LOGINChapter Twenty-Five: The Price of Control Ethan Blackwood did not like chaos. He tolerated violence. He orchestrated fear. He mastered consequences. But chaos—true chaos—was something he crushed the moment it appeared. And Isabella had become chaos. Not because she was reckless. But because she was effective. The headlines hadn’t used his name first. That was the problem. BLACKWOOD WIFE DISARMS AMBUSH ISABELLA BLACKWOOD: THE NEW POWER BESIDE THE THRONE WHO IS THE WOMAN EVEN ETHAN BLACKWOOD COULDN’T CONTROL? Ethan read every word in silence, jaw tight, expression unreadable. Across the room, Isabella stood by the window, the city stretched beneath her like a living thing. Her arm was bandaged. Her posture was calm. Too calm. She had learned quickly. Too quickly. “You enjoyed it,” Ethan said at last. She turned. “Enjoyed what?” “The attention.” “I didn’t ask for it.” “You didn’t stop it ei
Chapter Twenty-Four: The Moment the World Tilted Ethan Blackwood walked into the trap like it was an invitation. Arrogant didn’t begin to describe it. He wore a charcoal suit cut to perfection, no tie, cufflinks etched with the Blackwood crest—subtle, old, unmistakable. His stride was unhurried. His posture radiated the kind of confidence that told the world he expected it to move out of his way. Men noticed. They always did. I noticed something else. He wasn’t carrying a weapon. “Do you plan to insult them with confidence alone?” I murmured as we exited the car. He didn’t look at me. “Weapons announce fear.” “And arrogance?” I asked. “That,” he said coolly, “announces inevitability.” The location was a private industrial gallery—steel, glass, concrete, curated to look neutral. Neutral spaces were always chosen for bloodless violence. Deals made here ended careers, not lives. At least, that was the intention. Secur
Chapter Twenty-Three: When the Shield Turns Human Ethan Blackwood’s loss of control did not explode outward. It collapsed inward. And that was worse. The consequences began before sunrise. Phones rang unanswered. Markets trembled. Three deals Ethan had spent years engineering unraveled in a single hour—not because enemies attacked, but because allies withdrew. Fear had reached them. And fear made men unpredictable. I learned that when I walked into the war room and found it half empty. Not abandoned—evacuated. Men who once waited for Ethan’s nod now avoided his gaze. Screens flashed red with warnings, flagged accounts, halted transfers. His empire was still standing, but the foundation had cracked. “He scared them,” one of the remaining advisors whispered to another. “Too publicly.” “He chose her,” someone else muttered. “That’s the weakness.” I stopped walking. That word again. W
Chapter Twenty-Two: The Night He Lost Control Ethan Blackwood did not rage. That was what terrified them. The war room was silent—too silent. Screens glowed with data, threats, shifting alliances. Men who had survived coups, blood feuds, and financial wars stood rigid, eyes forward, breathing shallow. No one spoke. Ethan stood at the head of the table, hands braced against the polished surface, head slightly bowed. His stillness felt like the pause before a bullet left the chamber. “She released it anyway,” one man finally said, voice tight. “The second wave. Anonymous, but it’s hers.” Ethan lifted his head. The look in his eyes made the room recoil. Not anger. Decision. “Lock down everything,” he said quietly. “Every channel. Every contact she’s touched in the last twenty-four hours.” “Yes—” “And find out,” Ethan continued calmly, “who encouraged her.” A pause. “Sir… that list includes people in this room.”
Chapter Twenty-One: The Price of Standing Beside Him The world did not turn on me all at once. It tilted first. A subtle shift in balance—just enough that I felt it in the way conversations stalled when I entered rooms, in the way smiles tightened instead of softened. People still bowed their heads to Ethan Blackwood. They still spoke his name with awe and caution. But when they looked at me, something had changed. Curiosity had curdled into suspicion. The morning it became official, I found out the same way everyone else did—through a headline blinking across a screen I hadn’t meant to look at. BLACKWOOD’S WIFE LINKED TO LAURENT COLLAPSE. SOURCES CLAIM MANIPULATION BEHIND THE SCENES. My breath caught. I read it again. Then again. Manipulation. Influence. Ambition disguised as innocence. I felt sick. “They’re rewriting me,” I whispered. Behind me, Ethan stood silent, arms crossed, gaze unreadable. “They always do,”
Chapter Twenty: When the Crown Falls Celeste Laurent’s downfall did not explode. It rippled. At first, the world pretended nothing had happened. Her name still appeared on guest lists. Her charities still bore her signature. Her penthouse lights still glowed at night. From the outside, she remained untouchable—a woman carved from old power and careful influence. But beneath the surface, everything was rotting. I felt it before I understood it. The mansion buzzed with tension the morning after. Phones rang and went silent. Guards spoke in low, clipped voices. Ethan moved through it all like a storm contained in human form—calm, controlled, devastating. He didn’t look at me when I entered the study. “She’s calling everyone,” he said flatly, eyes on the screen before him. “And no one is answering.” “What happens to someone like her,” I asked quietly, “when the world turns its back?” Ethan’s fingers paused on the desk. “They rem







