Cleopatra had returned to her mansion, one of the many owned by her family, yet for someone who had nearly lost her life, she appeared unnervingly calm.
Such composure wasn't normal, but it revealed the kind of woman she truly was.
Three men stood before her. Not just any men—supermodel-tier men, their chiseled physiques bare for her viewing. They were stark naked, and Cleopatra regarded them with nothing more than a glass of wine in hand.
To her, they were no more than an exhibition, beautiful ornaments on display. They would never be granted the honor of touching her.
Her thoughts, however, were elsewhere.
If Kyle could make such bold moves, then what of Marcello? He was a man with the power to unite people, but his rise had been marred by betrayal and blood. Because of that, there would always be those within his own ranks who despised him.
Who could resist the temptation of power? Cleopatra was no fool. She knew exactly what had to be done.
