Underneath the Billionaire's Crimson Veil

ern port. Heat shimmered off the pavement, and his shirt clung to his back with sweat. The air was thick with sal

yet, the weight on his shoulders had noth

st enough to grab water before heading home. His father had been quiet lately, his medication running low

ed to leave, th

ome home.

those three words. But it was

his bag and

-

rket, where laundry danced in the wind and gossip spilled like tea from open balco

courtyard, hands clasped

-colored. Edged in g

he asked, his

r voice almost a whisper. "They handed it

he letter already opened, a crease between

said, handin

ly with rose and something else-oud, maybe. H

mily of Ahm

iled by grief and wealth, ha

ty rare in men: humility

ask for his ha

union shall be ar

y is ex

his c

p slowly. "Is

lace brought it," his father replied. "I

is

epping closer. "Only that she is a wi

ight of the letter pre

even show her face? What kind of wo

his looks, or asked for his background. They spoke of th

nown. But someone, somewher

is a trap?"

rtunities do not come dressed in certainty

e always been the kind of man who wai

ure. There was none. Just a sea

inside told him his life would never be the same after this night.

letter with

hem I a

changed a glan

, a woman removed her veil and placed the twin le

d sai