Elena
It’s strange how the world continues like nothing happened.How cars still move, how people still laugh, how the air smells the same—even after yours has been completely shattered.Three weeks had passed since the exposé aired. Three weeks since the world learned who Jason Hart truly was. Since the man who once called me his everything had become a global pariah.But justice doesn’t heal trauma. Truth doesn’t stitch up betrayal. And revenge… revenge only quiets the ache for a little while.I stood at the edge of the balcony in a quiet cottage we’d rented far from Zurich. The mountains loomed in the distance, snow still dusting the peaks. Noah was inside, humming to a cartoon. For now, he was happy. Safe. Untouched by the storm that had nearly swallowed us whole.But me? I was still haunted by the last face I saw before I fled the safehouse.Victor Thorne.The bullet that killed Kate might’ve been meant for me.And I would never forget the loElenaEvery breath I took felt like borrowed time.We drove for hours through the French countryside, silent but wired, the kind of silence that thrummed with urgency. Lucas kept checking the rearview mirror, his knuckles white around the steering wheel. I held the flash drive like it was a beating heart. Jason was gone. Again. But this time, I wasn’t mourning him—I was carrying his final redemption.Or maybe it was mine.By dawn, we were tucked into a remote villa outside Avignon, owned by one of Lucas’s old clients—someone rich, paranoid, and long vanished from the public eye. The kind of person who knew how to disappear.The villa was surrounded by high stone walls and olive groves. There were security systems, encrypted routers, and enough backup generators to last weeks. A fortress.“You’ll be safe here,” Lucas said. “At least until we decide what to do with that.” He nodded at the flash drive in my hand.I sank into a chair by the window and stared
ElenaThe train ride to Paris was quiet, too quiet for the thoughts screaming inside my head.Lucas wanted to come, of course. He didn’t trust Jason—not even an inch. But this wasn’t his war anymore. Not like it was mine.I needed to see Jason with my own eyes.I needed to look into the face of the man I once loved and ask him one final question: Why?Why did he betray me?Why did he tear our family apart?Why had I let myself believe I was safe in the arms of a man who had mastered the art of deception?The streets of Le Marais were damp with rain when I stepped out of the cab. The Rue Saint-Paul apartment hadn’t changed. Ornate shutters. Ivy clinging to the balcony. The memory of quiet Sunday mornings came rushing back, uninvited.I hated how much it still felt like home.My fingers trembled as I typed the entry code.The door clicked open.And just like that, I was back in the place where everything started to fall apart.He was
ElenaThe video haunted me.Jason’s hollow confession replayed in my mind like a broken loop. His voice, ragged and stripped of charm, was the voice of a man hunted—not by law, but by something darker. Something that still lived in the shadows Victor Thorne left behind.“It’s not over. Not yet.”Those words stayed with me long after Lucas and I left the estate. Neither of us spoke during the drive back. There was nothing to say that could make sense of any of it.But I wasn’t scared anymore.I was angry.Tired.Done being a puppet in someone else’s game.Back at the cottage, I paced while Lucas sat on the couch, watching me like I might snap at any moment.“I need to find him,” I said.“Elena—”“I don’t mean to save him,” I cut in. “I need to understand what the hell is still going on. If Jason’s alive, then someone’s protecting him. Someone worse than Victor, possibly funding this entire operation.”Lucas sighed, rubbing his jaw.
