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A Letter to the Past
publish date:
2026-10-22 01:39:36
Latest chapter
His Contract, Her Revenge Viktor’s Promotion
Chapter 75Bailey's POV"If we hand Viktor full executive command over the entire global security infrastructure without board oversight, we are handing one man the keys to every vault, weapon, and safe house Crest Holdings owns," I said, slamming the thick leather folder down onto the low glass table.The silence in the top-floor executive retreat was instant and absolute. Standing near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, Raven didn't turn around right away. He kept his hands resting in the pockets of his tailored trousers, his broad back rigid against the bright morning light.A sharp, dangerous friction sparked between us, vibrating through the cold glass and warm leather of the private suite. My pulse hammered against my ribs, driven by a deep-seated instinct that had kept me alive through eight years of terror. For nearly a decade, trusting a single man with absolute power had meant execution. Frank Crest had bought loyalty until the checks bounced, then turned his
His Contract, Her Revenge The Family Portrait
Chapter 74Bailey's POV"If you move that easel three inches closer to the center aisle, you're going to block the direct sightline from the executive balcony," I said, my voice cutting sharply through the echoing quiet of the grand hall.The master artist, an elderly man with thick silver hair and a paint-stained smock, didn't even look up from his palette. "The lighting from the south window demands this angle, Mrs. Crest. Unless you prefer your family to look like grey ghosts against marble."A tight, uncomfortable knot pulled tight in my chest. Standing in the center of the massive hall at Crest Tower, my heels felt glued to the polished stone floor. High above us, the vaulted glass ceilings reflected the morning sun, casting long, sharp beams across the space where dark corporate deals had been signed for thirty years. For decades, the only art permitted on these dark oak walls had been severe, unsmiling oil paintings of former directors—men who built fortunes on crushed lives an
His Contract, Her Revenge A Letter to the Past
Chapter 73Bailey's POV"If you press that pen down any harder, Bailey, you're going to tear straight through the parchment," Raven said, his voice flat and stern in the quiet morning air.I didn't lift my head. The heavy brass pen in my hand shook so violently that ink blotted across the paper, ruining the fourth attempt at a opening sentence. "I don't need you monitoring my handwriting, Raven. I need you to give me five feet of space.""You've been sitting on this stone wall for an hour in a freezing coastal wind," he said, taking a deliberate step closer until his shadow fell over the small iron table. "Your hands are raw, your breathing is shallow, and you haven't written a single coherent word. This isn't healing. It's self-torture.""It's my closure!" I snapped, spinning around in my chair, the sudden movement causing the iron legs to scrape loudly against the flagstones. "You don't get to decide how or when I let go of him. You didn't watch him bleed out on that concrete floor
His Contract, Her Revenge Snow on the Coast
Chapter 72Bailey's POV"You shouldn't be out here without boots, Bailey," Raven said, his dark voice slicing through the muffled silence of the falling snow.I didn't stop. The thin leather soles of my house slippers crunched against the fresh white layer covering the stone terrace, the bitter cold biting straight through my thin socks. "I just needed a minute, Raven. Is it a crime to want a single breath of air without a shadow standing over me?"He stepped down off the deck, his tall figure swallowed by the dim midnight light, his broad shoulders squared under a heavy dark coat. The ocean below the cliffs sounded strange tonight, its loud crashing dampened by the thick curtain of white drifting down from the black sky.A sharp, sudden tension flared hot in my chest, clashing with the freeze surrounding us. It wasn't about the shoes, and we both knew it. For two hours inside, surrounded by warm laughter and family, a quiet panic had been building behind my ribs. The snow on this coa
His Contract, Her Revenge Family Reunion at the Villa
Chapter 71Bailey's POV"If we move the dining arrangement to the main patio, the wind coming off the cliffs will freeze the food before anyone takes a bite," I said, setting down a heavy silver tray on the kitchen island with a sharp clatter that made the staff jump.The main kitchen of the coastal villa was buzzing with chaotic energy, filled with the rich, savory scents of roasted turkey, fresh rosemary, and warm apple tart. Yet, my chest felt tight with a sudden, frustrating knot of worry. Maya was upstairs helping Evelyn unpack, Viktor was pacing the front courtyard checking perimeter posts, and the entire holiday gathering felt like a delicate house of cards that one wrong move could knock down.Raven walked into the kitchen, his tall frame cutting through the activity. He was dressed in a casual black sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, but his face carried that unyielding, commanding edge he used in the boardroom."The patio glass is fully sealed, Bailey," Raven
His Contract, Her Revenge Closing Frank's Ledger
Chapter 70Bailey's POV"If we sign this release form right now without checking the hidden offshore account codes, we might accidentally leave a loop for his old allies to claim the remaining funds," I said, my hand hovering over the heavy brass pen resting on the mahogany desk.The air in the private conference room of Crest Tower was stiff and suffocating, heavy with the phantom scent of old tobacco and corrupt wealth. Sitting across from us was the state-appointed executor, a middle-aged man whose nervous fingers tapped a steady, agonizing rhythm against a thick stack of legal documents. On the table between us lay the final accounting ledgers of Frank Crest’s shattered empire—every hidden asset, every stolen property, and every offshore account he had used to buy blood and silence.A sudden, familiar wave of hesitation twisted tight in my throat. My gaze locked onto Frank’s harsh signature printed across the top margin of the master deed. For eight long years, this man’s shadow h
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