เข้าสู่ระบบHe looks at me like he already knows the truth I’ve spent a lifetime hiding. Ethan Vance—lawman, predator, believer in a system I learned to outthink before I could drink wine. His eyes don’t burn with hate. They study, measure, almost… understand. They call him incorruptible. Maybe he is. But I’ve seen incorruptible men fall, not to money or power, but to fascination. The kind that crawls under your skin and makes you wonder if the person chasing you might be the only one who truly sees you. He hunts me by the book. I survive by rewriting it. But somewhere between the pursuit and the silence, between his questions and my lies, the line blurred. And now, I can’t decide which is more dangerous, losing to him, or wanting him to catch me. --- He isn’t what I expected. Luca Vitale walks into every room like he owns it, and maybe he does. Calm. Calculated. Dangerous in ways that don’t show up on a rap sheet. He should be just another target, another name I take down and file away. But there’s something about the way he looks at me. Like he already knows I’m not as untouchable as I pretend to be. I tell myself it’s strategy, curiosity, control. It’s not. It’s a problem. Because every time I think I’m closing in, I realise he’s already two steps ahead—and for the first time in my career, I’m not sure if I’m hunting him, or if he’s letting me try.
ดูเพิ่มเติมHer legs webbed into each other, causing her feet to wobble and trip over each other. Lunging forward and almost hitting the ground, her heartbeat skips, her mind shoots up in alert, waiting for her body to connect with the ground and feel a gruesome pain.
A miracle she's still yet to understand, or probably, an invisible angel held her, she balances herself. She stood with her hands in her hair and her legs wobbling in fear. Well, at least her boobs were safe.
She throws her phone on the king-sized bed across from her, the cause of her almost experienced tripping, ignoring the content of a message to focus more on the task at hand.
In hastened steps and with the shuffling of soft fur slippers against the white fur ground, she moves toward the window that causes the lilac curtains to sway and dance to the tune of the cool night breeze.
She cast a quick glance outside at the starry night before moving on to hold the white window handle and close it shut. She definitely isn't in the mood to admire stars. She would have done that, but her light and joyous mood had been polluted by a so-called unknown Anonymous message sender, speaking of a devil in disguise.
Running her hands through her auburn hair, she makes her way back to her bed with sloped shoulders. She plops into the bed with a loud sigh, causing the bed to dip in.
After about some unexplainable minutes of staring into space, she kicks off her pink kitty cat fur slippers and reaches for her phone, her slippers hitting the ground with a soft thud.
Dulce's gaze once again moved across the content of a message from an anonymous, hidden number. The content of the message looks extremely similar to that one particular message she had once received a month ago. Dulce didn't need a soothsayer before she could know is the same person at it again.
She scoffed, a soft and almost quiet one.
The audacity. The audacity of the stranger– The guts to repeat this foolish act. Wasn't the first one enough?
Dulce wasn't one to be fooled. She was almost fooled the first time she got the message, but not this time. She tapped her ice-cream inspired manicured nails nervously on her phone.
This time, she concluded, she wasn't going to show her father the disgusting message from the stranger. She would keep it to herself.
She heaved a sigh and dropped her hands with her phone onto her joined laps. Her mind begins to swim in memories and flashbacks. She could still remember that day perfectly well. That day, when the stranger anonymously sent her a message, urging her to stop being a daddy's girl and get married. Being naive and stupid, or so as she thought, she showed the message to Father, but instead he laughed it out saying it's a girls joke from her friends and nothing serious.
How foolish she was then. How foolish of her to have thought her father would defend her. She was so naive and innocent. She had thought her father would try to take justice for her, but it was the other way around.
She snaps back into reality, burying every inch of that memory deep into the sea. She wasn't in the mood to overthink things with the message from the anonymous sender.
Dulce stretches her hand toward the bedside table to drop her phone. Her phone, a few inches away from her hand toward the table, buzzes.
Her face scrunched up in annoyance. All she wanted was sleep, but then, her phone had buzzed before she could even set it down. She squints her eyes as she takes a peak at the new message that entered.
She shoots up from her bed as her mind processes the message from the so-called annoymous again.
“You sure don't know why you can't leave your father's back, Shouldn't you be asking yourself why?” Meet me at the hospital, the one in the next three block in 30 minutes, if you want to see me and get answers.
She runs her both hands through her disheveled long auburn hair, her mind now in disarray. First, what would she wear? All these thoughts ran through her head.
As if woken from a daze, she makes a dash out of her bed, flipping her blanket to the other side of the bed, but, accidentally, it hits the floor instead.
She didn't care how she looked at the moment. Well, she actually didn't care until she arrived in front of the hospital.
She wrapped her arms around herself as she walked in hurried steps toward the storey building. Her steps were calculated and in style as she struggled to hide her mismatched slippers. How could she have been careless? She murmured silent prayers. Prayers that all the lit lights would die, so she could be free to walk around in her disheveled state.
Her prayers weren't answered.
Her breathing hitched and in the blink of an eye, her inner demons broke out at the new scene in front of her.
She saw no sign of nobody in there, but right after her side was a poster clearly written “Go and marry, daddy won't always save!”
Tears gently dropped from her lid, isn't it getting too much already. She asked herself when she staggered her way out of the building and meet a man standing on the entrance.
The tall man looked at her with the quirk of an eyebrow. His expression showed no ounce of goodness but flirt. He bit his lower lip as he stood akimbo.
