Novels by Pretty Betty

Chapter 103The night air was thick and humid as the armored SUVs killed their lights two blocks from the Amertec Building. Lucian stepped out first, the weight of his tactical vest a familiar anchor. Don moved like a ghost beside him, signaling the team to fan out. The backup unit was already locked in position, watchful and silent.Lucian keyed his comms, voice low and ice-cold. “Alpha Team, on me. We go in hot. Lila first—everything else is secondary. Move.”They advanced through the shadows, suppressed weapons raised. Don’s men took the roof access while Lucian led the ground breach at the east loading dock. The sedative gas had already done its work on the outer perimeter; two guards lay slumped and unconscious.The moment they breached the inner corridor, chaos erupted.Gunfire exploded from the second floor. Voss’s remaining men had been waiting.“Contact!” Don shouted.Bullets ricocheted off concrete pillar

Chapter 102The final briefing ended in crisp silence.Lucian stood at the center of the war room, every muscle coiled with lethal intent. The team was fully geared black tactical clothing, suppressed weapons, night-vision goggles, and comms locked on a secure channel. The air hummed with restrained violence.He keyed his mic, voice calm and commanding. “Backup Team, move to the hideout position now. Northwest corner of the abandoned lot, two blocks from the Amertec Building. Stay dark, stay silent. Maintain visual on all exits. Do not engage unless I give the word. Be ready to provide cover fire or extraction support the second we have Lila. Watchful. Patient. Understood?”A chorus of quiet affirmatives crackled back through the earpieces. “Copy that, sir. Moving into position.”“Good. Hold until my command.”Lucian released the mic and turned to the primary assault team. Don was already checking the magazine on his rifle,

Chapter 101 The penthouse war room pulsed with controlled urgency. Lucian stood at the head of the massive table like a general preparing for the final siege, shoulders squared, eyes burning with lethal focus. The cliffhanger news that Voss’s men had moved Lila again had hit like a gut punch, but instead of unraveling him, it sharpened every edge of his obsession. His princess was bleeding, scared, and still fighting. He would not fail her.Don had returned from dealing with Holt, his expression calm but deadly. Sophia coordinated multiple screens. Ryan tracked the faint, flickering signal from the last known van. A handpicked team of twelve Lucian’s most trusted private operators mixed with Don’s military contacts filled the room, all geared in dark tactical clothing.“New location confirmed,” Ryan announced, voice tight. “The signal came back online briefly. They took her to the old Amertec Building in Hialeah an abandoned industrial complex

Chapter 100 Donovan Mathew didn’t waste time. Less than an hour after Lucian sent the revocation, Don walked into the Langford Royale Hotel suite with two federal agents in plain clothes and a signed warrant burning a hole in his pocket. Asher Holt was still sipping his scotch, smug expression frozen on his face when the door opened without knocking. “What the hell is this?” Holt demanded, rising from his chair. Don stepped forward, voice calm and cold as steel. “Asher Holt, you’re under arrest for wire fraud, tax evasion, and conspiracy to manipulate securities among other things your lawyers won’t be able to bury now that your precious contract is worthless.” Holt’s face drained of color as Don slapped the revocation notice onto the marble table right in front of him. “Your leverage just evaporated,” Don continued. “Lucian withdrew his signature. Legally. Immediately. The board has already be

Chapter 98Donovan Mathew moved like a shadow through the penthouse, finalizing the details with military precision. He had spent the last hour refining his approach to Asher Holt mapping the hotel where the hedge fund king was staying, identifying quiet entry points, and preparing a small kit of tools that didn’t leave traces. No guns. No overt threats. Just the kind of psychological pressure that broke powerful men without ever raising a hand.“Everything’s set,” Don said, slipping a slim black folder into his jacket. He looked at Lucian, eyes steady. “I’ll keep it clean. A private conversation in his suite. Remind him of the cost of crossing you right now. If he pushes, I have leverage on his last two offshore deals nothing public, but enough to make him sweat. I’ll be back before the extraction window.”Lucian nodded, gripping his friend’s shoulder once. “Bring him to heel. We can’t have the board fracturing while we pull Lila out.”Don gave a

Chapter 99Lucian stood frozen for only a heartbeat after Sophia’s revelation, his sharp mind already slicing through the chaos like a blade. The war room lights cast harsh shadows across his face as he stared at the digital copy of the old contract glowing on the main screen.Five years ago. Meridian acquisition. A single signature on a protective clause.His signature.But Lucian Kane had never been careless with power. Not really.He leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he scrolled through the scanned document Sophia had pulled up. There buried in the fine print on page seventeen was the escape hatch he had insisted on at the last minute, back when he still trusted no one. A quiet revocation clause. “The signing party retains unilateral right to withdraw authorization in writing, with immediate effect, upon notification to all involved parties, should circumstances materially change.”Circumstances had most definitely changed.

