Mark walked toward his room, but Clarisse wasn’t there.

He took off his shirt and sat down at his desk. He switched on his laptop, the pale glow of the screen lighting up his face. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Files were open, unread emails stacked, but his attention kept drifting. His fingers paused over the keyboard more than once.

Nothing was getting done.

His thoughts kept circling back to Lyvana and Julian... Grant.

He typed ,Julian Grant, into the search bar. The screen flooded instantly.

News articles.

Business magazines.

Photos from the private engagement.

Then one headline caught his eye immediately.

GRANT CHAIRMAN OFFICIALLY INTRODUCES ONLY HEIR AT PRIVATE ENGAGEMENT EVENT

Mark clicked the video.

The Chairman of the Grant empire stood at the center of a massive ballroom filled with high ranking politicians, celebrities and powerful business figures.

Beside him stood Julian.

And beside Julian... stood Lyvana.

She wore a beautiful white dress, with her hand resting lightly on Julian’s arm.

The Chairman raised a glass.

"Tonight," he announced proudly, "I formally introduce my son and only heir, Julian Harrison Grant the Third... and his beautiful fiancée."

The room erupted into applause.

Mark’s jaw tightened.

More photos appeared beneath the article.

Julian looking down at Lyvana.

Lyvana smiling during the toast.

Their hands together.

The engagement ring flashing beneath the cameras.

Another photo showed him guiding her through the crowd while powerful guests surrounded them.

He scrolled further, his expression growing darker with every image.

One article described Lyvana as the future lady of the Grant empire.

Another called them the most powerful couple of the year.

Then, his eyes landed on a picture of Julian kissing her. He cursed and slammed the laptop shut harder than he intended.

The sound echoed sharply through the room.

Pushing himself away from the desk, Mark stood up. He didn’t bother putting his shirt back on. He just walked out of his room and down the quiet, dimly lit corridor, heading toward the kitchen.

The house was very quiet. Mark walked into the large kitchen. The moonlight shone on the cold counters.

​He walked over to the big refrigerator and pulled it open. He grabbed a pitcher of cold water and drank straight from it.

​"Sir?"

​He turned around to see Lori, one of the new maids, watching him from the doorway.

"Do you need something?" she asked.

​"No, I’m fine," he said dismissively.

​"Are you sure?"

​"Yes."

​Lori turned to leave, but hesitated. She had seen Clarisse entering Alex’s room earlier.

"Your brother was looking for you just now," she said.

​Mark wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and set the pitcher down.

"Where is he?"

​"He is upstairs in his room," she replied softly.

​Mark nodded once, not saying another word as the girl walked away.

He headed back toward the staircase. His mind was still a chaotic mess, but he figured talking to Alex might help him focus on the mess with the cops instead of the pictures of Lyvana.

​He walked up the stairs and reached the door to his brother’s room.

The second he touched the doorknob, the voice on the other end made his blood run cold.

"Don’t stop."

For one second, he thought he heard wrong. Then Clarisse moaned again. It was a sharp, breathless sound that Mark knew all too well.

​His face went completely cold. His hand trembled on the door handle as he pushed the door open slowly, the hinges moving without a sound.

​The sight inside shattered whatever was left of his mind.

​His brother was on top of his woman. Alex was thrusting into her like he’d completely lost his mind.

This was Clarisse, the very woman Mark had left Lyvana for.

​Alex was buried between her legs, biting her neck, panting, and making wet, filthy sounds that turned his stomach. Clarisse’s eyes were tightly shut, her head thrown back in pure ecstasy, her hands gripping Alex’s bare shoulders as she begged for more.

​They didn’t even notice the door opening. They were too lost in each other.

Mark stood frozen in the doorway. His mind went entirely blank, then flooded with a hot, blinding rage. Every single thing he had sacrificed rushed through his head. He had ruined his relationship with Lyvana, all because of her.

Suddenly, Alex shifted, his dark eyes opening as he threw his head back to breathe. Through the bedroom light, his gaze drifted toward the doorway.

Then he froze.

Feeling the sudden halt in his movements, Clarisse slowly opened her heavy eyes, whimpering at the loss of friction. She looked over her shoulder, following Alex’s terrified stare straight to the door.

The color drained from her face instantly.

"M-Mark..." she gasped, her voice trembling as she frantically tried to pull the tangled bedsheets over her exposed body.

Alex scrambled backward, his hands raised defensively.

"Mark, wait. It’s not what you think!"

But Mark wasn’t listening. The sheer hypocrisy of the words snapped the final thread of his control.

Something inside him snapped, his vision blurred with anger. The next thing he knew, his fist connected with Alex’s jaw. The impact sent Alex sprawling onto the floor.

Clarisse screamed.

Alex barely managed to get back to his feet before Mark was on him again.

He tried to block the blows, but Mark kept swinging.

"Mark, stop! Please!" Clarisse sobbed.

Another punch slammed into Alex’s cheek.

He staggered backward and crashed into the dresser, knocking over a lamp. It hit the floor with a loud crash.

Before he could recover, Mark grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall.

"How long?" Mark roared.

Alex winced but said nothing.

Mark shook him violently. "How long?"

Alex squeezed his eyes shut. "Mark..."

Mark slammed him against the wall again. The picture frame behind Alex crashed to the floor.

Clarisse was crying openly now.

"Mark, please stop!"

Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded in the hallway.

"What’s going on in there?" Susan’s voice came from outside.

A second later, she appeared in the doorway.

Her eyes immediately landed on Alex’s bleeding face. Then on Clarisse sitting on the bed, wrapped in a sheet.

The color drained from her face.

"Oh my God."