Jonathans Fury

It started with laughter.

Not the kind that warms a room or settles the nerves. This laughter was faint, distant, muffled behind expensive walls and hidden doors. Mia Harper paused in the hallway of her fiancé’s penthouse, her heels silent against the imported marble, a chilled bottle of champagne in her hand. She had just closed the biggest legal deal of her career, and tonight was supposed to be a celebration—a step toward the life they had planned.

But that laugh…

It was familiar. Too familiar.

She moved quietly toward the study door—half open. The smell of cedar and cigar smoke reached her first. Then came the voices.

“…She actually thought you loved her. That’s the best part.”

Mia froze.

The voice was feminine, sultry. Sharper than she remembered, but unmistakable.

Elena.

Her best friend.

Her maid of honor.

Another voice answered, amused and smug. Male. Cold.

“You don’t need to worry about her anymore. After tomorrow, she’ll be indicted, not invited.”

That one belonged to Daniel Ward—her fiancé. A rising political star, charismatic and calculated. The man who said he’d protect her. Love her. Build a future.

Mia’s breath left her body like a punctured balloon. The champagne slipped from her fingers and shattered on the tile, the crack louder than a gunshot.

The laughter stopped.

Footsteps approached.

Panic surged. Her mind screamed: Run. But her body refused. She stood there, paralyzed in the hall as Daniel appeared in the doorway, tie loose, hair tousled from Elena’s touch. His expression didn’t shift—no surprise, no shame. Just a flicker of annoyance.

“Mia,” he said smoothly, as if nothing was wrong. “You’re home early.”

Behind him, Elena emerged with a glass of scotch in her hand, silk robe barely tied. She smirked. “Surprise.”

Mia looked between them, her hands trembling. “What… what is this?”

Daniel sighed, walking past her to the broken glass. “This is inconvenient. We weren’t finished.”