Chapter 35: The First LieThe message from my father burned on my phone screen like a brand.Unknown Number:Beautiful performance tonight, son. The cameras loved it. Now prove he’s really falling. Send proof. Make him say the words. Daddy’s waiting.I stared at it until the letters blurred. My stomach twisted into knots so tight I could barely breathe. The link immediately picked up my spike of dread and sent it straight to Callan. He stirred behind me, his heavy arm tightening around my waist as he woke.“Brooks?” His voice was gravel-rough from sleep, but the captain edge was already sharpening. “What is it?”I handed him the phone without a word. He read the message in silence, his body going rigid against my back. Through the link I felt the shift protective fury rising fast, followed by that cold, calculated control he wore like armor. His hand slid up my chest, fingers splaying possessively over my heart as if he could steady the fr

Chapter 34: First Public NightThe charity gala was a glittering trap wrapped in black tie and champagne.Crystal chandeliers dripped light over the ballroom of Chicago’s historic Drake Hotel. NHL players mingled with sponsors, celebrities, and old money in tuxedos that cost more than my first car. Laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, but all I could focus on was the heat of Callan’s hand resting possessively at the small of my back as we stepped into the room together.The link hummed under my skin like a live current, amplified by the new dose they’d slipped into our systems earlier that day. Every brush of his fingers sent sparks racing up my spine. Every shared glance felt electric, dangerous. The syndicate wanted a show, and the link was making sure we delivered whether we wanted to or not.“Relax, rookie,” Callan murmured low enough for only me to hear, his voice that perfect mix of command and rough comfort. His thumb stroked once

Chapter 33: Tate’s UltimatumTate stood in the doorway like a goalie who’d just read the perfect shot coming his way arms crossed, eyes narrowed, that sharp-witted stare cutting straight through whatever bullshit I might try to feed him. The connecting door between our suites felt suddenly too wide open, and the thin walls had clearly done their damage. My shirt was only half-buttoned, and I could still feel the ghost of Callan’s hands on my skin from this morning, the echo of his grief still lingering faintly in my chest through the link.I swallowed hard. “Tate… it’s not what you think.”“Save it,” he snapped, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him with a soft click. His voice was low, but there was steel in it. “I heard enough. Grief. Sterility. ‘Choosing each other despite the cost.’ You and Cap weren’t exactly whispering sweet nothings. Sounded a hell of a lot more like two guys drowning in something way bigger than locker room h

Chapter 32: Ghost of What Could Have BeenThe grief hit like a blindside hit during morning skate.We were still in bed, the Chicago dawn painting the hotel room in soft gray light. Callan had woken me with slow, lazy kisses along my spine, his body curled protectively around mine from behind. The link was quiet but present, a warm undercurrent after last night’s raw vulnerability. His hand had slid between my legs, stroking me back to hardness while he pressed open-mouthed kisses to my shoulder.“Easy,” he murmured when I pushed back against him, needy and still half-asleep. “Let me take care of you.”There were no harsh commands this morning. Just his low voice and the steady weight of him as he slicked himself and eased inside me again, slow and deep. The stretch was familiar now, welcomed. I moaned softly into the pillow as he started to move, one arm banded across my chest, holding me close. Every thrust dragged pleasure through both of us, t

Chapter 31: Echoes of SeparationI couldn’t stop crying.The sobs tore out of me like they’d been waiting years to escape ugly, gasping sounds that made my chest ache and my throat raw. Callan’s grief wasn’t just an echo through the link anymore. It felt like my own. That hollow, endless void where a future with kids should have been. The quiet shame he’d carried alone since the injury. The way he’d buried it so deep that even he rarely touched it.I was curled against his chest, naked and trembling, while his arms locked around me like steel bands. His skin was damp with sweat and my tears. Every time I tried to pull myself together, another wave of his suppressed pain rolled through the link and dragged me back under.“Shh, Brooks… breathe,” Callan murmured against my hair, his voice gentler than I’d ever heard it. No growled commands. No “rookie” or “stress relief.” Just my name, soft and rough at the edges, like it hurt him to say it. “I’ve go

Chapter 30: Father and SonThe private lounge in the back of the upscale steakhouse smelled like aged whiskey and money. Dark wood paneling, low lighting, the kind of place where deals were made that never saw daylight. I sat across from my father, the legendary Hall of Famer Harlan Rhys, in a booth that felt more like a cage than a meeting spot. My hands were steady on the outside. Inside, the link with Callan tugged like a live wire distant but insistent, a constant reminder that he was waiting back at the hotel, feeling every spike of my anxiety as if it were his own.Harlan looked exactly like the posters from my childhood: sharp jaw, silver at the temples now, eyes that could freeze a room. He sipped his scotch, watching me over the rim of the glass like I was a rookie prospect he was deciding whether to draft or discard.“You’ve disappointed me, Brooks,” he started, voice smooth as polished ice. “I expected better from my blood.”I forced a