INICIAR SESIÓNSara married to Lucas. In order to support her husband, Sara is willing to live simply and work as an ordinary clerk at her family's shopping center, without receiving a penny from her family's inheritance. She became the backbone of the household, providing for Lucas and his family, believing that her love and sacrifice would be rewarded. However, those sacrifices turned into wounds when Sara learned that Lucas was having an affair with a woman who had been considered his business partner. To make matters worse, the business she had helped build became a tool for Lucas to betray her. Not wanting to be victimized any longer, Sara decided to stand up. She returned to her family and used all her resources to destroy Lucas. With her intelligence, she slowly took over the business that she had helped grow, leaving Lucas pressed and losing ground. Sara utilized her father's connections to pressure Lucas' investors to withdraw their support. She also manipulated distribution channels, making it difficult for Lucas's company to secure raw material supplies. However, Lucas is not a man to give up easily. He tried to turn things around by threatening Sara with a secret document that could destroy Sara's family's reputation. Sara is faced with a dilemma: let Lucas off the hook to protect her family, or keep bringing him down despite having to face huge consequences. At the end of the story, Sara finds a way to get rid of Lucas without destroying her family. She works with the authorities to frame Lucas, proving that he has committed tax evasion and financial manipulation in the company he manages. Lucas is eventually arrested, and his business is completely destroyed. However, before he was completely defeated, Lucas made one last threat: that he would come back and take revenge.
Ver más"How do you do, Honey?" Lucas' whisper in my ear with his hand wrapped around my stomach sounded so sensual. I really liked this man's voice especially when he whispered like this. The blood in my body heats up. A heat that makes me want to feel his warmth immediately.
However, I can't. I'm already late for work. No matter how much I wanted to curl up in a blanket with this man, I couldn't miss my work. "I'm making pancakes. This is the only breakfast I can cook today," I replied. "Hmm." He murmurs right in the crook of my neck. "Luke," I tried to avoid. "I'm late." Lucas exhales harshly. "Okay," he says. Somehow, no matter what the circumstances, Lucas never protested if something annoying involved my work. He would understandably let me get on with what I was doing. I smiled. After that, we passed breakfast quietly. At nine o'clock, I arrived at work. Natty was already at the cash register. I wasn't late, but my arrival was out of the ordinary. Normally, I would arrive at least fifteen minutes before work starts. She smiled at me. "It's okay, Sara. Don't make a face," she said. I shrugged. "Well, I need this job so much. I can't make me lose a job for coming late. I should have come earlier." Natty rolled her eyeballs. "Our boss was never even here. She or he would't notice anything except for our sales." "Well, you have the point, but that was never my point." "Whatever," she retorted. She looked annoyed, but believe me, she was the only person who made me feel comfortable to keep working here even though the risks were very high. One of them is being the target of the rich people's wrath. Ever since I was little, I've been unable to hear high voices. It wasn't because of trauma or anything like that. It's just that my parents never raised their voices in front of me even though they were very angry. Mom and Dad would be quiet or avoid me for some time, and then we would talk with a cool head. A customer returned a set of clothes she bought a month ago. She said the clothes were too small on her. We couldn't accept it because it had exceeded the deadline. Also, there was no receipt. The customer, in full consciousness, berated me in front of other customers who were shopping. I was already shaking. I was on the verge of tears. Fortunately, Natty took over. The brave woman firmly confronted her until the customer gave up and left with an expletive coming out of her mouth. "Don't be afraid of women like that, Sara. She can only take refuge behind her wealthy husband's name." Her words made me feel better. I laughed sarcastically to myself. What made me feel better? I just felt worse. That woman can use her husband's money as she pleases, while me? I have to use my own money to feed the four adults living in the house. "Sara!" Natty's shout brought me back to the present. Destroying the envy that came back after remembering her. "Yes?" Natty leaned closer, putting her lips to my ear. "The owner of this shopping center is coming to our store," she whispered. I gasped. My throat suddenly felt very