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Chapter One Hundred and Four: The Smell of freedom

作者: Jhumie_writes
last update 最終更新日: 2025-08-25 19:01:58
The mirrors were everywhere.

Four tall panes of glass stood in a half circle around me, each reflecting the same ghost of a woman back at me. White silk slid over my skin like a cage disguised as luxury. The dressmaker’s hands moved like a vulture’s talons, pinning, smoothing, tugging, until the gown felt less like fabric and more like a shroud. This was a last minutes wear for the after party as Victor had wanted.

“Stand straight,” she muttered, her accent clipped. “The Wolfe name deserves perfection tomorrow.”

Perfection. That word again. Everyone in this estate fed on it, spat it out like poison. Perfect smile. Perfect obedience. Perfect bride. My stomach twisted beneath the corset, but I held still, biting the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper.

Victor sat in the corner, lounging as though he were king of the world, a glass of brandy balanced casually in his hand. His gaze never left me.

“Beautiful,” he said finally, his voice syrupy but cold. “Though I think the neckline sh
Jhumie_writes

This chapter sets the stage for the explosive escape. Ivy’s terror, Victor’s control, and Mrs. B’s cryptic promise all collide here. Next, Killian returns to take his place in the storm, and when he and Ivy finally move, nothing will be the same again.

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  • His To Ruin   Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen: Orders in Blood

    Robert Wolfe was a man who believed silence was the sharpest weapon in his arsenal. Noise was for men who had nothing else to offer, men like his son Victor who thought rage equaled power. Robert knew better. Rage clouded, rage exposed. Strategy killed.The study smelled of smoke and oak, curtains drawn to keep the morning light at bay. The shattered whisky glass from the night before had already been swept away, though Robert could still see the stain bleeding faintly into the carpet fibers. He sat behind his desk, hands clasped, and waited as one of his men returned with a phone pressed into his palm.His voice was low, clipped. “Call Mercer back. Tell him the retraction is coming. Immediate.”The man nodded, no questions asked, and disappeared again.Extraction. That was the word Robert had used. Cold. Clean. Not a trace of softness to it. He gave no further instructions aloud, but his men knew what it meant, and a message would be sent soon to killian or anybody that helps him , a

  • His To Ruin   Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen: The Cost Of Delay

    The Wolfe mansion had been locked down for hours, the air so thick with tension it felt like smoke in the lungs. Victor stormed through the halls like a rabid dog, his orders echoing off marble and steel. Guards doubled, gates reinforced, every servant interrogated until their hands shook with fear.But Robert sat in his leather chair, silent. A predator at rest. Watching. Thinking.He had lived long enough to know rage was a luxury only the inexperienced indulged in. Weak men shouted; strong men calculated. And Robert Wolfe had never been weak.The knock at his study door came hesitant, almost apologetic. One of his men entered, phone in hand, bowing his head low as if approaching an altar.“Sir,” the man said carefully. “It’s Mercer.”Robert’s sharp eyes flicked to the phone. Daniel Mercer. A name few in his household even knew. A shadow asset. A relic of older, dirtier days. Useful precisely because he was invisible.Robert gestured with two fingers. The phone was placed into his h

  • His To Ruin   Chapter One Hundred and Twelve: The Fortress of Wolves

    The Wolfe estate no longer resembled a mansion. By the time the sun climbed above the horizon, it had been transformed into a fortress.Iron gates clanged shut, chains locking into place like prison bars. Guards in black tactical uniforms flooded the grounds, radios crackling with clipped orders. No car entered, no servant left. Every door was bolted, every window latched. The house, once alive with the bustle of florists and planners, now breathed fear.Victor Wolfe stood at the center of it all like a general preparing for war. His tailored suit was half buttoned, his hair still disheveled from the early hours, but his presence was electrified, dangerous.“She didn’t vanish into thin air,” he barked, pacing before the line of trembling staff gathered in the grand hall. “She had help. Someone in this house opened a door, carried a bag, left a post. Someone thinks they’re clever enough to betray me.” His eyes swept over them like a blade. “I will find them. And when I do..." He snappe

  • His To Ruin   Chapter One Hundred and Eleven: The Bride Who Vanished

    Victor Wolfe woke before the sun.The mansion was alive with preparations, every corridor humming with quiet urgency. Florists bustled in and out of the grand hall, arms full of roses so red they looked like spilled blood. Silver trays gleamed in the kitchens, servants darted between polished marble and towering champagne towers. Outside, the Wolfe estate gleamed like a crown awaiting its jewel.And that jewel, today, was Ivy Lancaster.His bride. His triumph. His possession.Victor stood before his mirror, shirt half-buttoned, admiring his reflection as though he could already see the headlines:Victor Wolfe, heir apparent. Victor Wolfe, husband. Victor Wolfe and Ivy Lancaster wedded.For years, his life had been measured against another man’s name, his brother’s name. Killian. Killian, the bastard, the shadow, the thief of every whisper of power before Victor could claim it. But today, the scales tipped. Today, in front of their father, their society, their world, Victor would prove

  • His To Ruin   Chapter One Hundred and Ten: Bound to the Fire

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  • His To Ruin   Chapter One Hundred and Nine: When the Dam Breaks

    The safehouse was cloaked in silence, the kind that followed after storms. For hours, the only sound had been the dull hum of the city outside, distant and irrelevant compared to the weight of two people breathing in the same room again.Months of being locked away. Months of fighting Victor’s control.Months of replaying that night, the one mistake that had never left her blood. The one mistake that brought her to him. And now here he was, real, breathing, dangerous, hers.Her lips parted, but no words came out.Killian’s jaw flexed, his dark eyes dragging over her like he was starving. “Do you have any idea,” he muttered, voice rough, “what it did to me? Knowing you were in that house. Knowing I couldn’t touch you. Couldn’t get to you.”Her breath hitched. “And now?” she whispered.The corner of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile, more like a warning. “Now I’m letting you out of my sight again."Ivy’s pulse stuttered. “Killian..."She didn’t finish because he was already moving. H

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