ter

he Doub

nthropist. He gave to orphanages, funded hospital wings, and sponsored entire school districts. His wealth wasn't just vast-it was loud. The city bore his name in plaques, murals, and scholarship awards. At the g

priests, and celebrities alike. There, amid the scent of leather and cedarwood, Victor was in his element discussing poli

r lay a man whose love for contr

urnalist who adored his mind. Then Flora, the fashion buyer who wore his name in whispered tones and bruises she painted over. And recently, Naya the casino pian

ve. He'd told himself that. Told the church. Told her. She was grace and steadiness, not a conquest but a home. But even

the solemn speaker at the city's memorial service, the smiling benefactor handing out food to the poor during Easter. W

elfies. The one who kept a hidden room in his penthouse, soundproof and shaded in burgundy, for "meetings" that ne

usion. And now, for the first time, one of

e about books or complain about her students. She didn't pick his tie anymore or giggle a

siness, not in love. It triggered the one th

ss his face. A storm brewed beyond the window, the wind clawing at the ranch trees. His wine sa

the way Racheal laughed really laughed when George was around. It was a kind of laughte

l that morning

into the receiver. "Not just once. Not just anywhere. A

e fury and thanked her.

oin him for dinner. She hadn't arri

Could she? Would she? Did she understand what that wou

echoed down the hallway. The fr

ut beneath his suit, the knight trembled

the beginning of a new game. One where