dry, not knowing how to respond to the information Natty had just given me. I just stood there, frozen. Apparently, my condition surprised Natty, so she tapped me on the shoulder a little hard. "What's wrong?" "Ah....," I stammered. "No, nothing. I-I just... I was wondering who the richest person was," I continued, ending with an awkward smile. Natty shrugged. "Well, no one ever knows. They were very secretive. The only legendary rumor I know is that they have a child. Whether male or female, it's also a mystery." I cleared my throat awkwardly. The family I worked for was quite mysterious. They were very private. I knew enough, but I didn't talk much to Natty. I just listened without responding. "If it's a boy, and they're looking for a daughter-in-law, I'll do whatever it takes to get on their search radar." Natty raved incessantly about this wealthy family. "Didn't most rich people already have their own candidates?" Natty let out an exasperated breath. "That's right," she said. I laughed softly, then went back to my work; checking the clothes one by one, so that no rejected items were sold to customers. SOP that must be carried out every day. The loss was more than double if I accidentally sold a defective item, and that was the amount of my salary for six months. I shuddered at the thought of losing four months' salary, while all the expenses in my house relied on that money. We could go into debt or even starve to death if that happened. *** I staggered towards the apartment door. The elevator to my place was quite close, but it felt very far. I was exhausted. There were so many customers today, I even cut down my rest time to improve my sales record. I need to get as many bonuses as possible. There's something I have to buy, and it can't be with my salary money. Huh! When will I be able to manage so much money without worrying about my basic needs being compromised? In fact, it was very tiring. I often thought about giving up, but I loved my husband very much. I know he's also trying hard with his business. There is no instant business that can generate wealth in a short period of time. As long as we still support each other, I think I can survive. Apparently, love can drive anyone crazy. Including the most spoiled woman like me. The old me, how could I possibly do everything by myself, especially when it comes to cooking. There was mom who always did it for me. There was dad who would happily fill my savings every month without having to be asked, without me doing anything other than being the family's favorite sweet child. See me now? Besides being a waitress at a clothing store, I'm also a servant to the parents of the man I love. That's how easily love changed me. I frowned when the door wouldn't open even after entering the security pin many times. I set this pin. Using the door in front of me at all times. It's also impossible for me to forget because the security code is a combination of important dates in my life. Then, why couldn't it open? I tried to calm down. My right hand reached into the bag slung over my left shoulder, looking for a cell phone to call Lucas. Maybe I had forgotten, or something had happened while I was working. The crease on my forehead deepens when I hear the ringtone of my husband's cell phone ring, but he doesn't answer my call. Was he sleeping? I kept trying to call him. There was no answer either. I tried again and again. At the end, I called my mother-in-law. Hopefully nothing would happen. "Hello, Auntie. The password I entered is wrong. Do you change the password?" "Don't call me!" The phone just disconnected. What was going on? My in-laws have never been friendly, but never this rude. Seriously, I'm so tired right now. The only thing I wanted right now was to take a shower and sleep, not stand in front of the door of a house that couldn't be opened at all-by me, the owner. I exhaled roughly. It's exhausting. I try calling Lucas once more time. I could still hear it ringing, but again it went unanswered. What was wrong with everyone? I really feel furious now. If this keeps up, where am I going to rest? That's fine. I'll try to calm down. Inhale, then exhale. I did the breathing technique a few times. After feeling a little better, I called my husband back. I almost smiled when Lucas answered. However, the smile disappeared before it even appeared, after Lucas said something that really pierced my solar plexus. It left me speechless, so that the tiredness I'd been feeling all day seemed to vanish into thin air.The brick steps of the Michigan courthouse seemed to drop out from beneath my feet, the bright summer sun turning into a cold, blinding glare. "He's lying," I said, my voice dropping into that flat, dead porcelain register. My hand tightened around the phone until my knuckles ached. "The Munich accounts were opened in 2012. I was twenty-two years old, still in graduate school in Europe. I didn't have access to the Smith trust seals." "He doesn't need the trust seals, Sara," Helena hissed through the line, a cruel, victory-starved laugh cutting through the static. "He has the signature cards from the Zurich relocation fund you authorized in 2023. He used a digital overlay to map your handwriting onto the 2012 Munich documents. To the SEC forensic team, it looks like a continuous, multi-year conspiracy. The grand jury won't look at my voting proxies, dear. They'll look at the warrant with your name on the top." The line went dead with a sharp, electronic click. The trauma flared
