Damien’s embrace was Grace’s only safe harbor in the world.
The daggers that once could have easily pierced her now seemed distant and vague, buffered by his solid chest.
But distant didn't mean nonexistent.
In the dead of night, those old wounds would still ache.
Grace’s birthday was approaching.
For the Hart family, however, their world was about to collapse.
Their stock price was in a freefall, and the bank’s calls for debt collection were blowing up Mr. Hart’s phone.
Cassian had locked himself in his study for days, not sleeping, but he still couldn’t think of any way to turn things around.
Dorian used all of his connections, only to receive the same startlingly consistent reply: “Sorry, but we don’t dare get involved with the Hart family’s business.”
They didn’t dare.
Because this was what Damien wanted.
Finally, after being hounded by a bank manager in a near-humiliating tone once more, Mr. Hart slammed his teacup on the floor.
“Go find Grace!”
His eyes were bloodshot, like a gambler who had lost everything.
“She’s a Hart! She has to take care of us!”
Cassian frowned. “Dad, Grace… she won’t see us.”
“She won’t?” Mr. Hart sneered, his face twisted with the madness of someone with nothing left to lose. “Then we’ll make a scene until she does!”
“I’d like to see if the CEO of Graceline Technologies, the future lady of the Clarke family, can really afford to lose face!”
Lucian stood up without a word, a sinister glint in his eyes.
“Dad’s right.”
“She thinks she can cut ties with us? It’s not that easy!”
The Graceline Technologies building stood in the most prosperous business district of Jarrow City.

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