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Chapter 34: Breaking Chains
Last Updated:
2025-03-18 05:39:39
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Shattered Vows Chapter 35: A Battle of Wills
The atmosphere in the Blackwood estate was suffocating, thick with an unspoken tension that wrapped around Isla like a steel chain. The grand chandeliers cast a golden glow over the marble floors, but the beauty of the place only heightened the dread in her chest. She had tried to leave, she had fought for her freedom, but Killian had shut down every escape route. And now, she was trapped.Killian stood across the lavish sitting room, his hands in his pockets, exuding his usual cold confidence. But there was a glint in his eyes—a possessiveness that made Isla’s stomach twist."You're making this harder than it needs to be," Killian finally said, his voice calm but edged with warning.Isla’s fingers curled into fists at her sides. "Harder? You’re the one keeping me here like a prisoner! I have every right to walk away."A slow smirk lifted one corner of his mouth. "Not when you're carrying my child."Her breath hitched. That was always his trump card, wasn’t it? The reminder that she w
Last Updated : 2025-03-19Shattered Vows Chapter 37: The Ties That Bind
The tension in the Blackwood estate had reached its peak. Isla had expected Killian to continue his cold indifference after their last heated conversation, but instead, he seemed to be playing a new game—one she wasn’t sure how to win.The morning light filtered through the expansive windows of the estate, casting long golden streaks across the marble floors. Isla stood by the window of her bedroom, watching the city skyline in the distance, her thoughts scattered. She should have felt triumphant—Killian had given her a choice. Stay and submit to his conditions, or fight him and risk losing everything. But why did it feel like no choice at all?A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Before she could answer, the heavy oak door swung open, and there he was.Killian Blackwood.Dressed in an immaculate three-piece suit, he was the picture of effortless power. But his gaze—dark and unreadable—was locked on her with an intensity that made her pulse race. He didn’t look like a man
Last Updated : 2025-03-19Shattered Vows Chapter 38: The Breaking Point
The penthouse was quiet, the weight of unspoken words pressing against the walls like a silent storm waiting to break. Isla stood near the massive glass windows, her arms wrapped around herself as she gazed at the glowing city beneath her. The view had once mesmerized her, but now it only felt like a gilded cage, trapping her in a world she no longer wanted to be a part of.She had made up her mind. She was going to leave.The click of expensive Italian leather shoes against the marble floor sent a shiver down her spine. She didn’t turn around, already knowing who it was. Killian Blackwood had a presence that demanded attention, even in silence.“You’re still here.” His voice was deep, carrying the weight of something unreadable.Isla’s fingers curled into fists. She exhaled slowly, steadying herself before she turned to face him. He stood in the dim light, his tailored suit pristine as always, his cold gray eyes studying her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken despite herse
Last Updated : 2025-03-19Shattered Vows Chapter 39: The Weight of Regret
Killian sat in the dimly lit study of his penthouse, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The ice had long melted, leaving behind a watered-down bitterness that matched the taste in his mouth. The city skyline stretched before him, dazzling with a million lights, but none of it felt real. Not without her.His mind replayed the moment Isla had walked away. The way she had looked at him—like he was nothing. Like he was already dead to her.He had told himself he didn’t care. That he had done the right thing by keeping her at arm’s length. But the hollow ache in his chest told him otherwise.Killian clenched his jaw and threw back the rest of his drink. He had spent years perfecting the art of indifference, mastering control over every aspect of his life. Yet, for the first time, he felt utterly powerless. He had built walls around his emotions, but Isla had shattered them without even trying. Now, all that remained was an emptiness that no amount of whiskey could drown.A sharp knock on the
Last Updated : 2025-03-20Shattered Vows Chapter 40: A Battle of Wills
Isla stood at the departure gate, her heart pounding as the announcement for her flight echoed through the terminal. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her suitcase as she took a deep breath. This was it. She was finally breaking free.A part of her had foolishly believed he wouldn’t come. That he would let her go, let her slip away into the unknown. But as she turned toward the exit, her stomach dropped.Killian Blackwood stood at the entrance of the terminal, his tall, imposing figure radiating authority. His jaw was clenched, his dark eyes locked onto her like a predator who had finally found his prey. The sight of him sent a shiver down her spine.People moved around him, yet he remained still, his presence dominating the space as if time itself had paused for him. The moment their eyes met, Isla knew—he wasn’t here to say goodbye.He was here to take her back.She forced herself to move, to keep walking toward the gate, but she had barely taken three steps before a hand c
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The air inside Killian’s office was thick with tension. He stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, his back turned to Celeste as he stared blankly at the city skyline. Isla’s words haunted him, looping in his mind like a cruel melody he couldn’t silence.I refuse to be nothing.She had walked away from him, and he had let her. But the ache in his chest hadn’t faded. Instead, it had grown, festering into something unrecognizable. And now, here he was, drowning in regret while Celeste stood behind him, her presence suffocating.“I don’t know why you look so miserable, Killian,” Celeste’s voice was smooth, taunting. “You made your choice.”Killian clenched his jaw. He didn’t respond.Celeste sighed and walked closer, placing a manicured hand on his shoulder. “Isla was never right for you. She was a passing distraction. You and I, we belong together. Our families expect it. The world expects it.”He shrugged her off and turned to face her, his icy blue eyes piercing through her facade. “T
