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Chapter 1: The Ghost in the Glass Tower
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2025-06-04 07:48:28New York City buzzed in the distance as Bella Quinn stepped out of the taxi. The sound, once so loud and close, now felt far away like a memory she didn’t want to wake up.
It had been five years. Five long years since she ran from this city, from the pain it brought. Now, she stood in front of a tall glass building Reed International. The name alone made her stomach twist.
She held her portfolio tight. It felt solid in her hands, like proof that she had built a new life. A stronger one. One that didn’t depend on anyone but herself.
“Ms. Quinn? Isabella Quinn?”
The voice snapped her back to the present. A young woman walked up to her, holding a tablet and wearing a perfect smile. “Welcome to Reed International. Mr. Reed is expecting you.”
Bella’s heart skipped a beat. Mr. Reed. Of course. He was the mystery client. She hadn’t known his name until now.
Her hands shook slightly as she followed the assistant through the shiny, quiet lobby. Everything looked expensive and cold. The walls, the lights, the people all so polished. All so familiar.
This was his world.
The elevator felt too slow. Each second stretched forever. She tried to calm herself. She was no longer that girl from five years ago. She was Bella Quinn now. A successful architect. A strong single mother. Not Isabella Reed, the broken woman who had once been married to a man who didn’t see her pain.
The doors opened.
The assistant led her into a large office with tall windows and a view of the city. He was standing there, facing the glass, his back to her.
Jason Reed.
He hadn’t turned yet, but she could feel his presence tall, powerful, and distant. He seemed even colder now.
Then, he turned.
Bella stopped breathing.
His eyes were the same icy blue. His face was older, more serious, but still sharp. Still him. His gaze landed on her and for a second, she thought she saw surprise. But it quickly faded into something harder.
He stared at her like she was a stranger. Or a ghost.
The silence between them was loud. Bella’s heart pounded. This wasn’t just the past showing up again it was crashing right into her.
Jason’s eyes narrowed. His face grew cold. He didn’t speak at first. He just studied her like she was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.
Finally, his deep voice broke the silence.
“You’re late, Ms. Quinn. I’m Jason Reed. You’ll be working with me directly.”
His tone was sharp, almost rude.
Bella felt her jaw tighten.
She saw it in his eyes. He was already suspicious. He didn’t know the truth, not yet. But he could feel something was off.
And in that moment, she knew.
This wasn’t going to be just another job.
This was the start of something she had tried to leave behind. Something full of secrets, tension and danger.
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Once my Wife Chapter 131: A Desperate Lie and Intimate Strength
The night began with a lie so well rehearsed it almost felt real.The penthouse glowed with the warm shimmer of candlelight and quiet jazz, the kind that tried too hard to sound casual. Jason had set the table himself — wine glasses polished, silverware aligned, everything in perfect order. But underneath the perfect setting, the air was tense enough to snap.Bella stood by the window, staring out over the city lights. Her reflection looked calm, but her fingers twisted around her bracelet, her nerves betraying her.“They’ll be here any minute,” she murmured.Jason adjusted his collar in the mirror. “Good. The sooner they come, the sooner we end this.”He poured the wine — a deep red that looked almost like blood under the soft light.When the doorbell rang, Bella forced a smile so smooth it almost fooled her. Almost.Lila stepped in first, bright-eyed, dressed in a light pink blouse that made her look younger, gentler. Her laughter filled the space like she’d walked into a safe place
Once my Wife Chapter 130: The Contingency
“The War Room?” Jason said, standing in the doorway like a man who hadn’t expected to be shown his own bones. “You dragged Elena into this because—”“Because she doesn’t flinch,” Bella cut in. She closed the door behind her, voice flat, like someone tucking a dangerous thing into a safe place. “Because she sees trackers for what they are. Not toys, not trophies. Threats.”Elena adjusted her glasses, looked at the bank of screens and the tangle of live feeds and sensor readouts, and then at Jason as if he were one more line item. Her hands were steady. Her face was an assessment. “You called me in because something is wrong,” she said. “And you two aren’t very good at pretending otherwise.”Jason let out a breath that had been stuck in his chest for days. “The chip,” he said. “The one we found in the warehouse. It came from Bannon.”Elena’s eyes flicked to the main monitor where the tracker blipped like a heartbeat. “Voss was blunt. Bannon is subtle. Bannon doesn’t need cash from you.
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The elevator doors opened with a sharp hiss, and Jason burst into the penthouse like a storm breaking glass. His breath was shallow, his pulse hammering against the edge of control. The world outside glittered—towers of light and power—but inside, everything was still. Too still.His sleek Italian loafers made no sound on the marble floor. Every step was a quiet explosion of dread.“Jason—” Bella’s voice caught in her throat as she hurried in after him, her heels clicking once before she kicked them off to move faster. “What are you doing?”Jason didn’t answer. He went straight for the bookshelf.That damned, elegant bookshelf. The one that hid their War Room—their secret heart, their digital fortress, their home.But now it was poison.Robert Bannon’s voice echoed in Jason’s head like the echo of a loaded gun:“Every time you open that shelf, my network receives a ping.”A ping.A heartbeat.A signal to their enemy.Their safe haven had been a silent bomb all along.Jason’s hands wer
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Jason walked into the installation like a man stepping into an empty cathedral — quiet, echoing, full of things meant to be looked at and not touched. The lights were dim; sculptures cast long, strange shadows. Somewhere a soft mechanical chime measured seconds like a judge.He found Robert Bannon already waiting, palms flat on the table, the canvas of his face calm and unreadable. Old money, older habits. Bannon’s smile was the kind that told you he knew the rules and he enjoyed bending them.Jason set a small sealed envelope on the table and pushed it forward. The motion was casual. The sound was deliberate.“Open it,” he said.Bannon did, slow and smooth. He unfolded copies of settlement papers, signatures blurred but the meaning sharp as glass.“You know about the child,” Jason said. “I know about the woman. I know what you did to make those things vanish. The measures you took—Julian Voss would have applauded.”Bannon’s eyes didn’t change. His voice was soft, measured, like someo
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The café was quiet enough to hear the spoon clink against the edge of a coffee cup. Outside, the low hum of city traffic mixed with the rustle of leaves from Central Park. Bella sat near the back corner, hidden from the crowd. The smell of roasted beans filled the air, but she barely tasted her drink. She’d been waiting—heart tight, mind racing—when Elena finally slid into the seat across from her.Elena didn’t waste time. Her sharp eyes darted once toward the window before she reached into her leather bag and pulled out a thick, sealed folder. She set it down gently, like a bomb waiting to go off.Elena (quietly): “You were right to ask about Bannon. I’ve been digging into his periphery—every hidden record, every sealed settlement. The man’s not just powerful, Bella. He’s engineered that way. Legally bulletproof. Financially sterile. A fortress in a suit.”She pushed the file across the table.Bella (hesitant): “And you found a crack?”Elena leaned back, folding her arms.Elena: “Twe
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