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ALMS TO LOVE CHAPTER 146

Penulis: MIKS DELOSO
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-10-18 22:18:09

Paris never slept, only dimmed.

Valeria emerged from the taxi into a darkening sky over Montparnasse. The rain had ceased, but the streets still shone, puddles reflecting the glint of neon signs and oncoming headlights.

The driver looked at her in the rearview mirror. "Vous êtes sûre, madame?" he asked, ill at ease. "This is not a good neighborhood at night."

Valeria gave him a fifty-euro note and whispered, "Neither is the truth."

She emerged into the wet air, the stinging smell of asphalt and smoke drifting up around her. In front of her stood an elderly Haussmann building stuck between two closed cafés, all its windows black except for one dim light on the third floor. That was the address the mysterious message had provided.

She re-read the message before deleting it:

"If you wish to know who is supplying Manila, come alone. 23 Rue Delambre. Third floor."

Her fingers grazed the tiny recording unit concealed in her coat pocket—a reflex from her journalist days before she'd met Fion
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    At the Billion estate the morning moved like a careful actor on a stage. They persuaded themselves, and their staff, that life would stitch its seams back together. The media circus had been managed; the market had steadied; statements had been issued. But the house itself felt wound tight: rooms were cleaned, schedules reworked, security tightened, and the press team rehearsed the language for the next week until the words were muscle memory.Madam Jamaica watched the movements, eyes slow and predatory, like a hawk watching a field. She had taken Candy into the estate under counsel’s legal cover—temporary custody, a protective petition executed with the authority of the board. The child was small and howling on the carriage ride from Marie’s penthouse; she had clung to her stuffed rabbit like a talisman. Jamaica had placed Candy in a guest wing, a neutral suite under the estate’s roof, and then—because she was not merely a guardian but a mother an

  • ALMS TO LOVE   ALMS TO LOVE CHAPTER 161

    Jamaica's words were clinical, chosen to wound.“but if you make a move to take Candy by force, you will be arrested and the evidence will be used against you.”The threat hung in the air like a blade. For the first time since her carefully cultivated fury had become a social weapon, Marie felt fear. It was a small, hot thing that made nausea burn under her ribs.“You’ll rue this,” she rasped, fight flaring hot and foolishly. “You’ll all rue this.”“Perhaps,” Jamaica said softly, and in that was pity quieter than fury and infinitely colder. “But not for my family. For you.”The line went dead. Marie sagged against the window, the city tilting beneath her.She'd wanted war. She had thought it would look like headlines and stock blips and a crowd eating her words up like bread. Instead it had looked like a child bundled in someone else's arms and a woman's voice saying, plainly and irrevocably, that she was not fit to be trusted with her own daughter.The maid came in again, whispering,

  • ALMS TO LOVE   ALMS TO LOVE CHAPTER 160

    The car slid up the drive to Marie's building like a dark promise. She let herself in with shaking hands, rain still clinging to her lashes. The penthouse felt cavernous, every surface a mirror to the night. She shoved her keys into the bowl by the door and kicked off her heels, the sound too loud in the emptiness.A face of a maid, eyes round, apron damp, a towel clutched to her chest appeared from the doorway to the kitchen.“Ma’am—” she started, her voice strangled. “Ma’am, Candy,”Marie didn't wait for the rest. "What about Candy?" She had expected fury, yes, but not this.this thin, untethered panic in the house that had been her fortress.The maid's hands fluttered like trapped birds. "They… they took her, Ma'am. Madam Jamaica's guards two men in suits and two in uniform—arrived. They said they were escorting Candy for her safety. They would not let me stop them."The syllables hit Marie like a physical blow. For a second she could not breathe. "They what?" Her voice was small an

  • ALMS TO LOVE   ALMS TO LOVE CHAPTER 159

    Fiona halted a yard in front of Marie and took a breath, the cameras devouring the hesitation. "Why are you doing this to me?" she asked, and the statement was not a question so much as an accusation. "Why are you constantly besmirching my reputation? Do you think Philip would be proud of this? I never—never—did anything to hurt you. Why persist in persecuting me—and even my daughter Liza? Tell me, Marie. Tell me now."Her voice shook with rage until it hardened to brittle steel. She advanced and took Marie's hands, clasping them with such force that the woman winced. The reporters' shutters stuttered in a blur.Marie's eyes were brimmed at the corners, fury and embarrassment intertwined. She managed to free one hand and spat the reply like a blasphemy. "Because you stole the one I loved. I loved Charles first, before Philip—before any of it. I cannot bear him happy with someone else. I won't let the Billion fortune pass into your hands."

  • ALMS TO LOVE   ALMS TO LOVE CHAPTER 158

    Inside the mansion, Jamaica stood before the raging fire, her outline chiseled in gold by the blaze.Fiona arrived with stealth, cradling the flash drive."She's smart," Fiona whispered. "But not invisible.Jamaica swung her head around. "No one is invisible, my dear. Least of all those who think they are."Fiona's pause was hesitant. "You mean to reveal her?""When the moment is right.""And when is that?"Jamaica's eyes rose to look beyond the glass at the storm. "When the truth will hurt her more than the lies ever damaged us."The morning broke without pity.Marie Drams awoke to quiet that wasn't hers—too quiet, too calculated. She rolled over in bed, bedding in a knot, her heart racing and off. The champagne flute on the bedside table sparkled with pale light.Her phone vibrated. One text. From Brenn.We have a problem.Her eyebrows furrowed. She responded immediately. What sort of problem?

  • ALMS TO LOVE   ALMS TO LOVE CHAPTER 157

    She looked out the window. Outside, the storm clouds massed again, dark and foreboding.“Let her burn herself out,” Jamaica murmured. “Then we’ll end this—for good.”The rain had returned by noon.It came down in thin silver curtains, streaking across the long windows of the Billion estate like ghosts that refused to leave.Fiona stood in the atrium, arms folded, eyes distant. She hadn’t slept. None of them had.Madam Jamaica’s instructions had been clear that morning: No interviews. No statements. Wait for the next move.But now there was one."Ma'am," one of the butlers said, moving inside. "A woman is here to see you. Says it's an emergency. Her name's… Layla Vern."Jamaica set aside her chair. "Send her in. Alone."The butler hesitated. "She appears… scared.""All the better," Jamaica said.Layla Vern appeared in the room as a specter, her hand

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