Chapter 103

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• The Wrong Kind Of Right   Chapter 136

  After they hung up, Reid sat very still in the dim apartment, watching the city blink back at him from beyond the windows.He stared down at the phone.His reflection shimmered faintly in the black screen, unreadable.And for the first time in days, he didn’t feel jealous.He felt powerful.He had just reassured the man he was systematically tearing down. Just earned his trust again.And yet…There was something bitter curling around the edges of his stomach.The part of him that did mean it.The part of him that still looked at Asher like he was the man who used to laugh at midnight by the barracks fire, who used to trust him with more than just missions.The man Reid had once loved, deeply, before the military, before Luca, before all the heartbreak.He finished his drink, set the glass down with a soft clink, and opened a second file folder from his drive.Inside were more.More documents. More screenshots. More chess pieces.He told himself it was still about love. That if he burn

• The Wrong Kind Of Right   Chapter 135

  “Who is it?” Luca asked, sipping his coffee.“Not sure,” Asher muttered, wiping his hands and answering on instinct. “Hello?”The voice on the other end was clipped, direct. British.“This is Maya Sullivan from the Times Global Desk. We’re reaching out for a comment on the leak regarding Wolf Guard’s security contracts in the Middle East...”Asher stiffened.“...the file was uploaded to a watchdog forum this morning. Our editors want to confirm if the allegations about falsified clearances and flawed surveillance equipment under your leadership are accurate. We’re publishing in three hours.”“What...?” Asher’s voice broke off. “No. That’s not… that’s not real.”“We’d appreciate a statement before we go live.”He hung up.Luca set his mug down slowly. “What was that?”Asher didn’t answer right away. He walked over to the dining table, grabbed his laptop, and started typing.He found it within minutes.A red banner headline:BREAKING: “Wolf Guard Security Under Fire, Internal Documents

• The Wrong Kind Of Right   Chapter 134

  Back at Reid’s apartment…He stood by his window, watching the city pulse beneath him, alive and bright. So many lives moving at once. So many stories playing out simultaneously.But all he could see was one.Asher, smiling in someone else’s bed.Asher, in love with someone else’s promises.Asher… not his.He let out a long, slow breath and whispered, “Don’t make me regret this.”But a small voice inside him already answered:You already do.He opened his inbox again, scrolling past the folder Dominic had sent. One new message blinked at the top.From an encrypted address.Subject: Phase Two.Message: Ready when you are. Let it bleed.Reid stared at it.Then deleted it.But the damage had already begun...................The sun spilled through the city like honey, slow, golden, and warm. For the first time in what felt like forever, Luca Virelli wasn’t buried in back to back meetings or staring down board members or flinching at every breaking headline with his name in it.Today, he

• The Wrong Kind Of Right   Chapter 133

  Dominic was watching him closely.“You think I don’t know what this feels like?” he asked softly. “To be the one left behind? The one who stood in the rubble while someone else got to walk away with the fairytale?”Reid looked at him then, truly looked, and saw not just a manipulator, but a man who had once tasted that same bitterness. The ache of being almost loved.“I don’t want to hurt him,” Reid repeated, though the words didn’t hold as firm as before.Dominic didn’t smirk this time. He simply walked back over and poured them both a drink.“Then don’t,” he said, handing Reid a glass. “Just help me tip the scale.”Reid didn’t drink. He held the glass between both hands and sat down at the long table.“I still dream about him,” he admitted quietly. “About when we were deployed together. The nights we talked about the future. About who we could be after the war. I thought…”Dominic tilted his head. “You thought he’d wait for you.”Reid nodded once.“I thought I’d have a chance,” he m

• The Wrong Kind Of Right   Chapter 132

  Reid reached down and picked up the photo again, the one with Asher smiling into Luca’s kiss. The same lips that used to whisper his name years ago in a humid barrack room with sand beneath their boots and hell in their eyes.Reid’s throat closed up. His hand trembled.It was supposed to be me.He stood abruptly, kicking the coffee table. The force sent the bottle of whiskey clattering to the ground, shattering into amber splinters and glass. He didn’t care. Let it burn.Let it all fucking burn.He collapsed onto the couch, rubbing both hands over his face, trying to block the memories out, but they came anyway.The barracks.That first night. That first kiss, pressed behind supply crates.The promise. “When this is all over, maybe we’ll try… for real.”But they never did.And now he was watching the man he’d loved, still loved, kiss someone else like Reid had never even happened.The phone buzzed again on the table.He ignored it.Then it buzzed again. Then again.Sighing, Reid picke

• The Wrong Kind Of Right   Chapter 131

  The knock was too soft to be urgent, too calculated to be casual.Reid Hartwell barely glanced up from the whiskey bottle in his hand. He’d spent the last hour doing absolutely nothing but scrolling through his phone, and ignoring every headline that had Luca Virelli’s name tagged beside Asher’s.He didn’t need to look. He could feel it. The storm that had hit the internet when the former CEO and his infamous security handler finally made their debut as lovers. Twitter was a battleground. Instagram was a shrine. The world loved the scandal.But Reid?Reid was suffocating in it.The knock came again. A pause. Then the faint slide of something pushed beneath his door.He set the bottle down, slowly stood, and approached. For a moment, he hesitated, then picked up the thin black envelope. His name was printed across the front in that cold, serif font. There was no return address.He opened it.Inside were photographs. Not digital. Not emailed. Physical. Thick, glossy prints that curled e