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The Honeymoon

Penulis: Daniel Ita
last update Tanggal publikasi: 2026-11-06 23:25:26

The media called it the Trial of the Century.

For six weeks, the New York Supreme Court was a circus of flashing cameras, screaming reporters, and high-profile lawyers. Victoria Krane was charged with forty-seven counts of murder, conspiracy, racketeering, and domestic terrorism. Marcus Webb, facing life in a maximum-security prison, had tried to broker a deal, offering to testify against Victoria in exchange for a reduced sentence. The FBI had laughed in his face.

The evidence against them was
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  • The Billionaire's Perfect Stranger    The Honeymoon

    The media called it the Trial of the Century.For six weeks, the New York Supreme Court was a circus of flashing cameras, screaming reporters, and high-profile lawyers. Victoria Krane was charged with forty-seven counts of murder, conspiracy, racketeering, and domestic terrorism. Marcus Webb, facing life in a maximum-security prison, had tried to broker a deal, offering to testify against Victoria in exchange for a reduced sentence. The FBI had laughed in his face.The evidence against them was airtight. My mother’s data drive, the Ashford Ledger, and Dorian’s meticulous files painted a picture of a criminal syndicate so vast and so deeply entrenched in the city’s infrastructure that it had taken the FBI, the NYPD, and a team of forensic accountants three weeks just to catalog the damage.On the final day of the trial, Victoria Krane was sentenced to five consecutive life sentences without the possibility of parole. Marcus Webb was given forty years.When the gavel fell, Victoria didn

  • The Billionaire's Perfect Stranger    The Exchange

    The silence in the bunker was deafening.Dorian stood frozen, his hand still resting on the dead radio, his face a mask of absolute devastation. I had seen him angry, I had seen him broken, but I had never seen him look so utterly defeated."She has him," Dorian repeated, his voice hollow. "She has Sebastian.""Then we get him back," I said, stepping up beside him.Dorian didn't look at me. He just stared at the blank monitor. "He's defenseless, Catherine. He's still recovering. He can't walk more than ten feet without help. If Victoria has him, she'll kill him just to hurt me.""Then we don't give her the time," Lucas said, loading a fresh magazine into his rifle. "We take the tunnel. We hit her safe house. We get him back.""It's not that simple," my mother interrupted, her voice sharp.Everyone turned to her. She was standing near the map, her fingers tracing the underground tunnel system."Victoria is expecting us to run," she said. "She knows about the tunnel. She's probably got

  • The Billionaire's Perfect Stranger    The Siege

    The first explosion shattered the tranquility of the Ashford Estate at exactly 6:14 AM.I was standing in the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee, still wearing Dorian’s oversized shirt. The blast was so powerful it rattled the windows, sending a framed photograph of my grandfather crashing to the floor."Get down!" Dorian roared, tackling me to the kitchen tiles just as a second explosion ripped through the east wing of the mansion.The sound was deafening—a roar of fire and splintering wood. The chandelier in the hallway swung wildly, glass raining down."Victoria," I gasped, my face pressed against the cold tile. "She’s here.""Lucas!" Dorian shouted into his comms, pulling me to my feet. "Status!""Multiple hostiles at the north and west perimeters!" Lucas's voice crackled through the earpiece. "They’ve got RPGs and heavy artillery. We’re pinned down!"Dorian grabbed my hand, pulling me through the smoke-filled hallway. "We have to get to the panic room. Where are your parents?""I d

  • The Billionaire's Perfect Stranger    Blood and Ashes

    The helicopter’s searchlight blinded me, casting a harsh white glare over the shattered security gate.I threw the SUV into park and shoved the door open, ignoring Dorian’s shout to wait. My heels sank into the mud as I ran toward the woman standing in the middle of the road."Mom!" I yelled, my voice tearing through the roar of the chopper blades.Elizabeth Ashford didn't flinch. She stood perfectly still, her bare feet planted on the cold asphalt, her white hospital gown billowing like a ghost in the wind. The gun in her hand was steady, her aim locked on the belly of the helicopter."Get back to the car, Catherine," she said. Her voice was raspy from disuse, but it carried the unmistakable authority of a woman who had once ruled an empire."Mom, you're going to get yourself killed! Get down!" I reached for her arm.Before I could touch her, the helicopter banked hard to the right. The side door slid open, and a man leaned out with a high-powered rifle."Elizabeth Krane!" a voice bo

  • The Billionaire's Perfect Stranger    The Matriarch

    The hospital room felt like a tomb.The rhythmic beeping of Eleanor’s heart monitor was the only sound for a long, suffocating minute. Dorian’s hand tightened around mine, his knuckles turning white."What do you mean, she's not who I think she is?" I demanded, my voice echoing off the sterile walls. "I just found her. I saw her. She's sick, Eleanor. She's been brainwashed. She barely knows her own name."Eleanor winced, shifting uncomfortably against her pillows. Lucas placed a steadying hand on her shoulder."Victor didn't just break her mind, Catherine," Eleanor said, her voice heavy with exhaustion. "He didn't just erase her memories to keep her docile. He built a cage inside her head. But before he did that, he made sure she was useful.""Useful how?" Dorian asked, his voice a dangerous, low rumble."Elizabeth Ashford," Eleanor said, looking at me. "The woman we pulled out of that compound. She isn't just our father's widow. She is the missing link to the Crane dynasty."I shook

  • The Billionaire's Perfect Stranger    The White Wedding

    The wedding was supposed to be small.Just family. Just friends. Just the people who had bled alongside us in the trenches of Victor Krane’s war.But Dorian Blackwood, even stripped of his trillion-dollar empire, was incapable of doing anything small.Three months after he proposed in the empty hallway, I stood in the bridal suite of the Ashford Estate, staring at my reflection in a floor-length antique mirror. The dress was a masterpiece—a sleek, ivory silk gown that hugged my slight bump and pooled at my feet like liquid moonlight. Eleanor stood behind me, pinning a veil made of vintage lace into my hair."You look like a ghost," Eleanor said softly, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror."A good ghost, I hope," I replied, my voice steady despite the butterflies rioting in my stomach."A beautiful ghost." She smiled, but there was a shadow in her eyes. Eleanor had been quiet for weeks, jumping at shadows, her grip on her coffee cup too tight. I knew she was still recovering from the t

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