Stefan didn't give a damn about his sprawling, privileged family—his father, cousins, nephews, nieces, or siblings. To him, they were nothing but parasites, and he had no interest in their existence. The only things that mattered were that 100-million-dollar fortune and his wife. That was his truth. Maybe if one slipped away, he'd spare a moment to care, but only just.

But don't be fooled. Stefan's a liar, through and through.

His 'dear daddy' had summoned the entire family to his opulent mansion, a palace of gold and polished marble, to discuss his will—because nothing gets a family's attention like the promise of inheritance. Everyone was there, drooling over what could be theirs. And if there was one thing Stefan would ensure, it was that the empire would be his—forever.

'You think I want to do this, baby?' His voice carried a dangerous calm as he spoke to his wife who had every right to be furious. She'd heard the whispers, seen the blood. His brother, his niece... their deaths weren't accidents, and she knew it. They'd been obstacles standing between him and what he deserved. He simply did what needed to be done.

'You want a family, don't you? You want kids? Well, we need money for that, don't we?' He set his glass of whiskey down with a soft clink, rising from his chair. The wood creaked beneath his weight, groaning like a silent witness to what was about to unfold.

From his waistband, he pulled out a gun—cold steel, as black as his intentions. Slowly, deliberately, he began to stalk toward her. His eyes locked on her with chilling intensity.

'You're not going to stand in my way, are you?' he whispered, his voice like silk over a blade. He stopped just a few feet from her, the distance between them thick with menace.

'I love you, darling. I really do...' His words dripped with false tenderness as he paused, sighing as if this was some unbearable moral dilemma. 'But...' Another pause, another step closer, his presence suffocating the air between them.

'I won't hesitate to paint these walls red with your blood if you so much as think about getting in my way.' His hand lashed out, gripping her arm tight enough to leave bruises, yanking her forward until her chest slammed against his. The gun was suddenly beneath her chin, the cold barrel tipping her head upward, forcing their eyes to meet. His gaze bore into hers, daring her, testing her limits. His smile was the calm before the storm. 'Do you understand me, baby?'