LOGINChapter 131 Nikolai's POV It had been a hell of a ride for me these past few months. I sat in my car, parked far enough from Ethan's beach house that I wouldn't be spotted but close enough that I had a clear view of the upstairs windows. The sun was just beginning to rise over the ocean, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold that should have been beautiful but just felt mocking. I'd been here all night. Watching. Waiting. Torturing myself. I genuinely loved Cynthia. Had from the moment I first saw her, though I'd tried to deny it, tried to convince myself it was just professional admiration or passing attraction. It had been during my father's birthday celebration at her restaurant in Paris—Maison Cynclair. I'd gone reluctantly, expecting another tedious family obligation filled with forced conversation and mediocre food. Instead, I'd met her. She'd come out of the kitchen personally to greet my father and when she'd stood there in her chef's whites, hair pulled
Chapter 130 Cynthia's POV We were deep asleep in the beach house that morning, our bodies tangled together in the large bed upstairs, the sound of waves crashing against the shore and birds chirping outside creating a peaceful symphony that had lulled us into the deepest sleep I'd had in years. The events of last night felt like a fever dream — the gunshot, the dead waiter, the frantic drive to escape, and then... then what had happened between us in this house. Now, in the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, I could feel Ethan's warmth beside me, his arm draped possessively across my waist, his breath steady and even against my neck. For a moment I let myself enjoy it. Let myself pretend we were just a normal couple waking up together, that there was no divorce pending, no attempted murder to deal with, no complications waiting for us back in the real world. Then Ethan's phone buzzed. Once. Twice. Three times in rapid succession. He stirred beside me, groaning
Chapter 129 Anna's POVI was restless, pacing back and forth in my apartment like a caged animal, my phone clutched in my trembling hand, waiting for an update.The plan had been simple. Clean. A single shot at a public event where chaos would provide the perfect cover for escape. By the time security figured out what had happened, Cynthia would be dead and the shooter would be long gone, lost in the panicked crowd.Simple.Except my phone had been silent for over an hour now, and the silence was eating me alive.I'd turned on the news — every channel, flipping between them obsessively — but there was nothing yet. No breaking news alerts about a shooting at the holiday party. No emergency broadcasts. Nothing.What the hell was taking so long?Finally… finally — my phone rang.I answered before the first ring finished. "Tell me it's done.""I missed." His voice was flat, emotionless, delivering the news like he was reporting the weather.My blood ran cold. "What?""I missed the hit. E
Chapter 128 Cynthia’s POV “Kiss me again.” The words tore out of me, raw and ragged, a command born from years of starvation. Ethan’s response was immediate, brutal like he had been expecting me to say that, like he was actually wishing he hadn't cut off that kiss back in the car, and perhaps done what he needed to do there. I knew he wanted me, I could see it through his pants in the car when he kissed me. His mouth slammed into mine, teeth clashing, tongue invading like he owned me, like he was reclaiming every inch he’d neglected. I tasted the desperation we’d both buried for too long. I clawed at his shirt, buttons popping, fabric ripping as I yanked it open. His hands were just as savage, fisting my hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat. He bit down hard on the tendon there, sucking until I cried out, the pain blooming into fire that shot straight between my legs. We crashed onto the couch by the fireplace, the leather cold against my back until his weight pinn
Chapter 127 Cynthia's POV I was convinced that bullet was meant for me. I knew it to my bones, with absolute certainty. Someone was trying to killme and that young waiter had died because he'd been standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Why would anyone want me dead? Yes, there was Anna and her schemes, but attempted murder? That seemed too extreme, too far beyond even her desperate obsession. I was lost in these thoughts, my mind spinning in circles of logic and fear, barely aware of my surroundings as Ethan dragged me through the chaos of the event. People were screaming, running in all directions. Someone was shouting about calling 911. A woman was sobbing hysterically. Security guards appeared from nowhere, trying to establish control, trying to find the shooter. But Ethan wasn't waiting. He was moving with singular focus, his hand gripping mine so tightly it hurt, his body positioned between me and the rest of the room like a human shield. He was so alert, his he
Chapter 126 Cynthia's POV It was Mr. Brown's event day, and I'd spent an embarrassing amount of time getting ready. I told myself it was just professional courtesy—dressing appropriately for a business event. But as I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, adjusting the deep pink silk gown that hugged my curves before flowing elegantly to the floor, I knew I was lying to myself. I wanted to look stunning. Wanted to take Ethan's breath away. Wanted to remind him that I was no longer the invisible housewife he'd taken for granted. The dress had a tasteful V-neckline and a slit up one thigh that showed just enough leg to be sophisticated rather than provocative. I'd paired it with simple diamond earrings and strappy silver heels that added three inches to my height. My hair was swept up in an elegant chignon, a few strategic tendrils framing my face. My makeup was flawless—smoky eyes, nude lips, a subtle glow that made my skin look luminous. I looked good. Really good. "Wow," Hel







