Nathaniel Harper lay slumped against the cold hard bench of his detention cell, fists clenched at his sides. His arrest still seared in his blood. Beyond the walls, the world watched—or rather, laughed—as Eliana Thompson flaunted her supposed triumph.He seethed.This was not finished yet.The cellblock door creaked open, and the sharp sound of high-end shoes on the concrete floor clicked behind him. Nathaniel's eyes lifted as his father, William Harper, entered, his attorney, Richard Cavanaugh, by his side.William's very presence thickened the air. The man was a power, a controller. But tonight, his blue eyes snapped with something else—revulsion.Nathaniel rose, locking eyes with his father. "Father."William didn't reply to the greeting. Instead, he sneered, shaking his head as he advanced a step. "What a sorry figure," he spat, his voice bitter and stinging. "My son—my heir—housed in a cage, while that Thompson girl struts around as if she's already conquered." Nathaniel's jaw c
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