The Federal District Court in St. Joseph, Michigan, didn't look like the high-rise fortresses of Chicago. It was a low, brick building surrounded by green lawns and quiet streets, sitting three blocks away from the silver expanse of the lake. By 8:30 AM, Matthias and I walked through the security scanners, our appearance a stark contrast to the small-town bureaucracy of the courthouse. My charcoal blazer was still damp at the cuffs, my hair pinned back into a tight, severe bun, but the steel in my spine was sharper than it had ever been. Matthias walked beside me, his long black coat open, the silver metal case clutched in his large hand like a weapon. We entered the chambers of Judge Harrison, a tired-looking woman who looked up from her coffee with a sharp, no-nonsense stare. "Mr. König. Ms. Smith," she said, looking at the emergency cross-injunction brief our Michigan counsel had filed twenty minutes ago. "You're a long way from the Loop. And according to the electronic alert
Matthias reached down and picked up the silver engineering case from the floorboards, setting it between us on the leather bench. The metallic surface looked dull under the low amber lights of the cockpit, its heavy combination lock catching the glare of the radar screen. "Natty didn't just store the blueprints in here, did he?" I murmured, my heart restarting its frantic, rapid rhythm as I watched Matthias dial the three-digit alignment code Natty had used for thirty years. 0-1-4. October 14th. The date of my accident. The date my father used to falsify the Zurich ledger signatures. The lock clicked open with a heavy, satisfying snap. Matthias lifted the lid, revealing the architectural layouts of the Westside fiber hub. But beneath the thick blue vellum paper sat a secondary compartment—a shallow recess lined with green jeweler's felt. Resting inside was a vintage, leather-bound notebook with the silver crest of the Smith Jewelry Archive embossed on the cover. I pulled it
The kiss wasn't a tactical alignment. It wasn't a move on the board or a hedge against a federal warrant. It was a collision of two storms that had finally found their center. Matthias’s mouth was hot, desperate, tasting of salt and bourbon, his hands tangling in my wet hair with a fierce, possessive pressure that didn't feel like a cage—it felt like an anchor. I pulled him closer, my arms wrapping around his neck, my chest pressing against his until the mechanical hum of the boat's engines was entirely swallowed by the frantic, wild rhythm of our own breathing. He shifted, his hands sliding down to my waist to lift me smoothly onto the edge of the map table, his body crowding into mine until there was no space left in the world for doubt or strategy. The scent of woodsmoke and ozone was overwhelming, a suffocating, addictive heat that wiped away three years of ice in a single, breathless second. "Sara," he growled against my lips, his jaw rough against my cheek as his mouth tr
PART 46We landed in Padang with light hearts. Not because everything was finished, but because for the first time, I could call this struggle "ours," not just "mine."Matt held my bag as we walked out of the airport. "Welcome to the real frontline," he whispered. We smiled, both knowing that plac
I woke up to a small noise coming from the kitchenette. At first, I thought Matt was just thirsty. But when I got up and opened the bedroom door, I saw him standing in the middle of the living room, lighting small candles placed on the floor, forming... the letters S and M. “Matt?” He turned ar
The press conference was held in the ballroom of a five-star hotel in the city center.A red carpet was spread out, rows of chairs were covered in white velvet, fresh flowers decorated the long table at the front of the room.Above the podium, the Smith Inc. emblem was set up large, shining majesti
That morning, the office atmosphere was heavier than usual. Like there was something in the air that made everyone move a little faster, speak a little more quietly. I walked towards my room, the employees' eyes occasionally glancing over-maybe because of the audit report that was circulating, or






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