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It was his grandfather—Grayson Moretti.

Whatever adrenaline had rushed through Lorenzo moments ago drained out instantly. His chest, tight with anticipation, collapsed into quiet disbelief.

“Grandpa?” he muttered, voice dipping low. “What are you doing here this late? You should’ve called.”

Grayson waved a dismissive hand and stepped past him with a scoff.

“Why the hell should I call before coming to my own grandson’s house?” Grayson snapped, brushing past him and stepping inside. He raised his voice, looking around like he owned the place. “And I didn’t come here foryouanyway. Where’s myprecious granddaughter-in-law? Krystal?” His voice boomed through the halls. “Krystal, Grandpa’s here to see you!”

Lorenzo shut his eyes for a second, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration before following him inside.

“She’s not here,” he finally said, his tone clipped.

Grayson stopped and turned sharply, his bushy eyebrows furrowing. “She’s not home? At this hour? Where is she?”

Lorenzo stayed quiet, jaw tightening.

“Did you fight with her again?” Grayson’s voice grew louder. “Why the hell do you keep upsetting her? She is so nice, and you still can’t treat her right!”

Lorenzo’s jaw tightened.

“You married her and now you're acting like this?” Grayson snapped, his voice shaking with anger. “She deserves to be treated better. I raised you better than this. How hard is it to take care of a little woman properly?”

Lorenzo’s hands balled into fists at his sides.

‘He keeps saying this because he thinks Krystal and I have been living like a real couple since our marriage. We’ve been married for two years. Of course he’d assume that.’

“She wanted it too,” Lorenzo said flatly. “And if you hadn’t forced me to marry her in the first pla—”

“Shut up,” Grayson barked, cutting him off with a fiery glare. “I don’t care how it started. You better apologize to her. She’s a damn angel and you’re just a spoiled brat who doesn’t know how to treat a woman. You piss me off so much!”

“Grandpa, you’re my grandfather. Not hers,” Lorenzo snapped. “How can you say that about your own blood?”

“I don’t give a damn whose blood you are. Right now, you’re acting like an idiot.” Grayson raised his cane and slammed it against Lorenzo’s leg, making him flinch. “I’ve got a retirement party at my house in a few days. I want to see Krystal there. Not a damn excuse, Lorenzo. She better be there.”

Without waiting for a response, Grayson turned and walked right out the door.

“Grandpa, wait!” Lorenzo called after him, his voice edged with frustration as he moved to follow, but Grayson didn’t even glance back. He disappeared into the night, leaving Lorenzo standing in the silence of his empty house.

***

Darren raced across the backyard toward Krystal, who was sunbathing by the pool. She lay stretched on a lounge chair, legs crossed, her white bikini gleaming under the sharp afternoon sun. A light sheen of sweat glistened on her collarbones. She had sunglasses on, a book resting on her flat stomach, and looked completely at peace—like the world didn’t exist beyond the warmth soaking into her skin.

He didn’t slow down. He snatched her shades right off her face.

“Hey!” she snapped upright, one hand flying up to shield her eyes from the glare. “I’m trying to relax—you’re ruining it!”

“You can afford to buy a whole freaking resort to relax in now!” Darren was practically vibrating with energy, grinning like a kid who’d just found a treasure chest. “We’re rich again! Look!”

He shoved his phone at her, the screen glowing with a notification.

“He already transferred the advance—one hundred million!”

Krystal blinked and took the phone from him, the sunlight forgotten for a moment. Her gaze scanned the digits on the screen. It was real. The money was there.

But instead of elation, something in her cracked. A sharp, cold pain stabbed through her chest, spreading like poison.

‘When it’s about Esther, he doesn’t hesitate to give anything.’