At nine that night, I disabled the Shaw estate's security system while Brandon extracted Brian during the chaos.

The Shaw family elders were livid, threatening to disinherit both brothers for their betrayal.


I infiltrated their systems and planted data packages on the computers of key Shaw family executives.

The packages contained years of financial records documenting the Shaw Group's shady dealings and tax evasion—evidence that implicated several family elders directly.

This leverage protected Brandon from their retribution.


Brandon secured top medical care for Brian, but the damage was severe—even after recovery, he walked with a permanent limp.

Lying in his hospital bed, face pale, he forced a smile when I visited: "Like this... am I even less worthy of you now, Anna?"


I didn't answer, my heart aching as I handed him a peeled apple.

As he took it, his fingertips deliberately brushed against mine—a cautious, tentative touch.

After everything, Brian became more subdued, but his gaze still followed me with the same obsessive adoration.

I tried to distance myself, but he was persistent as a shadow.

He constantly asked when I would visit again.

Finally, I established a rule: he could call me once a week, on Fridays.

No contact was permitted at any other time.

During this time, my studio launched the "Phoenix Data Protection System," which quickly dominated the market and multiplied our company's value.

The system also helped Brandon repel several cyberattacks from the family elders, cementing his position as head of the Shaw family.

But he still refused to finalize our divorce.

Unlike his earlier awkward gifts of eye drops and pastries, he began offering more practical "cooperation."

He directed lucrative Shaw Group projects to my studio and used his connections to clear obstacles whenever my business faced challenges.

A delicate equilibrium formed between me and the Shaw brothers—until that fateful cocktail party.