Clementine Stephens stepped into the living room of the Lopez family mansion, squinting against the blinding glow of the crystal chandelier. Her father, hunched and tight with tension, was already bowing and scraping, apologizing nonstop to Benjamin Lopez, the head of the family. Samara Woods, the picture of meek grace, poured coffee with quiet, practiced efficiency.

To Clementine’s surprise, Mckenna Lopez was there too. The whole room hummed with loaded tension, and instead of his usual warm greeting, Mckenna only gave her one loaded, knowing look.

Clementine had barely sunk into her seat when her father’s voice boomed out: "Stephens Real Estate is on its last legs. The Lopez family taking you in is the biggest favor anyone’s ever done you. What the hell do you have to be unhappy about?"

"Please, Mr. Stephens, calm down," Samara cut in softly, setting a delicate porcelain coffee cup down on the table before smoothing a hand over her still-flat belly. "This whole mess is my fault. But sister-in-law, after your brother passed, I’m here carrying his Lopez baby with no one to turn to. Leonidas only treated me kindly out of respect for his late brother. I hope you can understand. If I’ve caused any misunderstanding or trouble, I’ll tell him to keep his distance from me, I swear!"

Her soft voice was thick with grief for the dead and the lonely burden she carried now—enough to tug at anyone’s heartstrings.

Benjamin Lopez snorted angrily. "Why are you even wasting breath explaining yourself to her? She’s just a jealous brat throwing a fit."

Clementine’s brow furrowed. Playing soft against hostility, huh? Hiding behind the victim card to get what she wanted? Next to Samara’s polished, innocent act, Clementine looked irrational, aggressive—like the actual troublemaker. Bullying a pregnant woman? How unforgivable. She’d underestimated this seemingly gentle sister-in-law; with just a few lines, Samara had neatly boxed her into a corner.

Between Samara’s doe-eyed compliance and her father’s growing rage, he ended up shouting right in her face: "You are going to issue a public apology. If you so much as scratch the Lopez family name, you’ll regret the day you were born!"

Clementine scoffed. "Scared of tarnishing the Lopez reputation, or scared you won’t get to squeeze the last few pennies out of them for yourself?"

"You..." Her father shot to his feet, stepping toward her with a hand raised to strike.

But Clementine didn’t so much as flinch. She held her head high, defiant to the bone.

When she was seven, her mother died after a years-long battle with illness. That very same night, her father dragged his new wife and their five-year-old daughter through the front door. Whenever her stepmother punished her, her father always conveniently vanished.

Now this man was shamelessly using her to line his own pockets. If she hadn’t been stupidly head over heels for Leonidas back then, how would he ever have weaseled his way into leeching off the Lopez family in the first place?

But the blow she braced for never came. The raised hand was caught mid-air by another set of long, slender fingers.

Mckenna’s jaw was set, his expression sharp. "Mr. Stephens. If my uncle finds out you laid a hand on his wife, do you think he’ll cut off Stephens Construction’s supply chain first, or freeze your funding?"

Every word Mckenna spoke hit Stephens Industries right where it hurt, and her father’s face drained of all color, turning ashen.

He didn’t think Leonidas would act this recklessly just for Clementine, but her title as Mrs. Lopez still carried weight. Hitting her would absolutely drag the Lopez name through the mud.

For Clementine, Mckenna’s intervention was just a bitter reminder of how naive she’d once been. Caring? What a damn joke.

But since he’d stepped in, she couldn’t very well contradict him. She pinned her father with a cold glare. "Count yourself lucky you didn’t swing. If you had, we’d all be eating the consequences of that."

Frustration boiled over, and she’d completely lost patience for these people’s games.

Before her father could snap back, Benjamin Lopez slammed his cane against the floor, his eyes blazing. "You little brat! Are you threatening me?"

---

Meanwhile, in the dim, stale air of an abandoned factory on the outskirts of Northport, Leonidas Lopez crushed another finger of the man crumpled at his feet. Beads of blood clung to his eyelashes like red, glinting frost.

The man went limp in his own pool of blood, gasping out: "After Mr. Lopez died... the trail went cold... I swear I’m not lying to you..."

