays gone, losing those projects doesn’t really matter.”


    There was no way Briggs Group could survive William’s continued absence. It was only a matter of time. Marc could already taste the satisfaction of watching that empire crumble into dust.


    He ended the call and let his gaze drift toward the hospital room where Stey unconscious. The doctors had assured him she wasn’t in any immediate danger.


    She looked so peaceful lying there—more peaceful than he’d seen her in months. The stillness felt almost unreal.


    A calcting gleam sparked in his eyes as he murmured to himself, “Let everything burn. The bigger the fire, the better. That’s when I’ll walk through the ashes and take exactly what I want.”


    Over the following days, Ste spent long stretches alone in the apartment, her thoughts circling back again and again to the photo of William she’d found online.


    One afternoon, she sat on the sofa, trying to slow her racing heart, when the air suddenly felt too thick to breathe.


    Every chapter lives on g a lno vels ;m


    Then everything went ck.


    Dreams came in fragments—hands sping hers tightly, the weight of a diamond ring on her finger. Before she could piece the images together, new scenes flooded in.


    A rooftop beneath an endless, starlit sky, the brightest constetions zing overhead. A figure stood beside her—she couldn’t make out his face, but his eyes held hers as he spoke about fate, about how they were connected like stars bound together across the universe.


    She didn’t recognize the man in her dreams.


    But she knew with absolute certainty—it wasn’t Marc.


    She drifted through darkness for what felt like hours—maybe days. Time had no meaning there.


    .


    .


    .