ElenaIt’s strange how the world continues like nothing happened.How cars still move, how people still laugh, how the air smells the same—even after yours has been completely shattered.Three weeks had passed since the exposé aired. Three weeks since the world learned who Jason Hart truly was. Since the man who once called me his everything had become a global pariah.But justice doesn’t heal trauma. Truth doesn’t stitch up betrayal. And revenge… revenge only quiets the ache for a little while.I stood at the edge of the balcony in a quiet cottage we’d rented far from Zurich. The mountains loomed in the distance, snow still dusting the peaks. Noah was inside, humming to a cartoon. For now, he was happy. Safe. Untouched by the storm that had nearly swallowed us whole.But me? I was still haunted by the last face I saw before I fled the safehouse.Victor Thorne.The bullet that killed Kate might’ve been meant for me.And I would never forget the lo
ElenaThe snow was thick beneath my boots, but I barely felt it. My legs moved on instinct, fueled by panic, by pain, by raw, unfiltered rage. Every branch that whipped my face reminded me—Kate was gone. Shot down by the very man who once pretended to be a benefactor. A mentor. A protector.Victor Thorne.I don’t remember how long I ran. The woods blurred. My breath left white clouds in the freezing air. Behind me, I could still hear the echo of gunfire, though I didn’t know if it was memory or real. Noah whimpered in my arms, his cheek pressed to my shoulder. I whispered soothing things I didn’t believe.When I stumbled out of the trees and onto a winding back road, a pair of headlights nearly blinded me. The driver slammed on the brakes. I waved frantically, cried out, and begged. And somehow, despite everything, the car stopped.The farmhouse was old but warm. The woman who took us in was quiet, stern, her face lined with suspicion and wisdom. She didn’t ask q
People talk about betrayal like it’s a clean wound. Sharp. Immediate. But they forget the slow burn of deception—the kind that festers inside you until it consumes everything you thought was real.As I stood in the middle of Victor’s office, surrounded by his secrets, I realized something terrifying: I had never truly known the man I married.His mahogany desk, perfectly organized. His certificates, plaques, and polished smiles—every piece carefully curated. A façade. A mask.I glanced down at the flash drive in my hand—given to me by my investigator. Inside it was everything: fake accounts, offshore transfers, encrypted conversations. It wasn’t just an affair. It was a web of lies spun with criminal precision.And I was tangled in it.My phone vibrated. A text from Elliot:“Seraphina. Where are you? You shouldn’t be alone.”I replied quickly:“At his office. I need to see it for myself.”Within seconds, he called.“What if he finds you there?
Elena There was a time I believed I had control. That if I was careful, cautious, composed—I could steer my life through anything. But control is an illusion, one I watched crumble the moment Daniel Hart lied to my face and Sophie Lane slithered into my marriage like a serpent in silk. Now, there’s only survival. And revenge. Zurich offered momentary quiet, but even the Swiss alps can’t muffle the screams of betrayal echoing in my bones. Snow fell gently outside the chalet safehouse, a beautiful mask for the chaos churning inside. Noah was finally asleep, curled up beside a stuffed tiger he refused to let go of since the day we fled. I stood near the window, phone in hand, staring at the encrypted message I’d just received. Unknown Number: We found something. Call me. -Lucas My heart skipped. Lucas. My old flame. My reluctant ally. The man who’d stepped back into my life just as Daniel was tearing it apart. I dialed. He answered on the first ring. “You’re not going to like thi
ElenaI used to believe the sky offered freedom.But now, flying thousands of feet above the ground, all I could feel was the pressure—on my chest, my thoughts, my future.Noah lay curled against me in the small cabin seat, his little hand resting on my lap like an anchor. The soft hum of the jet did nothing to quiet the storm still raging in my head.Kate sat across from us, arms folded, gaze fixed on the clouds. She hadn’t said a word since we took off, but her mind was clearly racing. I could see it in the way her jaw tightened with every passing second.“Where are we going?” I asked finally, breaking the silence.“Zurich. Safehouse. Temporary. I have contacts there,” she replied without looking at me.“And then what? Do we keep running for the rest of our lives?”“No. Once the files go viral—and they will—we’ll have leverage. They’ll be too busy covering their tracks to chase us.”I scoffed. “That’s naive. Jason’s not the type to let go. And n
ElenaI didn’t sleep.Even with the power restored and the sun rising behind the pines, a shadow lingered in my chest. Like an instinct. A whisper that told me—they’re coming.Kate didn’t sleep either. She sat by the fire, laptop open on her knees, scanning files with the intensity of a soldier on a mission. She hadn’t spoken a word since the blackout, but her silence was louder than any scream.Noah stirred on the couch and I moved quickly to his side, smoothing back his curls.“Mom?” he whispered groggily.“I’m here, baby. You’re safe.”He blinked at me. “Why are you holding a flashlight?”I smiled. “Just a power cut. Nothing to worry about.”He accepted the answer and drifted back to sleep.I envied him. That kind of peace. That kind of trust in the person holding your world together.I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep pretending to be strong.Kate stood suddenly, snapping her laptop shut.“I got it,” she said. “The full