“Sir, the report you requested is ready.”

A man dressed in black placed a thick folder on Devandra’s desk. Inside were neatly arranged photos of Arga and Vania — attending social events, dining together, walking side by side through a garden.

Devandra stared at the pictures for a long time, his finger tracing the outline of Vania’s smile.

“She’s smiling,” he murmured, voice low and unreadable. “She never smiled like that with me.”

His aide said nothing, simply standing by, awaiting orders.

Devandra straightened, eyes hard. “We start now,” he said firmly. “Destroy Arga’s company — slowly. Cut off his projects one by one. I want him to feel what...