---- Chapter 8 Hamilton Glass POV: "Mr. Warner also wishes you to know," the man in the black suit had said, his voice a blade of ice in the sudden, suffocating silence of my wedding, "that the Verratti family has been... liquidated. Their assets have been seized. Their leadership is in federal custody. Anyone who had a hand in harming his daughter is being dealt with. He suggests you consider your own position very carefully." He and his men then turned and walked away, leaving a chasm of terror in their wake. The media was swiftly and efficiently escorted out. The guests, sensing the shift from celebration to something far more sinister, began to melt away, their whispers like the rustling of dry leaves. | fell to my knees, my hand plunging into the box. My fingers closed around the lock of Anya' s hair. It was so soft. Real. | brought it to my nose, and the faint scent of her shampoo, a simple chamomile blend she' d used for years, filled my senses. It was like a ghost punching me in the gut. She was his daughter. Fred Warner' s long-lost, mythical heir. The greatest, most reclusive genius of the modern tech era was her father. And |... | had handed her over to my enemies. ---- | had used her, betrayed her, and thrown her away like trash. The irony was so bitter, it choked me. | had been so afraid of her past staining my future, when in reality, her past was a legacy so monumental it dwarfed my entire existence. | finally understood. My grandfather hadn't just nudged me towards Kacey. He had engineered this entire nightmare. He knew Anya was a liability, not because of her phantom criminal record, but because her love for me made me deviate from the path he had set for me. He saw her as a weakness, an emotional attachment that couldn't be controlled or monetized. So he had orchestrated her removal. The Verrattis, Kacey, the convenient media scandals-it was all his design. He had never intended for me to bring Anya back. He had intended for her to disappear. | had been his pawn. And in playing his game, | had personally delivered the woman | loved into the jaws of hell. A guttural roar of pure, unadulterated agony ripped from my throat. "What did you do?" | screamed, stumbling to my feet and lunging toward my grandfather. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?" My security team grabbed me, holding me back as | thrashed like a caged animal. "You promised me!" | raged, my voice raw. "You promised me she would be safe! You promised!" My grandfather remained seated, his face a mask of stone, but his trembling hands betrayed his terror. "I kept my promise," ---- he said, his voice cold and brittle. "l delivered her to the Verrattis, just as you asked. What they did with her after that is not my concern. Her life, or her death, is of no consequence tome." "She's not just 'her'!" | bellowed, the sound inhuman. "She's Anya! She was carrying my child! She was everything!" The struggle was useless. They were stronger than my grief, stronger than my rage. My grandfather looked at me, a flicker of something that might have been pity, but was more likely contempt, in his cold eyes. "You were the one who signed her away, Hamilton. You were the one who couldn't stand the thought of a tarnished woman by your side. You chose the clean slate, the perfect bride. You have no right to protect her anymore. You gave that up the moment you put another woman's ring on your finger." His words were poison-tipped arrows, each one finding its mark in my shattered heart. He was right. | had done this. My insecurity, my ambition, my weakness-I had forged the cage, and my grandfather had simply locked the door. The fight went out of me. My body went limp, and my guards half-carried, half-dragged me away from the scene. The last thing | saw was Kacey, standing by the ruined wedding cake, her face pale with confusion and fear. Our perfect wedding. Our bright future. It was all a lie, built on a foundation of cruelty and deceit, and the entire structure had just come ---- crashing down. They took me inside, to my old bedroom. | collapsed onto the bed, the world dissolving into a blur of pain and regret. | had lost her. Not just her love, but her. Her light, her genius, her fire. | had extinguished it myself, all for a hollow crown and a plastic throne. The wedding, the merger, the empire-it was all worthless without her. The full weight of what | had done, of what | had lost, crashed down on me. | curled into a ball, clutching the lock of her hair, and for the first time since | was a child, | wept. | wept for her, for our baby, and for the man | might have been if | hadn't been such a goddamned coward.