Leonidas lifted his foot off the man’s chest and waved a dismissive hand, signaling for them to drag the body out. The killer who’d murdered his brother was still hiding somewhere in Northport. Fearful of leaks, every operative had all their electronics confiscated, but the mastermind still hadn’t shown their face.

Uriel Scott stepped forward, holding out a freshly activated phone. "Mr. Lopez, there’s a situation developing back in the city. A party video leaked, and now rumors are spreading that you and Mrs. Lopez are getting divorced..."

Leonidas was wiping blood off his forehead with a heated towel, and his grip tightened the second the words left Uriel’s mouth. The cold blue glow of the phone screen reflected off his sharp jawline, carving it into something even more merciless than usual...

---

Back in the Lopez mansion living room.

"It’s all a misunderstanding, in-law! This girl’s just reckless, she’s lost her mind. Let me take her home and discipline her properly..." Her father’s forehead glistened with cold sweat.

"You’re overreacting. I still have the decency to respect my elders," Clementine replied coolly. "You’re right, I have caused trouble for the Lopez family. That part is my fault."

Benjamin and Samara both eyed her suspiciously, thrown off by her sudden willingness to comply. Her father, for his part, breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

But then Clementine’s eyes slitted slyly, and she spoke slow, every word deliberate, a sharp little curl tugging at her lips: "I’ll announce our divorce publicly. That’ll kill the rumors and fix the Lopez family’s honor right up."

"Leonidas and my dear sister can be together out in the open, no more hiding."

"And I’ll take the fall for losing my husband. Perfect, isn’t it?"

Turning retreat into advance? She could play that game just as well as anyone.

Bring it all out into the open. Let the storm hit harder than ever.

Mckenna couldn’t hold back a low chuckle. "That’s quite... an elegant solution."

"Sister-in-law, Leonidas and I only care for each other as family. You really don’t have to go this far," Samara sighed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her voice thick with pathetic sorrow.

Clementine wasn’t blind, and she wasn’t stupid enough to buy that it was just familial affection.

Not willing to waste another breath on these toxic leeches, she pulled her phone out of her bag and opened Twitter.

"Sister-in-law, if you really want to leave Leonidas, that’s your choice, but he cares more about his reputation than anything. He’d never want his marriage dragged through the public eye," Samara pressed, pretending she was just warning Clementine not to anger her husband.

But Clementine didn’t even look up. Her fingers flew across the screen, fast and steady.

Did they really think she was still scared? Once, her love for him and her desperate desire to keep the Lopez family happy had made her put him first, above everything else.

But now? She didn’t want Leonidas anymore. Why the hell would she care what happened to his precious reputation?

Suddenly, Benjamin was seized by a rough coughing fit, clutching at his chest.

Mckenna patted his back gently, the picture of concerned grandson. "Easy, grandpa. Your blood pressure can’t handle this stress."

"Stop her!" Benjamin’s shaky, frail hand clamped down on his grandson’s sleeve, his sharp eyes locked dead on Clementine’s phone screen.

Mckenna’s eyes glinted behind his glasses. "Grandpa, if uncle and aunt really can’t make this work, divorce might be for the best. A forced marriage never makes anyone happy. Better to split than stay miserable."

"Now is not the time... cough... for a divorce," Benjamin gasped.

He never cared much for Clementine anyway—he’d much rather Leonidas take care of Samara. But a divorce right now would only confirm the scandal was true.

Samara would be publicly shamed, and the Lopez family would take the hit.

Her father lunged toward Clementine too.

A divorce would ruin the entire Stephens family!

But Clementine dodged him easily, nimble on her feet.

The cold glow of the phone screen reflected off her determined, unyielding eyes.

"Let true love be fulfilled. We part ways, never to meet again."

Her finger hovered over the send button, and she savored the sharp, sweet burst of satisfaction for just one second.

Right as she was about to hit post and send the announcement live, a black leather glove flew through the air, cracking against her phone with a sharp snap.

"Which blind son of a bitch dares—"

The word died in her throat the second her eyes locked with Leonidas’s icy, furious gaze.

The room hung thick with silence. Even Benjamin Lopez’s cough faded slow into nothing. Clementine’s father seized the split second, forcing a tight smile to his face. "Leon, Clementine’s behavior was out of line. I’ll make sure she learns her lesson. Please don’t hold it against her."

