เข้าสู่ระบบChapter 156Christian's POV Three months changed everything.The house breathed differently now. Where silence once lingered like a loaded weapon, there were so many sounds, soft ones, fragile ones. The whisper of tiny breaths through the baby monitor. The occasional cry snapped me awake faster than any gunshot ever had. The faint shuffle of Celeste moving through the halls at night, barefoot, half-asleep, entirely devoted.Seraphina.Even thinking of her name grounded me.I stood in the doorway of the nursery long before sunrise, arms crossed, watching her sleep. She lay curled on her side, impossibly small against the expanse of her crib, her dark lashes resting against cheeks still flushed with newborn warmth. One hand was fisted near her mouth; the other sprawled carelessly outward, like she trusted the world not to take it.That trust terrified me.I’d built empires on control. In anticipation. On knowing where every threat came from before it ever reached my door. But Seraphina
Chapter 155Celeste's POVWaking up felt like swimming toward the surface of a deep lake.My body was heavy, my limbs slow and distant, as though they belonged to someone else. Light filtered in gradually, soft and hazy, blurring at the edges until it settled into shape. White walls. Pale curtains stirring faintly. The low, steady hum of machines reminded me insistently that I was still here.Alive.I blinked once. Twice.Pain radiated through me in a dull, aching wave, but it was manageable, muted by exhaustion and something warmer beneath it. Something grounding.A presence.I turned my head slightly, every movement deliberate, and that was when I saw him.Christian sat with his back to me, hunched forward in a chair pulled close to the hospital bassinet. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands clasped together as if in prayer—or restraint. His head was bowed, dark hair falling into his eyes as he stared at something small and precious inside the clear cradle.He hadn’t noticed I
CHAPTER 154Christian's POV:Hospitals were battlefields of a different kind.There were no guns, no bloodstained marble floors, and no screaming men clawing for their lives, but the fear was sharper here, more insidious. It crept under my skin and lodged itself in my chest, tightening every time I looked at the closed labor room doors and realized I had no control over what was happening on the other side.Control had always been my weapon.Tonight, I had none.I paced the corridor for the third time in under ten minutes, my footsteps echoing too loudly against the sterile floors. The scent of antiseptic burned my nose. Somewhere down the hall, a machine beeped steadily, its rhythm mocking me with its calm.Celeste was inside that room.In pain. Terrified. Pushing her body past its limits. Because of me.I scrubbed a hand down my face and stopped pacing long enough to lean against the wall. My reflection stared back at me from a glass panel, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched so tightly it
CHAPTER 153Celeste's POV The ceiling lights blurred into one long, white ribbon as they wheeled me down the corridor.Everything smelled like antiseptic and clean linen and fear. Anxiety caused fear that almost had me fainting.My hands were trembling so badly I had to grip the rails of the gurney just to remind myself that I was still here, that this was real, that this wasn’t another dream where I woke up screaming and reaching for someone who wasn’t there.“Breathe, Miss Celeste. Slow breaths,” a nurse said gently, her voice calm in a way that felt almost unreal.I tried. I really did.But every breath felt too shallow, too sharp, like my lungs were refusing to cooperate. My heart was hammering so hard I could hear it in my ears and could feel it echoing down my spine and into my swollen belly, where my child shifted restlessly, as if she could sense my panic.I was terrified.Not of the pain, though the pain was already clawing through me in waves that made my vision darken, but
CHAPTER 152CELESTE:For the first time in months, silence didn’t feel like a threat. It felt like a blessing.I stood barefoot at the bedroom window, one hand braced against the glass, the other resting over the heavy curve of my belly. The estate grounds were washed in early evening gold, with no armoured cars lurking at the gates, no shadows tucked into the trees, and no men pacing with guns slung across their chests.Just wind in the leaves, birds settling for the night, just peace.The war was over. Damian was dead.And somehow… I was still breathing. The thought still didn’t feel real.Christian had stripped the house of guards a week ago. Slowly. Carefully. One post at a time, testing the perimeter like someone easing into cold water. Every removal had made me more nervous at first; terror is a stubborn parasite, but after a few nights of uninterrupted sleep, something in me finally began to loosen.I was safe. My child was safe.For the first time since that night on the road,
Chapter 151Christian's POV:Damian Grimaldi’s death didn’t land like thunder. It was more of an explosion in the underworld.Slow at first. Subtle. Then crushing.The underworld didn’t explode into chaos the way many expected. It reorganised. Predators moved quietly. Borders shifted without announcement. Old allies tested loyalties with innocent questions that carried knives in their smiles.Fear travelled faster than gunfire. Because everyone knew who killed him.And everyone knew why.The Grimaldi empire didn’t fracture overnight; it had already been rotting from the inside. Damian had ruled through terror and isolation. No siblings he trusted. No true second-in-command. Just ghosts and threats. When I took his life, there was no heir strong enough to step into his shadow.The throne stayed empty, and an empty throne invites war.But war never came for me. Not openly anyway. Because the story that spread wasn’t just that I had killed Damian. It was that I walked into hell itself an







