That night, the city streets were still crowded with passing vehicles. Gevan drove his car with a tense expression. His hands gripped the steering wheel too tightly, his knuckles turning white.

His thoughts were still in chaos.

Hellena’s face on the stage, her cold gaze, and then that confession—Sheena. Everything felt impossible, yet the evidence shown before his eyes was far too real to deny.

“How could this be…” he muttered softly. “You changed that much.”

He reached for his phone and immediately dialed his assistant.

“Hello, sir,” a voice answered on the other end.

“Within thirty minutes, I want the address of Hellena Catrine’s apartment,” Gevan said bluntly.

His...