로그인OpheliaThe sirens got louder.Closer.Real.But Ophelia barely heard them.All she could hear was the gunshot.Again.Again.Again.It replayed in her skull like a curse carved into bone.The sound.The recoil.The split second where everything changed.One pull of a trigger.One impossible moment.And now there was a body on the floor.Still.Silent.Dead.Her fingers trembled violently around the gun. The metal felt wrong now. Heavier than before. Colder. Like it carried memory inside it. Like it knew exactly what it had done and refused to let her forget.Her breathing turned shallow.Sharp.Uneven.“I didn’t mean to…” she whispered.The words barely sounded human.Barely sounded like her.The room blurred at the edges. The screens. The blood. The flashing countdown. Everything twisted together until reality felt unstable beneath her feet.Alessandre stepped toward her carefully.Slowly.Not the way a man approached danger.The way someone approached a wounded animal.Like she mig
AlessandreControl.That was the word that changed everything.Not fear.Fear was easy to manage.Fear made people hesitate.Fear made people predictable.But control?Control was dangerous.Alessandre saw it the instant Remy stepped into the room and took it without asking. The shift was subtle. Almost invisible. A tilt in posture. A flicker in the eyes of the men behind him. The way the air itself seemed to tighten around Ophelia.Remy wasn’t trying to scare her.He was trying to own the room.And for one second—one dangerous second—it worked.Alessandre felt it happen.The balance moved.Not enough for anyone else to notice.Enough for him.Enough to know this could not continue.Enough to know Remy had already pushed too far.So he ended it.Immediately.No warning.No negotiation.One second Remy was smiling.The next, Alessandre moved.Fast.Violent.Precise.His fist collided with Remy before anyone fully realized what was happening. The crack of impact exploded through the roo
OpheliaFor one impossible second, Ophelia genuinely thought she was hallucinating.Because Remy couldn’t be here.Not now.Not after everything.Her brain rejected the sight of him standing calmly beneath the low silver lights of the underground control room. Rejected the easy posture. The familiar expression. The expensive dark coat hanging neatly over his shoulders like he had simply arrived late to dinner instead of stepping directly into the center of a war.But he was real.Terrifyingly real.And the worst part?He looked completely comfortable.Like he belonged here.Like the armed men behind him weren’t enough to send ice through her veins.Like Alessandre wasn’t two seconds away from killing him.“…No,” she whispered.The word barely escaped her throat.“No, that’s not—”But it was.Every horrible piece of it.Remy smiled softly when their eyes locked.The same smile he’d worn when he brought her coffee after late nights.The same smile he used when teasing her during argumen
AlessandreThe silence didn’t survive the broadcast.It shattered the second the stream cut off.The room that had felt controlled only moments ago suddenly carried a dangerous kind of tension, thick enough to choke on. Every monitor glowed against the darkness. Every blinking cursor felt like a countdown.Alessandre moved first.Fast.Cold.Focused.No hesitation.The moment the final frame disappeared from the screen, he crossed the room and activated another layer of the hidden system buried beneath the office walls. Panels shifted open automatically. Encrypted interfaces flooded the monitors in rapid succession.Secure channels.Dead relays.Private routing networks.Emergency protocols.His fingers moved over the keyboard with brutal precision.“They’ll respond within minutes,” he said without looking at her. “Not hours.”Ophelia forced herself to breathe evenly even though her pulse was slamming violently against her ribs.“Let them.”The words came out steadier than she felt.A
OpheliaThe fear didn’t disappear.It sharpened.Turned into something colder. More focused.Ophelia stared at the screens—at the web of names, companies, transactions—and felt something inside her settle into place.“They’re not expecting me to fight back,” she said.Alessandre watched her carefully. “No. They’re expecting you to break.”A slow breath filled her lungs.“Good.”That got his attention.She moved.Fast. Decisive.Back to the main system—the compromised one.“Ophelia—”“I know it’s compromised,” she cut in. “That’s exactly why we use it.”His eyes narrowed. “Explain.”“They’re watching it, right?”“Yes.”“Then we give them something to watch.”He didn’t stop her.But he didn’t agree yet either.“What are you planning?” he asked.She pulled up the live feed the one still showing her apartment.The man was still there.Moving through her space like he owned it.Rage flared hot, sharp—but she forced it down.Not useful.Not now.“They think they’re ahead,” she said. “They t
Chapter 62 — AlessandreFor a moment, he said nothing.Not because he didn’t know what to say.But because once he did—There was no going back.Ophelia stood across from him, shaken, eyes wide, fear barely contained beneath the anger she was still trying to hold onto.She deserved the truth.He had denied her that long enough.---Alessandre exhaled slowly, then turned toward the far wall of the office.To anyone else, it looked like nothing.Just glass.Seamless. Untouched.But he reached for it anyway.Pressed his hand flat against the surface.A soft click echoed.Then—The wall shifted.Sliding open silently to reveal a hidden panel behind it.Ophelia froze.“What… is that?”He didn’t answer.Just stepped aside.Letting her see.---Inside—A secure system.Separate from everything else.Dark screens.Cold hardware.Untouched by whatever had breached the main network.Ophelia’s breath caught.“You had this the whole time?”“Yes.”Her eyes snapped to his.“And you didn’t think to
ALESSANDRE I didn’t go straight to my penthouse room. After the press conference, the tension between Ophelia and me was so palpable it could snap. I needed some breathing room—somewhere that didn’t smell of her perfume, without Charlotte hovering over me like a hawk, and away from the hundred una
Ophelia "You look like you're gearing up for a fight," Charlotte told me, handing me the press kit.I didn't glance up from the mirror. At this point, I am."Charlotte a heavy drawn out sigh. "Just smile, recite the talking points, and—""Act like I'm infatuated with a guy who's blowing up my whol
AlessandreI woke up with a pounding headache, a tight knot of shame coiling in my throat.The sunlight sliced through the drapes like an eager intruder, illuminating the room with a harsh brightness that felt accusatory. Groaning softly, I rolled over and stared at the ceiling for what felt like
Ophelia "I can’t do this," I whispered to the mirror.Not that it would answer.But if I didn’t hear myself say it, I would start to believe I was truly mad.I hadn’t been able to sleep properly.Not since… that.He didn't come to my door. Didn't text. Didn't do anything, and that made it worse so







