LOGINSilence had a different texture now. It felt tactical, purposeful — like the quiet before a tide that would sweep everything away. I sat at the kitchen table with a thin lamp casting a pool of yellow over the papers I’d spread out: names, dates, fragments of conversations, an ugly web that traced back in ugly, familiar lines. The ink on the paper looked small and sane, but the things written there were not. They were seeds of war. After last night I had slept maybe two hours in fits, propped in a chair, hand over hand on the phone, calling people I’d kept at arm’s length for years and some I had never had reason to call until now. I’d always run my company like a general: contingency plans, exit strategies, redundancies. This was the same muscle; the stakes were different. This was no longer about quarterly reports or hostile takeovers. This was about my children, and that made the calculations sharper, meaner. I picked up my pen and circled a name I kept returning to: an old priva
Chapter 79: Broken Lyra’s POV Tlooked over at Dax, hoping to find something in his eyes— a flicker of understanding, forgiveness, anything. Bu he turned away, unable to even look at me My heart sank. Then I glanced at Keal and his face was a storm of anger; he turne his gaze from me, too, like I wasn’t worth his attention. Finally, I looked at Ronon. The silence between us spoke volumes. I guess deep down, I still hoped they’d protect me, tha they’d cover for me, because they were m mates. They were supposed to shield me weren’t they? But then I looked at the crowd gathered around us, and the fury in their faces was unmistakable. I knew I was done for. If th Alphas weren’t here, they’d kill me. It was in the eyes of the people. They wanted me dead. Why would my desperation to escape warrant so much hatred? The Guard continued to strip away my clothes, piece by piece, exposing me not just to the cold but to the judgment and wrath of everyone watching. I struggled te hold back the
Ch 48: MMO ConcertJaphet’s POVHiding my smile behind my hand, I asked, “Are you perhaps jealous that another woman knows my codename?”“J-E-A-L-O-U-S?” Ana repeated, dragging the word in a dramatic tone. “Mr. husband, why would I be jealous of you talking to other women? I-I’m just concerned about your identity getting revealed!”I chuckled softly, turning my face to hide how amused I was that she tried to lie. “Oh my bad,” I laughed, letting her think she had me fooled.“Hey, you’re getting it all wrong. I’m just trying to protect you…” she added hastily, her cheeks tinged with pink.“Protect me?” I teased sarcastically, tilting my head to look at her embarrassed expression. She looked so vulnerable and adorable that I couldn’t resist. Closing the distance, I softly pressed my lips against hers in a gentle, teasing peck.Her eyelashes fluttered, and her eyes widened slightly, filled with conflicting emotions. I could see the question in her gaze: Why would he do that now?“Japhet,
(Maxwell’s POV)The heavy iron doors of my gym creaked open as I stepped inside, the scent of sweat and steel greeting me like an old friend. The place was already alive—weights clanging, punching bags taking the brunt of frustrations, the low hum of men murmuring in corners.But this wasn’t just a gym. Not really.To outsiders, it was my legitimate business—state-of-the-art equipment, exclusive memberships, clean records. To insiders, though? It was the perfect front. Half the men who “trained” here were soldiers, the other half—clients or shadows who owed me respect. Every wall, every locker, every bag hid secrets only I controlled.I moved through the space with ease, my presence enough to straighten backs and silence whispers. Respect was one thing, fear another—I demanded both.“Boss,” one of my lieutenants nodded from the ring, wrapping his hands. I gave him a brief chin lift. Not today. My mind wasn’t here for them.No. My mind was on her.Liana.The name was enough to twist so
Liana’s POVThe garden was quiet tonight. Too quiet.I curled up on the stone bench, my shawl pulled tight around my shoulders, a book open in my lap. My eyes skimmed line after line, but none of the words stuck. They blurred together, useless.All I could think about was the missing sketchbook.I’d searched everywhere—behind the sofa cushions, under the table, even along the hallways I’d walked yesterday. Nothing. It was gone.And if it was gone… then someone had it.The thought made my stomach twist violently. Those drawings weren’t just silly sketches—they were secrets. They were pieces of me I’d never dared say out loud. Things I couldn’t afford for anyone to see. Especially not Matteo.My throat went dry. I pressed my hands against my face, whispering into my palms, Please, God. Don’t let it be him. Don’t let it be Matteo.Footsteps crunched against gravel, and I froze.I looked up—and my heart skipped.Maxwell.He strolled into view with that dangerous kind of calm, hands shoved
(Maxwell’s POV)The house was silent.Too silent.Maxwell leaned against the polished doorframe of his room, staring into the yawning stretch of the dark hallway as if it were mocking him. The shadows seemed to breathe, reminding him of the promises he had made to himself—that he would not go searching for her. He would not chase the lingering trace of roses that clung to the air whenever she passed. He would not let his mind replay that stolen kiss, the one he had no right to take, the one that still burned against his mouth like a brand.But temptation was a disease, and it lived in these walls.Restless, he paced, shoulders taut, fists clenching and unclenching as though he could wring her ghost from his veins. Finally, unable to stand the suffocating silence, he decided to head downstairs for water. A distraction. Anything to steady himself.His footsteps echoed through the cavernous living room, bouncing against marble and glass. The chandelier above swayed faintly, its crystal a
Maxwell’s POVThe walls of my room felt smaller tonIght. Like they were closing In on me, crushing every bit of control I’d been holding on to sInce I stepped Into thIs cursed house. I dragged a hand through my haIr and paced across the floor, boots scuffing against the marble tiles. My chest was t
Liana’s POVThe door clicked shut, and the silence that followed was louder than anythIng I had heard all night. It pressed in on me, heavIer than the shouting, heavIer than the slamming of fIsts and glass I had grown used to.My lips still tingled. My chest was heavIng—not from fear, not from pai
Liana povAt first, I didn’t answer.I wasn’t ready for anyone to see me like this—blood on the floor, my body trembling, my mind spiraling between too many things I couldn’t name. Was I In paIn? Was I heartbroken? Was I still burning with the shameful desIre that had haunted me in the garden?I di
Liana POV Warm fingers slid Into my haIr, pulling It gently to the sIde. The touch was smooth, deliberate—too familiar. My breath caught before I even turned. I already knew who it was. HIs hand trailed downward, slipping over my shoulder, brushIng along the edge of my top. The thin fabric dipp







