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Chapter 31
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2025-05-15 18:00:50Chapter 31: Napalm and Nicotine
Adrian's POV
The garden was too perfectly trimmed, like even the grass had to pass some unspoken Laurent standard or be exiled. The hedges formed clean lines that screamed money and soullessness. I lit a cigarette just to see something imperfect in the scenery.
It flared with that satisfying hiss.
Footsteps behind me.
Of course.
I didn't turn. Just took another drag, letting the smoke curl into the cool night air like a whisper I couldn't say aloud. If it could write words, maybe it would spell out all the things I wasn't allowed to say at dinner.
"Why are you here?" I asked, voice flat, flicking ash into the breeze. "You're leaving your precious
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Chapter 34: Whispered HeadlinesElise's POVThe room buzzed faintly in the background—keyboards clicking, phones buzzing, and the hum of coffee machines blending with distant banter. It was the kind of white noise that usually helped me focus.But not today.My eyes flicked back to the blinking cursor on my laptop, unmoving on a half-finished paragraph. My thoughts were tangled somewhere far from politics or exposés—back in that hallway, beneath soft light and near silence, when Adrian had leaned in—"Elise," Isla said, setting a coffee cup near my hand. Her voice was quiet but firm. "You seem out of sorts.""What?" I blinked, too quickly.She raised an
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Chapter 33: The Quiet BetweenElise's POVI froze, eyes wide.My breath caught in my throat, and every fiber of me screamed to say something—anything. But all I managed was:"Good night."Adrian looked like he was still catching his breath too. His eyes searched mine for a beat longer before he nodded, voice low."Night."I stood up on stiff legs and turned away. Before I could reach the guestroom, I heard the soft flop of his head falling into his hands, then a long, tired sigh.I didn't turn back.Once inside, I closed the door behind me and shoved my head down into the nearest pillow,
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Chapter 32: Someone Like HomeAdrian's POVThe penthouse was dark, save for the faint amber glow of the bar lamp. Everything else had melted into shadows—the kind that hugged too close and whispered too much.I sat slouched on the sofa, head down, glass of vodka in hand. Third? Fourth? I lost count somewhere after the second. After the burn stopped feeling like punishment and started feeling like numb.God, that dinner.It was like being buried alive with people handing you flowers and calling it love.Fake smiles, curated questions, and Vivienne's laugh—sharp, metallic, like broken glass dressed in lace.I never felt more like a ghost in my own family.
The Face of Revenge Chapter 31
Chapter 31: Napalm and NicotineAdrian's POVThe garden was too perfectly trimmed, like even the grass had to pass some unspoken Laurent standard or be exiled. The hedges formed clean lines that screamed money and soullessness. I lit a cigarette just to see something imperfect in the scenery.It flared with that satisfying hiss.Footsteps behind me.Of course.I didn't turn. Just took another drag, letting the smoke curl into the cool night air like a whisper I couldn't say aloud. If it could write words, maybe it would spell out all the things I wasn't allowed to say at dinner."Why are you here?" I asked, voice flat, flicking ash into the breeze. "You're leaving your precious
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Chapter 30: The Bloodline's FinestAdrian's POVThe room shifted when the elevator dinged—yes, the elevator, in a two-story house, because apparently stairs were beneath the gods of the Laurent bloodline.Then came the footsteps. Heavy. Punctual. Judgmental.Henri Laurent didn't walk into a room. He arrived, like the second coming of someone no one prayed for.He barely glanced at anyone as he took in the stilled crowd near the long dining table. His eyes landed on me last."What are you all standing there for?" His voice thundered like we'd all committed treason by breathing.Then, his gaze sharpened. "You're back?"I smirked.
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Chapter 29: Smoke and MirrorsAdrian's POV"You're going to strangle yourself," Elise said, stepping closer.I stilled, hands mid-knot, as she reached up and took over. Her fingers were careful but confident, brushing the collar of my shirt, grazing my throat."I can do it," I muttered."You can, sure," she murmured. "But it would look like a war crime."I didn't answer. Not because she wasn't right, but because her hands were too close—too warm. Each time her fingers tugged the silk of my tie, my breath snagged.She glanced down at the tie she was knotting, brows lightly furrowed. "Why aren't you used to this? Isn't business your whole life? Corporate dress code and all?"I shrugged. "I do it my way. Which usually means… not wearing one."Elise let out a soft chuckle. "That explains why your top two buttons are always undone."That made me pause. My gaze met hers. "You noticed that?"
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Chapter 28: Fault LinesAdrian's POVThe penthouse was dark when I pushed open the door, save for the dim under-cabinet lighting in the kitchen and the faint glow from the city bleeding through the windows. Ten p.m., and silence.Then—footsteps. Light. Barefoot.Elise stepped out of the guest room, or rather, what had slowly turned into her room. She wore a faded T-shirt, her hair pulled up. A domestic vision, if I was the type to romanticize. Which I wasn't. Most days."You're late," she said, voice quiet."Caught in traffic," I replied. "And by traffic, I mean a pit of moral decay."She didn't smile, but her eyes flickered, just a little."Mateo's asleep," she said. "I made dinner. It's in the fridge. You can reheat if you're not above microwaves."I hadn't realized how much I'd needed that. Just the image of Mateo huffing in indignation, Elise quietly watching. It was stupid, how warm it made my ches
The Face of Revenge Chapter 27
Chapter 27: Unspoken InvitationsAdrian's POV:I lean back in my chair, the stale air of the office mixing with the faint scent of expensive cologne from a half-empty bottle on my desk. Another day in the maze of Laurent family business—papers, memos, fake smiles, and hidden agendas. I'd love to be anywhere else, but apparently, the world keeps spinning even when I'm not paying attention."Mr. Laurent," a voice interrupts my reverie, and I don't have to look up to know it's my secretary. He's too eager for his own good, still under the delusion that we're doing something important here. He's harmless, though, and keeps to his role."Yes, what is it?" I ask, my tone flat, without even a hint of interest.He steps into the office, his clipboard in hand, practically bouncing on his heels. "I've gathered the documents you requested, Mr. Laurent. It's taking you a bit longer to familiarize yourself with everything. Are we starting any projects
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