“How dare you? You are the damn anonymous!” She rushed and kicked him. Her face looked swollen, and she was trying so hard to keep her tears from falling.
She was looking pained and desperate. She wasn't supposed to act like that.
She didn't hear the echo of the sound, but the sting she felt afterward made her come back to reality and remove her gaze from the man in front of her.
“Feeling any better now?” An unknown, familiar commanding voice said.
Her blurry eyes made contact with a lady on the mask, giving her a murderous look.
She didn't need to argue further with them, she already knew her place. They'd kill her and it'll be a story end.
She looked down at her slippers and smirked. A smirk that brought down tears with it and a little smile on her grin as she grasps the sand and threw it at the two and ran as fast as possible to hide, smiling to herself at their painful groans.
''Nobody plays with Dulce and goes Scot free!'' She praised herself but again can't forget what has happened to her, she broke into a hot tear.
She needs a moment, somewhere far from home and lift her spirit, Just then a taxi came bye and she stopped it right away.
''Please take me to any Club far from here, some guys are after me…!'' not finishing the word, she hopped in, not minding if she heard him or what.
The driver chucked a little bit, ignited his engine and speed off.
Chapter 110: A Clean Slate The Nova Terra farmhouse greeted them with the tired look of a place that had been waiting too long for someone to care about it. The walls were dusty. The air smelled faintly of damp wood, forgotten seasons and quiet neglect. Old floorboards creaked under their steps like an elderly man clearing his throat. Yet to Luca and Ethan, it was perfect. It was not a palace, not a hideout and not a battlefield. It was a physical representation of their new beginning. It was something they would have to build from the ground up, slowly and honestly, side by side, without secrets between them. The first month became a ritual of manual labour that felt almost therapeutic. Every morning started the same way. There were no coded messages. No urgent phone calls. No surveillance sweeps. No maps are spread out on tables. Instead, they woke up to coffee, the quiet hum of the old heater and a detailed to-do list taped to the refrigerator. The list grew longer each day, yet
Chapter 109: New World Three months passed on the island of São Tomé, and the days slid over each other like smooth stones. The world outside kept spinning, loud and restless, but none of that touched Ethan Davies or Liam Sterling. The headlines screamed about the Petrov Ledger scandal. Maxwell’s arrest became the story of the month. The Deputy Attorney General resigned in disgrace. Politicians shouted on the news. Commentators argued. Reporters chased leads. Yet all that noise felt far away, as if happening in a different universe. For Ethan and Liam, life narrowed to the little rented house and the wide coffee plantation around it. The air smelled of soil, roasted beans, and warm rain. The same birds sang every morning. The same soft breeze curled through the open windows at night. Days became routines. Routines became comfort. They spent the mornings working on their new identities. They practised their backstories until they felt natural. They repeated their fake timelines unt
Chapter 107: Elena’s Closure Luca sat inside the old 4x4, parked deep in the shadows of the São Tomé jungle. The thick air pressed around him, warm and heavy with the smell of wet soil and blooming flowers. A layer of humidity clung to his skin, yet he barely noticed it. His attention was locked on the satellite phone in his hands. It was small, silent and unremarkable, but it held the last living link to his sister. It was the final thread connecting him to a world he had burned to the ground. Days had passed since the news reached him through The Counsellor. Elena had been cleared. The federal charges evaporated once her lawyer exposed the truth. She was not a conspirator. She was a grieving sister who had been twisted by Maxwell’s ambition and fear. Washington found itself drowning in its own corruption scandal, and no one wanted to pin guilt on a woman the public now saw as a victim. The government let her go. The media shifted. And Elena walked free. Luca breathed slowly, ca
Chapter 108: Burning the Ships The sun dipped below the equator and cast a harsh glow over the western sky of São Tomé. The bright orange bled into deep violet until the horizon looked like something torn between fire and night. The world felt suspended between two colours, and for the first time in a long time, silence did not feel dangerous. Luca and Ethan stood on the deck of the Ithaca. The yacht sat still in the quiet bay, unmoving, almost peaceful. It had been prepared for its final task, a task that would remove the last trace of the lives they once lived. The sea was calm and the wind gentle. Everything looked normal. Yet both men felt the weight of the moment tighten around them. Ethan breathed in the warm air and let his gaze sweep across the empty water. A sense of peace, real peace, settled into him. It sank deep into a part of his chest that had been tight for years. “We finished the legal work,” he said. “We said goodbye to everyone who needed a goodbye. We destroyed
Chapter 101: Giuseppe’s Shadow The first shell burst fifty yards astern of the Ithaca, a jagged column of seawater spiralling into the night sky before collapsing back onto the deck with a metallic slap. The impact was purely psychological, a warning more than a weapon, but the concussive shock ra
Chapter 102: The Sea Battle The smugglers’ channel was a nightmare in motion. The Ithaca bucked like a wounded animal as it scraped rocks for the second time, the violent shudder tearing through the hull and straight into Ethan’s ribs. His breath hitched, sharp and painful, but he gripped the con
Chapter 106: Safe Harbour The journey stretched across seven long days. It felt like a strange mix of forced rest and constant alertness, the kind that kept both men caught between exhaustion and survival. The Ithaca travelled silently across the South Atlantic, running without lights and refusin
Chapter 105: Quid Pro Quo Two days after the chaos had surged through Washington, the world felt strangely quiet. The storm had passed, but its echo still trembled through every corridor of power. The headlines kept screaming about betrayal, espionage and the fall of men who once believed themsel
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