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12: AMAYA’S POV
公開日:
2026-03-30 00:59:31
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THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 73: Nathaniel
My boots slammed against the cold marble floor of the subterranean corridor, each impact sending a jarring shockwave straight up my spine. The freezing air of the server vault was a distant memory, replaced by the hot, suffocating rush of pure adrenaline. I didn't stop to use the internal comms; the security of the primary network lines was fundamentally compromised, a radio transmission would broadcast my findings to the snake. I tore through the double oak doors leading into the executive wing, my sidearm rattling against its tactical holster. "Out of the way!" I barked at the two vanguard sentries guarding the master study, throwing my shoulder directly into the heavy brass plates of the door. The door burst open with a violent crash. Bane was standing behind his mahogany desk, a tactical layout of the valley checkpoints spread before him. He snapped his head up, his dark eyes instantly flashing with a lethal, predatory irritation at my unannounced breach. "Natha
THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 72: Nathaniel
The green digital clock on the master console flickered to 3:42 AM. My eyes burned, the bloodshot vessels scratching against my eyelids every time I blinked. Before me sat three separate high-definition monitors, each displaying dense, unrolled matrices of biometric data, keycard overrides, and encrypted sub-routines. I was up all night going through hundreds of files, his fingers moving across the mechanical keyboard with a stiff, algorithmic precision. My uncle’s threat in the monitoring room had been an absolute command: ‘find the contaminant, or become the casualty.’ But the real battle wasn't against the mole. It was against the ghost haunting the interior of my own mind. I kept thinking of Amaya. Her hair, her eyes, the sound of her laugh and how gorgeous she looked with very little effort. I slammed my fist flat against the edge of the steel desk, the heavy impact rattling the porcelain coffee mug. "Get a grip," I growled into the empty room, my voice sound
THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 71: Bane
The heavy mahogany desk in my private monitoring room was buried under layers of internal personnel files, biometric access histories, and the handwritten security schedules`. I sat perfectly still, my arms crossed over my chest, my dark eyes fixed entirely on the man standing across the room. Nathaniel stood at perfect military attention, his jaw tightly set, his black tactical uniform immaculate. He didn't look at the files on my desk, and he didn't look at the live security feeds rotating behind my head. He looked like an iron statue, a perfect instrument of the Valak empire but the raw, bleeding exhaustion behind his eyes told a completely different story. "You've reviewed the technical data from the northern border wiretap, Nathaniel?" I asked, my voice completely level. "I have, Uncle," Nathaniel responded, his delivery professional, and completely deadpan. I stood up slowly, my massive frame casting a long, intimidating shadow over the glass table. I stepp
THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 70: Amaya
I stood in the center of my private dressing room, staring blankly at the dark burgundy blazer draped over the back of the velvet armchair. There was no reason to stare but it was the only thing I could focus on. Just two days ago, I had worn that jacket like armor, standing beside Bane in his office and strongly claiming him as my man. I had felt untouchable then. I had felt like a woman who had finally seized control of her own destiny in this world. But now, the hollow ache radiating from within me made that victory feel incredibly brittle. I thought of Nathaniel. He had been the only friend that I had here. He was a kind man to me and a true confidant. But now, every time our eyes met, his eyes would be completely devoid of the warmth that had once been my only anchor in this house. He actively avoided me and treated me like a stranger. And when I had chosen to be Bane’s woman, I knew that I had completely shattered Nathaniel’s heart. Regina had assur
THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 69: Victor
The concrete walls of the safehouse basement sweated cold moisture, matching the freezing adrenaline pumping through my veins. The air was heavy with the suffocating stench of cheap cigars, gunpowder solvent, and the bitter copper tang of my own absolute fury. I was infuriated to see my men just idling by.I slammed my hand down onto the scarred wooden table.“What the hell do you lot think you’re doing?!”All of them immediately shot to their feet. "Look at this mess! Clean it up!" I roared, pointing a trembling finger at Marcus, who stood near the iron door with his head bowed. "Don't just stand there like a brainless target, Marcus! Clean it up and tell me why the communication arrays haven't established the secure satellite proxy yet!" "We are doing everything we can, Boss," Marcus muttered, his voice tight as he stepped forward. He avoided my eyes, completely aware that my rage was a live wire waiting to electrocute anyone who stepped too close. “Your best? What best?!”"T
THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 68: Bane
The heavy double doors of the conference room had barely clicked shut behind Susan’s frantic exit before I let out a low chuckle that rumbled from the very depths of my chest. Amaya was standing by the large mahogany liquor cabinet, pouring herself a fresh glass of brandy. She still looked entirely composed. Still, the tension in her shoulders told me the territorial fire she had unleashed on Susan hadn't completely burned out yet. "You terrified her, you know," I said, stepping up behind her. “Is that so?” I reached out, my hands settling firmly on her waist, pulling her back against my chest. "Susan has stood before international tribunals and stared down federal prosecutors without breaking a sweat. Yet you had her trembling over a fountain pen within three minutes." Amaya tilted her head back against my shoulder, her eyes meeting mine in the reflection of the glass window. "She was crossing the line, Bane. She was looking at you like she would eat you up. I
THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 62: BANE’S POV
The dining room plunged into a silence so profound it was painful. The only sound in the vaulted space was the sharp, metallic click of my wine glass stem snapping. It fractured between my thumb and forefinger, spilling the expensive red vintage like fresh blood onto the pristine white linen tab
THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 60: BANE’S POV
"Nathaniel," I barked, my eyes never leaving the stunned, pale face of Amaya’s father as her footsteps faded down the western gallery. “Yes, Uncle?” He replied. "Handle things with Victor. Disarm his front line, secure their communication array, and escort our.……,” I stared daggers at Victor
THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 59: AMAYA’S POV
I stood in the absolute center of the standoff, my bare feet cold against the marble floor. On one side, my father’s mercenaries kept their assault weapons leveled; on the other, Bane stood like an unyielding mountain of stone. I couldn’t believe what was happening at the moment. My father
THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 58: BANE’S POV
A suffocating, icy panic clawed its way up my throat. It was a feeling that so completely foreign to my nature that it nearly choked me. Internally, I was profoundly, desperately worried. I hate to admit it but I was scared. Nathaniel had just backed me into the most dangerous corner of my
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