Leonidas Lopez stepped right past him, bent to yank his phone off the floor, and tapped "delete" with his bare fingers. The motion pulled the fabric of his black coat tight, showing off every rise and fall of his chest. When the last word was gone, he lifted his gaze. "As Clementine’s husband, it’s my job to handle her. Not yours."

The discomfort rolling off Clementine’s father was impossible to miss.

"Bravo. Fucking bravo," Clementine clapped, all sharp sarcasm. "I’d get called the drama queen, but Leon? You’re the real lead in this show. I’ve been on my knees begging for you to cut the crap, and you still keep up this whole devoted husband act."

Leon brushed her off completely. His sharp, piercing gaze swept every person in the room. "As long as I’m breathing, Clementine’s still Mrs. Lopez. So much as touch her, and blood relation won’t save any of you."

"That whole family loyalty act is very pretty to look at," Mckenna Lopez chuckled soft, her fingers brushing the rim of her coffee cup. "But let’s be real. A rose grown in a storm versus one that’s been babied in a greenhouse? The difference couldn’t be more obvious."

At the words "greenhouse rose," Samara Woods dipped her lashes. The coffee in her porcelain cup rippled, just barely. Leon’s icy stare locked straight onto Mckenna’s warm smile.

"Don’t get involved," he said. His lips barely moved when he spoke.

The whole room felt like a battlefield. And the people here? They were supposed to be family.

After that, Leon curled his hand around Clementine’s and headed for the door.

Security blocked their path. Benjamin Lopez’s raspy voice boomed from behind them: "You can leave. But she doesn’t go until she clears her name."

Clementine smirked. "Sure thing. I’ll just announce our divorce right here and—"

A sharp, heavy thud shook the floor as Benjamin’s cane cracked down against it. The coffee cups on the table rattled. "You came from a small family. You’d never understand what’s expected of people in a clan like ours."

Leon’s eyes darkened to black. But Clementine cut him off before he could say a word. "You got me all wrong. I’ve got nothing left to lose. I’ll burn this whole thing down without a second thought. You can pressure Leon to divorce me all you want, but if you push me? I’ll make the entire Lopez family’s life a living hell."

Her words sliced deep, a clear line in the sand between her and her own family. Before she could say another, Leon’s hand snapped over her mouth, cutting her off mid-sentence.

His palm was wide and firm, swallowing any sound she could make.

"I’ll handle the online rumors," he said flatly. Then he hauled Clementine over his shoulder and marched straight out. His presence alone was enough to make a whole room full of bodyguards step back. No one dared step in his way.

Benjamin coughed so hard he nearly choked on his own breath.

Mckenna watched Leon leave in silence. The light from the chandelier glinted off her glasses, bright and sharp.

By the time they reached the end of the hallway, a woman’s muffled groan curled through the air.

Benjamin’s worried voice followed right after: "Samara… what’s wrong?"

Clementine craned her neck to look. Samara was curled over, clutching her stomach like it was tearing her apart.

"Hey, isn’t that your precious girl… oh, sorry, your future sister-in-law? What a convenient little stomach ache, right? Aren’t you gonna run over and play knight in shining armor? Gotta protect that precious Lopez heirloom, don’t you?" Clementine tugged playfully at Leon’s hair, a wicked little grin playing on her lips.

Leon’s stride faltered.

Clementine’s face lit up with the mocking surprise she’d been waiting for.

But all he did was pause. A single beat. Then he kept walking right out the door.

"Leon, remember. That baby inside Samara is your brother’s only legacy," Benjamin’s words hit Leon like a punch to the chest. He stopped cold, then set Clementine gently down on her feet.

"The driver will take you home."

Clementine refused. She said she’d ride with Mckenna instead.

The parking lot stretched all the way to the villa entrance. Under the glow of the porch lights, Leon came hurrying out with Samara in his arms, his steps rushed and unsteady.

Mckenna sighed. "I’ve heard the gossip going around lately. The night of the accident, it was supposed to be Leon at the banquet. Last minute they swapped, and his brother went instead. Leon blames himself for his death."

Clementine’s eyes narrowed just a little. It all clicked now. The real target had been Leon all along. And his brother paid the price.

Seeing how pale Clementine had gone, Mckenna asked soft, "Do you regret it?"

Clementine watched Leon’s car speed away from the estate, and shook her head slow.