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Killian had always been a man of control, but as he sat in his office, staring blankly at the stack of contracts before him, he realized he had lost it. Isla’s absence gnawed at him, a festering wound he refused to acknowledge. Yet here he was, buried in work, pretending she hadn’t become the only thought that occupied his mind.A knock at the door disrupted his brooding. He didn’t bother looking up as Damon entered.“She’s waiting for you,” Damon announced, his voice laced with hesitation.Killian exhaled sharply. He knew exactly who ‘she’ was. Celeste.He rose, straightening his suit, and walked out of his office. As he approached the private lounge where Celeste waited, a familiar sense of exhaustion crept into his bones. He had known Celeste for years, but every moment with her felt like a performance.The doors swung open, revealing Celeste lounging on the velvet couch, a glass of champagne in hand. She looked radiant, as always—every strand of her golden hair in place, her desig
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Isla sat in the grand library of the Blackwood estate, her fingers tracing the rim of the untouched cup of tea before her. The storm outside mirrored the turmoil within her, thunder rolling across the sky like an omen. She had thought she was past this pain—past the way her heart clenched every time Killian's name came up. But the last few days had proven her wrong.She had been a fool to think that he would ever put her above his power, above his twisted loyalty to Celeste. Even after everything, even after the undeniable tension between them, he had still chosen to stay by Celeste’s side."You should eat something," Evelyn, the housekeeper, urged gently as she placed a fresh plate of food before Isla.Isla gave a hollow smile. "I’m not hungry."Evelyn sighed, concern lining her face. "You barely sleep, you barely eat. This is no way to live, dear.""I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine." Isla’s voice was clipped, a sharp contrast to the dull ache in her chest.Before Evelyn could
Last Updated : 2025-03-20
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Shattered Vows Chapter 103 - Deciphering the Silence
Isla Carter stirred her coffee with deliberate purpose, watching the dark liquid swirl in slow arcs. Across the small table, Killian Blackwood sat still, his own cup untouched, both hands wrapped around the ceramic as though it would hold him.They'd been sitting there in that strained silence for nearly ten minutes, the city sounds outside breaking through every now and then. The atmosphere was thick with all the things they weren't saying."You said you wanted to earn my trust," Isla said at last, setting her spoon down with care, her voice measured. "Start now. Be truthful. Everything. No filters. No rehearsed apologies. Just the ugly, hard truth."Killian looked back at her, and in that instant, she saw the exhaustion in his eyes—not physical, but emotional, soul-deep. He looked like a man who had finally decided to stop running from himself."I played it to be near you," he began, his tone low but clear. "It was strategy at first. You were with someone I needed to use as leverage
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The fog clung to the city in the morning like a memory that would not let go. Isla Carter leaned against the high window of her new studio apartment, coffee cup cradled in her hand, watching the fog curl and peel back from the skyline. There was something lovely about the sight. It was imperfect, cluttered with buildings and scaffolding and the ceaseless hum of the waking world. But it was hers. No penthouse dreams. No designer illusions. Just a small space, filled with second-hand furniture and the scent of jasmine from the plant she had put by the door.She had begun to rebuild.The past several weeks had graven lines of resilience onto her bones. Her mornings remained still, her nights often emptier than she'd ever dare acknowledge, but between—she was herself once more. She painted. She journaled. She met strangers who didn't recognize her history and didn't inquire. That anonymity was a gift.And Killian Blackwood.He hadn't stopped reaching out.Not strangling. No theatrics late
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The rain returned like an old memory—unwanted, but not quite unmissed.Isla Carter stood in the window of her new apartment, arms crossed, as the city disappeared behind the curtain of falling water. The soft pitter-patter on the glass should have been soothing. Instead, it woke up the weight in her chest that never really went away.She had started again, hadn't she? New apartment. New clients. New schedule that didn't involve Killian Blackwood. Her name was on the lease this time. Her name was on the company licenses. It was all hers, hers and hers alone.And yet, there were days when she caught herself waiting for him to walk through the door like he was waiting there for her. Like he used to.She brushed the idea away and turned from the window. The doorbell sounded.She hadn't been expecting anyone.She dried her hands on her slacks, Isla coming and peering through the peephole. Her heart stuttered.Killian.Raindrops dripped through the shoulders of his coat. His hair inky black
