Emilia is no longer just a pawn in Lucien’s world, she’s stepping into the role of a weapon, sharp and silent beneath soft skin. This chapter marks a turning point in her evolution: trust laced with strategy, desire cloaked in danger. Her love for Lucien isn’t weakness, it’s becoming her edge. As secrets thicken and loyalties twist, the true enemy may be closer than either of them realizes. Thank you for reading! 💔🔥 What did you think of Emilia’s move? Do you have theories about who the mole might be? I love hearing your thoughts, drop them below and let’s unravel this web together.
The estate of Santiago de la Cruz was not built for men like him.It loomed over the valley like a relic of a time before greed had names and crime wore silk. Old stone, iron gates, and a silence that whispered of blood soaked into the roots of the land. The guards didn’t search him when he arrived. They didn’t need to. Men like the Vulture didn’t get this far unless the king inside allowed it.He adjusted his cufflinks as he was led through arched corridors, past statues of saints and sinners, each one cracked by age or battle. Santiago’s legacy. Etched in stone. Revered in silence.The Vulture hated it.Because it reminded him of what he didn’t have.No name carved in marble. No bloodline. No sons who bore his mark. Just ambition and a tongue sharp enough to carve kingdoms from empires.He was ushered into a grand courtyard, where Santiago de la Cruz sat beneath an olive tree, dressed in linen and shadow, sipping espresso like a man who had never once spilled blood, though the world
Lucien didn’t speak a word as they walked back to their wing.Every guard they passed along the way stood straighter, stiffer, as if sensing the storm that still brewed under his skin. His grip on her hand was ironclad, tight, possessive, but trembling ever so slightly. She could feel it in his palm, that silent fury laced with something else. Fear. Not for himself…For her.That realization struck her harder than she expected.The man beside her, ruthless, calculated, and always in control, had been scared.Not because she defied him.Not because she slipped past his guards.But because he thought she’d been taken.Abducted.Gone.Emilia kept her gaze forward, but her chest ached. She hadn’t meant to scare him. But still, the weight of his silence haunted her.When they reached the doors to their room, Lucien pushed them open with a swift flick of his wrist. The guards followed behind them, Matteo and Diego, who led the team assigned to keep her in sight, their faces carved from ston
Lucien stalked the west wing with the fury of a storm caged in a man’s skin. Every hallway, every corner, every shadow was under his scrutiny. His men swept the estate with military precision, reports crackling through radios, but none of them said the only word he wanted to hear.Emilia.She had disappeared under his roof.Disappeared under his protection.Santiago’s warning hadn’t even cooled in his chest, and now this.Every step thundered with dread and rage. The moment he saw the camera feed glitch, Julio’s update, her form vanishing from the frame, something in him had cracked.And now, as he pushed through the far end of the west wing, his instincts flared.There.The scent of her perfume.Light. Faint. But real.Lucien rounded the last corner, and stopped dead in his tracks.She was walking toward him. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw him.Safe.Unharmed.Alive.“Emilia,” Lucien choked out.She smiled slowly at the sound of his voice, her expression surprised at first, then
The hallway to Lucien’s private wing was quiet, too quiet for a house that pulsed with power and armed silence. His steps were quick, sharp against the marble, every motion honed with purpose. His mind was already ahead of him, past the doors, to Emilia. What he would say. How he would hold her after the madness of the past long hours.He admitted to himself he missed her. Ached for her. Longed so hard it clawed at his chest.He had just turned the corner when one of the guards stationed near the central stairs stepped forward, expression tense.“Boss,” the man said. “A package arrived for you. It’s in your study.”Lucien slowed. “Vetted?”“Yes, sir. Thoroughly. Cleared for chemical agents, biological traces, even explosives. We ran full protocol, sniffer dogs, thermal scans. It’s clean.”Clean.Lucien didn’t reply. He turned on his heel without hesitation, boots echoing as he took the long path toward the west side of the estate, his private study.He hadn’t seen Emilia since his ret
The city blurred beyond the car windows, streaks of amber and dusk passing in silence. Lucien sat back against the leather seat, eyes sharp, hand resting against his jaw. His thoughts were already home, Emilia’s scent, her skin, the tension she’d left behind in the car like perfume on his tongue.The phone rang.Julio glanced at the screen and answered without hesitation. “Matteo.”Lucien turned slightly, his eyes narrowing.Julio listened, brows furrowed. Then, he held the phone toward Lucien. “You’ll want to take this.”Lucien didn’t speak until the phone touched his ear. “Talk.”Matteo’s voice came steady. “We have a visitor at the estate. Said he won’t leave until he speaks with you.”Lucien’s fingers curled around the phone. “Name.”“Raúl Navarro. Runs a syndicate out of the south, cross border routes, arms, narcotics, heavy bribes in local governments. Kept low until recently.”Lucien leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “He came without warning.”“Uninvited. Says
The estate had never felt this quiet.Not when Lucien was home. Not when his presence moved through its corridors like thunder wrapped in silk. But now that he was gone, the silence clung to the walls, pressing in around Emilia as she moved slowly through the halls, two security men trailing her like shadows.She didn’t acknowledge them. She didn’t need to.She was used to being watched.The air carried the faintest scent of cigar smoke and leather-bound power, Lucien’s office lay just ahead. The door was slightly ajar, the wood heavy and dark, a warning in its own right. It felt almost wrong to enter without him, but something tugged at her chest.Curiosity or instinct, she couldn’t tell which was louder.She slipped inside.The guards stayed at the door, just as they were trained to do. Inside, the room was immaculate in its masculinity: shelves of law books, strategic maps on the walls, weapons displayed like art, and a massive desk that commanded the space like a throne.She ran h