The brothers had been close. And as long as Samara carried that baby, she’d always come first. After all… how can any person alive ever compete with someone who’s gone?

Logically, she understood where Leon was coming from.

Emotionally, though? She was relieved to walk away.

...

It was 2 a.m. Emerald Bay was swallowed up by dead silence.

Leon carried his suitcase down the hall, and paused when he reached the master bedroom. After a second of hesitation, he turned the handle and pushed the door open.

Moonlight spilled over the empty sheets. The familiar shape of Clementine under the covers was gone.

He flipped on the light. Her favorite heavy window curtains were gone. The whole decor of the room had been swapped out.

He’d never spent much time in this room, to begin with. But her presence in the house had become something he just… expected. Now every last trace of her was gone. It was like no woman had ever lived here at all.

Except for the divorce papers spread on the bedside table, and the discarded wedding photo propped against the wall.

Back when it was taken, they’d both been smiling. Now a thick crack split the glass right down the middle.

Uriel Scott stepped in to drop off Leon’s files, and caught Leon’s face. He looked like a lion, hollowed out and broken after losing his pride.

Not wanting to push him further, Uriel approached cautious. "Mrs. Lopez moved out two days ago. All her jewelry got sent off to auction. The staff tried calling, but her phone’s been off this whole time."

A red hot rage surged through Leon as he stared at the empty room. All his composure shattered.

He didn’t care that it was two in the morning. Didn’t care if Clementine was asleep. He dialed her number straight away.

He expected her to ignore him a few times, like she always did before.

But she picked up on the first ring.

"Cut the crap. Just come home," he growled into the phone, already blaming her for blowing everything out of proportion.

In the hush of the night, Clementine’s voice stayed steady as stone. "It’s over now. Take good care of Samara… Uncle Leon."

Leon’s hand trembled, just barely, around the phone.

That name…

When they first met, she’d called him that all the time. Until one day in eighth grade, she’d stood firm right in his doorway, planted her feet and yelled—

"I’m never calling you ‘Uncle Leon’ again. Remember that, Leonidas Lopez!"

The call ended with Clementine’s final soft line: "Stay safe from now on."

Leonidas couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different with her this time. When he tried calling her right back, her phone went straight to voicemail—powered off. He lit a cigarette, smoke curling slow around his jaw, and calmly ordered Uriel to reset the room to how it was before, and buy back every piece of jewelry Clementine had sold.

Uriel nodded and took down every instruction, though confusion niggled at him. Mr. Lopez clearly cared deeply about his wife, always jumping to fulfill whatever she asked for… yet he almost always came off as cold and distant. Still, he was a professional assistant. He shoved his curiosity down fast. "Shall we head out to pick up Mrs. Lopez?"

"Let her have her space for now," Leonidas replied. Things had spun too far out of control lately, gotten way too heated.

After hanging up, Clementine lay awake in bed, her mind stuck on one looping, sickening thought: someone was out to hurt Leonidas. She tossed and turned for thirty minutes before finally throwing the covers off and sitting up, frustrated out of her mind. "C’mon. Leonidas has connections everywhere. He’s already thought through every risk. Worrying isn’t going to fix a damn thing."

But sleep wouldn’t come, no matter how hard she tried. So she flipped open her laptop. The day she moved out of the townhouse, she’d sent out her resume. Shockingly, she’d gotten a reply this fast. She’d landed an interview—and the earliest opening they had was today.

The research institute under Aeronautics West wasn’t the top in the region, but it had a solid, respected reputation. At 10 a.m., fresh off a sleepless night, Clementine sat sharp and alert in front of the interview panel. After introducing herself, she leaned back and waited for their questions.

The three of them murmured quietly over her resume, then a female interviewer spoke up: "Even with the two-year gap in your work history, in our line of work, we care far more about expertise and raw skill. Your university record is outstanding, and the awards you’ve won are internationally recognized…"

A small, easy smile tugged at Clementine’s lips. She’d always known her skills weren’t the problem. Then the interviewer’s tone shifted: "Unfortunately, we can’t offer you the position at this time."

"Why not?" Clementine asked, her smile fading fast.