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Sunlight poured through the window of the coffee shop as Isla Carter and Killian Blackwood stepped out into the newly vacant street. The smell of rain was still in the air, fresh and infused with a gentle kind of hope. Neither of them said a word for a moment or two. It wasn't an uneasy silence but one that was heavy with the weight of all that hadn't been spoken—the past, the hurt, the what's-next."Do you want to walk a little bit?" Killian asked, his hands jammed deep in the pockets of his coat, his voice quiet.Isla nodded. "Yeah."They started walking down the sidewalk, falling into step without speaking. The city swirled around them—living, bustling—but their lives had been narrowed to this moment, this tenuous peace between them. Isla had no idea what would be next after this moment. But for the first time, she wasn't running from her feelings, and Killian wasn't hiding behind motivation.They reached the park, familiar yet altered in the way things are when viewed through diff
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The following days were filled with a tense, quiet rhythm—a condition of cautious peace. Killian Blackwood did nothing. He didn't stick around. He called every day, just a friendly calling-in: *Do you need anything? May I bring something?*Isla Carter never heard him like this. soft before. There was a reserve in his voice, as if he were pacing on thin ice, not wanting to shatter the delicate balance she'd begun to restore.She didn't always pick up. Sometimes she let the phone ring out. But she listened to the voicemails.And every night, she looked at the empty space on the other side of her bed and wondered why the pain had not lessened.On the fourth day, she opened her front door to find a package. A hardcover book sat on the welcome mat, wrapped in brown paper and twine. There was no note. But she knew it was from him.It was the same novel they'd argued about previously at that bookstore near his penthouse. The one she'd called overhyped, and he'd said she hadn't had a decent s
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The morning sun filtered through the lace curtains of Isla Carter's cottage, casting soft golden shafts that crept across the wooden floorboards. It had rained during the night, but now all was glittering with dew, as though nature itself had decided to cleanse the past.Isla awoke beneath the quilted blankets of her grandmother's old bed, her mind already racing with the events of last night. Her heart thudded with a mix of disbelief and something more tender. Not quite trust. Not yet. But its ghost.She turned her head a little and discovered Killian Blackwood sleeping in the armchair across the room, his large frame uncomfortably slouched, his head resting on the wooden back, and his dark lashes casting a shadow on his cheekbones. He looked. human. Vulnerable. Not the invincible magnate who had once discarded her like a broken deal.Just a man who had stayed.She sat up slowly, careful not to wake him. But his eyes fluttered open anyway."Morning," he murmured, his voice gravelly w
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Morning light streamed through the transparent curtains of Isla Carter's loft, casting golden threads across the wooden floor. It was quiet, peaceful, almost too still.Isla stood by the kitchen window, a cup of steaming chamomile tea held in her hands. Her eyes followed the soft sway of the trees beyond the window, but her mind was elsewhere. The words from Killian Blackwood the night before had stuck with her, each one ringing with the finality of something that could not be undone."I want to be worthy of you, Isla. Even if it takes the rest of my life.".Those words had unraveled something inside her, something she'd fought to tighten up in past months. She'd rebuilt herself from the ground up. Improved. Intelligent. But also better guarded.Yet Killian returned — not the cold, rational man who formerly considered love an exchange, but a rough, unfinished, and terrifyingly real person.There was a knock that interrupted her thoughts.She spun towards the door, already pounding wit
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The next morning, after Killian Blackwood's offer, was bright and beautiful, the kind of golden light that made all things seem fresh. Isla Carter awoke with her hand still lying softly over the engagement ring on her finger, her heart still skipping a beat in disbelief and joy. The previous night had seemed like a dream created, but the sparkle of the diamond and the heat of Killian's arms about her reminded her it was real.She rolled over in bed to find him already awake, lying on one elbow, looking at her with quiet respect."Morning, fiancée," he whispered, voice low with sleep and love.She laughed, stretching out. "Morning, fiancé."He got up and kissed her softly, his thumb tracing her cheek. "We have to get up. Big day today."She groaned. "I just want to lie here and pretend the world doesn't exist."He smiled, his face buried in her hair. "Tempting. But I promised a very clever woman that we would do something real."Her heart skipped another beat.Isla threw off the covers
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For a couple of days, it looked like the storm had actually passed.The made-up stories fell out of the headlines.A formal denial from Marcus's so-called "anonymous sources" appeared, recanting all the charges. The donors who had pulled out of Haven's Hope began calling again, bearing apologies and tentative promises of aid.The shelter breathed again.The town itself, cautiously at first, but ever more warmly, welcomed Killian Blackwood back home.But Killian wasn't the same man anymore.He'd surrendered his empire, his riches, and his fine reputation for Isla Carter.And even though he didn't resent it — not one minute of it — the weight of it came upon him now and then on nights that stretched interminable and sleepless.He didn't tell Isla everything.Not yet.Not with the phone calls he wasn't returning from old friends who now saw him as a liability.Not with the lawyers circling like vultures over the deals Marcus had bullied him into signing.Not with the creeping, insidious
