Nobela ni Jhumie_writes

Pain came first. A dull, throbbing ache behind her eyes like she’d been hit or drugged, or both. Emilia blinked into the haze, struggling to separate dreams from reality. Her limbs were heavy. The air smelled of dust, steel, and something bitter.She tried to move and found her hands bound in front of her with plastic zip ties. Panic shot through her chest. She sat up too fast, her head spinning. The room was dimly lit, with cold, concrete walls and one small barred window far above. There was no furniture, no warmth. Just her, on the floor, in a place that reeked of captivity.A metal door creaked open.And then she saw her.The woman entered like a queen surveying a conquered kingdom, elegant, sharp-featured, dressed in dark leather and silk, her heels clicking against the floor. Her beauty was dangerous, refined but lethal, like a blade sheathed in velvet.Emilia stared.The woman stared back.“You’re awake,” the stranger said, voice rich with something that sounded too smooth to b

They always looked at her the same way at first,like she was a beautiful thing to be possessed.Until they realized too late…She was the one doing the possessing.Catalina Varela stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of her penthouse, bathed in the dusky hue of twilight. The city glittered below like a thousand desperate prayers, none of them hers. Behind her, the walls were black marble, trimmed in gold, cold as the woman who owned them.She swirled the glass of red wine in her hand, not bothering to drink.“I trust the package arrived?” she asked without turning.“Yes, Señora,” a voice answered from the shadows behind her. “The girl is in holding. No marks. No noise. Just like you said.”Catalina smiled, a slow, indulgent curve of her crimson-painted lips. “Of course she didn’t scream. She’s not stupid. She knows the moment she does, someone will bleed.”She finally turned.The man standing in the corner, lean, tattooed, ex-military, lowered his gaze. Even killers didn’t lo

Emilia walked along the stone path that wound through the garden behind the estate, her arms folded across her chest to hold in the warmth of her cardigan. A few steps behind her, two of Lucien’s guards lingered like shadows, silent, alert, and never far.It should have felt safe.But it didn’t.There was something hollow about the silence today. The flowers looked dull. The breeze didn’t hum with life like it usually did. And even the guards, normally stoic but relaxed, seemed wired, twitchy, like they were waiting for something that hadn’t yet arrived.She stopped beside the rose trellis, brushing her fingers across the petals. A thorn pricked her finger, and she pulled her hand back quickly, sucking on the sting. It was stupid, but it felt like a sign.“Careful, mi rosa,” a voice behind her murmured.Rosa.The housekeeper walked slowly toward her, a basket of folded laundry in her arms. Her gaze wasn’t warm. It never was. But today, there was something different in it, something sha

The first body dropped before the SUV tires even stopped spinning.Lucien fired through the cracked window without hesitation, the bullet finding its mark in the skull of the lookout posted near the warehouse door. Blood sprayed the gravel like a signature.“Clear the left,” he barked as Johnny and Kade jumped out behind him.They were deep in South Ridge, where the city thinned into abandoned lots and rusted metal. The warehouse had no lights. No guards visible. Just silence, and the iron taste of a trap in the air.Lucien didn’t care. He moved like vengeance wrapped in flesh, slipping through shadows with his Glock drawn. They weren’t here to knock. They were here to burn it all down.A second shot rang out from Kade’s side. One of the Alvaro men had tried to bolt from the back. He didn’t make it five feet.Kade cracked the side door open. “Movement. Six, maybe seven. Two on the rafters.”Lucien didn’t wait.He kicked the door fully open and walked into hell. Sparks flew. Concrete ch

The sound of the gunfire was distant at first.Lucien paused at the top of the stairs, his hand tightening around the banister. The scent of ash from the hearth still clung to the hallway. He had been heading back to speak to Emilia, to say something, anything, but the sharp, staccato crack of bullets changed everything.Seconds later, the house exploded into motion.“Boss!” someone shouted from below.Lucien was already moving. He descended like a shadow, sharp and fast, heart pounding. By the time he reached the foyer, his men had already flanked the front doors, weapons drawn.“Talk to me,” he ordered.“We’ve got movement at the east gate. Three SUVs, tinted glass. They didn’t stop at the perimeter. Just blew through it like they knew what they were doing.”Lucien’s jaw locked. “Who’s on the gate?”“Marco and Dane.”His two best perimeter guards. Which meant whoever this was… wasn’t stupid.Lucien turned to Matteo. “Get Emilia to the vault. Now.”“She’s in her room…”“Now, Matteo.”

The silence after Lucien left was worse than the shouting. Worse than the tension in the hall. Worse than the haunting sound of car doors slamming in the distance. It was the kind of silence that crept beneath the skin, curling into her chest and pressing against her lungs until every breath felt like a question.Emilia sat on the edge of the bed, her legs pulled in tight, arms wrapped around herself. The black file still lay open beside her, its corners curled, the pages stained with names she didn’t know and faces she couldn’t forget. Each image burned itself into her memory, red slashes across grainy photos, bullets through time.And her father.His name was everywhere. Not just once. Not just in passing. It was there like a signature. A curse.Lucien had been watching her long before she ever stepped foot in this house. Long before he claimed her.Because of him?A tremor moved through her spine. She couldn’t tell if it was fear or disbelief anymore.She wasn’t anyone. Not really.