The interviewer’s gaze flickered away. She only said vaguely that the role had already been filled, and refused to say anything more. Clementine stood up and left. One rejection could be bad luck. But getting turned down by three different companies in two days? That wasn’t a coincidence. That was intentional.

By the third attempt, she didn’t even make it past the receptionist desk— the front desk girl tried to shoo her away before she even got to meet the hiring team. In such a niche industry, there were barely any other options beyond these three firms.

"I deserve a real explanation," Clementine said, her voice calm but unyielding. "Otherwise I’ll file a formal complaint. And even if I don’t win, I’ll drag your reputation through the mud so bad no one will dare work with you ever again."

The young receptionist, fresh out of college, went pale. She hesitated, then blurted: "Don’t make this harder on me, Ms. Stephens. From what I heard, the higher-ups loved you. Maybe you should stop and think… who did you cross lately?"

Clementine left, her mind spinning. The receptionist was probably right. But she’d rubbed a lot of people the wrong way recently: Samara, Benjamin Lopez, Leonidas.

In the end, the only person with enough power to pull strings like this was Leonidas. No one else came close.

A little after 7 p.m., Clementine hailed a cab and headed straight for the Grand Hotel. Leonidas had called her the day before, asking her to tag along to an aerospace gala that night. She’d said no. Because two days before that, Lopez Corporation’s official account had dropped a public statement clarifying everything: the chaos at the previous event was all the hotel’s fault, the CEO and his first lady were still very much in love, and everyone needed to stop spreading wild speculation.

The internet wasn’t buying it, which meant she and Leonidas had to show up together and put on a show of a happy, stable marriage. But Clementine wanted a divorce, and she wasn’t about to play her part in his little charade. Still, this gala made or broke the corporation’s next big deal. Whether she showed or not, Leonidas was going to be there.

Clementine walked into the grand ballroom in jeans and sneakers, sticking out like a sore thumb against all the silk and diamond opulence all around her. When people noticed her walk in, CEOs and socialites alike started darting glances and whispering to each other.

Just a few days ago, this woman had caused a scene at a corporate banquet, announced she was divorcing the most powerful man in the industry—it was a better show than any celebrity gossip. Clementine spotted Leonidas easily. His dark gray suit pulled tight over his broad, towering frame. Amidst all the paunchy, middle-aged executives milling around, he stood out like a majestic alpha wolf in a pack of brawling hounds.

She walked straight toward him. An executive standing next to Leonidas noticed her approach and chuckled: "Mr. Lopez gets here first, Mrs. Lopez right on his heels. Guess all those rumors online are just garbage, huh?"

"Excuse us," Leonidas nodded, then tucked Clementine’s hand through his arm and led her to a quiet nook by the floor-to-ceiling windows.

He tilted his head, looking down at her. "You calmed down now?"

She wrenched her hand out of his grip. "Leonidas, I underestimated you. You’d really pull this kind of underhanded bullshit?"

Leonidas furrowed his dark brows. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Three different companies, including Aeronautics West, all pulled my job offers out from under me. You’re gonna stand there and tell me that wasn’t you?"

The man chuckled low, and curled a firm arm around her waist to yank her close. "Want to go back to work that bad? Report to my secretary’s office tomorrow."

"Pour your coffee? I’d rather do makeup for corpses at a funeral home than that," Clementine shot back.

Leonidas didn’t even blink at the bite. He cupped the side of her neck, leaned in, and pressed his mouth to hers. A tall Corinthian column beside them hid them from the rest of the ballroom’s prying eyes.

His kiss was heated, sharp, edged with punishment. "The office has private partitions. And a leather couch," he murmured against her throat. "You can lay down while I work."

The pause after "work" hung heavy between them, loaded with implication.

Clementine bit hard into his shoulder, until she tasted copper blood on her tongue. Only then did Leonidas loosen his grip on her just a little.

"Leonidas, you’re forcing my hand here," she declared, and turned to walk away. No matter what she said, he always brushed off her feelings like she was just throwing a tantrum. But no one got to call the shots for her life.

Leonidas glanced at the small, dark bloodstain blooming on his white dress shirt, and cursed with a amused smirk. "Fucking feral, just like a dog."

But the second he looked up, his smile froze solid.

Clementine, glass of champagne in hand, was walking straight toward Raphael Garza—Leonidas’s oldest, most hated enemy—right in front of every guest in the room.