LOGINThis was one of the darkest and most pivotal chapters so far. We finally saw Robert strike with the kind of precision and cruelty that makes him the true spider at the center of this web. it’s a brutal reminder that Robert plays chess while everyone else is scrambling with checkers. For Ivy, this is a breaking point too,, she hears firsthand the price of their choices. For Killian, it’s worse: he’s forced to sit powerless as Victor carries out Robert’s will, and then Robert twists the knife by dangling an impossible revelation, that his father might still be alive. This chapter shifts the entire story into deeper territory: grief, vengeance, and secrets . From here, every move Killian Makes is no longer just about Ivy or revenge, it’s about his very identity. Brace yourself. The Wolves just showed their teeth, and the game has officially turned into war.
The hallway outside Victor’s wing smelled of liquor before Robert even reached the door.Not surprising. Not disappointing.Simply expected.He did not knock. He opened the door and stepped inside.The room was dim, curtains drawn, clothes on the floor, the faint blue glow of a TV screen left running without sound. Victor sat slouched on the edge of the bed, one hand wrapped around a half empty bottle of whiskey, his hair a mess, eyes glassy and unfocused.The image would have bothered most fathers.Robert was not most fathers.He closed the door behind him. “Stand up.”Victor blinked slowly. Confusion, then something like irritation crossed his face. “Dad?”“Stand,” Robert repeated.Victor tried. He got halfway to his feet before his balance wavered and he sat back down, bottle clinking against the floor. He laughed once, humorless. “I’m fine.”“You’re intoxicated,” Robert said. Not an insult, just a fact. “And we do not have time for you to sober up.”Victor rubbed both hands over hi
The storm had only grown heavier, the wind pushing against the windows as though the world itself was warning him to stop. Return. Rethink.He didn’t.Killian stepped through the door of the safe house, the air inside warm in contrast to the cold rain that clung to him like a second skin. The lights were dim, quiet, the place too still. Too watchful.Ivy sat on the couch, waiting.Not pacing.Not anxious.Just waiting, like someone who had already made a decision.She looked up at him, eyes calm in a way that unsettled him more than fear ever could.“You came back early,” she said softly.Killian nodded once. He didn’t speak yet. He was still carrying the adrenaline of the call, the confirmation, the reality that the next hours would either save a man or end everything.He closed the door. Locked it.Then spoke.“I came to move you,” he said. “We’re switching locations. You’re not staying here.”Ivy didn’t flinch. “Where?”“Another house. More secure,” he replied. “Away from this. Away
The safe house was quiet in a way that didn’t feel peaceful.Not empty. Not abandoned.Just quiet in the way a heart becomes quiet after too much has happened and too much is still waiting to happen.Ivy stood where Killian had left her, her hand still resting on the doorframe even though he was long gone. It had been only minutes, but it felt longer. The echo of his departure clung to the air like smoke, warm, heavy, something that stayed in the lungs even after the source was gone.His voice still played in her head. "I’ll be back." A promise, said softly against her lips.She had nodded. She had held his face in her hands. She had looked him in the eyes like she believed him.But deep in her chest, beneath bone and memory, she knew something else:He was walking into something larger than both of them.Not fate.Not destiny.History.And history is never gentle.She crossed the living room slowly, as though the air itself was thick. Rain tapped against the windows at first like fin
The night pressed in like smoke, heavy, suffocating, and too still for comfort. Killian sat alone in the dim study, the low hum of the city outside swallowed by the storm that was breaking somewhere beyond the glass. His phone screen still glowed faintly with the call from his mother.Her voice lingered in his head. “Be careful, Killian… please.”He’d promised her he would be.But he knew promises like that didn’t belong in his world.Killian’s hand tightened around the phone until his knuckles turned white. He replayed every word Elena had said, every tremor in her voice, every pause that sounded more like fear than uncertainty.The location she mentioned.The file she “accidentally” found.A remote property, off the coast, long abandoned, supposedly under restoration by one of Robert’s companies.He could feel it in his gut.This was it.He rose from his seat and crossed to the side table, unlocking the small drawer beneath it. Inside lay the secure satellite phone, one that couldn’t
The rain hadn’t stopped since she left Robert’s study. It followed her back to her room like a ghost that refused to let go. Droplets slid down the wide glass panes, blurring the garden lights into trembling orbs. The house was quiet, heavy, as though it was listening.Elena sat at the edge of her bed, her mind racing with the information she just find. The words had burrowed into her chest like a heartbeat she couldn’t silence.She closed her eyes. Killian Jackson.She hadn’t spoken that name aloud in years. She could still see him, the man who once loved her before everything became politics and promises, before Robert Wolfe and the web he built around her life. Killian’s father. The man who’d disappeared from the world but never fully from her memory.Now, she had seen it, a trace, a location, a possibility. And the thought that her son, their son, might finally find answers stirred something reckless inside her.She reached for her phone, her hand trembling slightly.For a long mo
The estate itself was quiet, almost reverent, as Elena arrived in Robert’s study.Robert was already there, the large room filled with papers, folders, and carefully arranged documents. Every item, every sheet of paper, had been placed with intention.He moved deliberately, walking to the window to observe the rain over the city, leaving the desk, and the bait, within her reach.A single folder lay there, innocuous at first glance. Its edges were crisp, its cover unremarkable, but it contained precisely what he wanted her to see, a file that suggested the location of Killian’s biological father, a secret he had guarded for over three decades.He knew the moment Elena discovered it, she would tell Killian. And in doing so, she would unknowingly lead both Killian and Ivy directly into his trap.Robert allowed himself a moment to savor the inevitability. Every movement, every decision had been calculated. Elena would act as a messenger without realizing it. Killian, driven by curiosity, l







