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Chapter 4
Huling Na-update:
2022-11-03 06:19:04
Pinakabagong kabanata
The Heartless Lover Turbulence
Jacqueline's POV The hum of the jet’s engine was steady, but my heart wasn’t.I sat by the window, watching clouds drift below us like soft islands. Haze was seated across from me, flipping through a magazine he clearly wasn’t reading. Lorenzo was in the cockpit speaking with the pilot.We were finally on our way to Australia.It felt surreal. After all the fire, pain, and haunted nights, we were finally going to see Théo. I should’ve felt excited. I was. But something hung thick in the air. Unspoken. Brewing.“Stop staring,” Haze muttered, not looking up.I blinked. “I’m not.”“You were.”I folded my arms. “You’ve got a weird way of accepting concern.”“I don’t need your concern, Jacqueline.”There it was again—that edge in his voice.I rolled my eyes and stood, heading to the mini-bar at the corner of the jet’s lounge. “Do you want anything?”He didn’t answer. I grabbed a bottle of water and tossed it at him. He caught it without looking.“Seriously,” I said, finally turning to
The Heartless Lover In The Arms Of Ghosts
Jacqueline's POV The night was colder than expected.Wind rattled the wooden barn walls as the three of us lay in separate corners of the room. Lorenzo had taken the far end, leaning against a post with a pistol cradled across his lap, watching the door like a hawk. Haze was somewhere to the left of me, a few feet away, pretending to be asleep.Me? I couldn’t sleep. My body ached, my ribs throbbed with each breath, and the silence let my mind wander into places I didn't want to revisit.When sleep finally came, it wasn’t peaceful. It came like a thief and dragged me into the past.---In the dream It started like it always did—with blood.It was my 10th birthday when my father's mansion was attacked, the night my father, a mighty mafia boss let his guard down, the night my parents were killed, the night I lost my mum, my dad, and a sibling I never got to meet... The night they died played out like a loop in my head. The gunshot. The smoke. My mother, crying for her dear life. My
The Heartless Lover Smoke Between Us
Jacqueline's POV The drive from the burning safehouse was long and quiet. No one said a word—not out of peace, but because the weight of what just happened was too fresh, too raw. Smoke clung to our skin, our clothes, our lungs. Every breath still tasted of ash. Every heartbeat still echoed the panic of nearly dying.When we finally stopped, it was a secluded barn in the middle of nowhere. The woods swallowed it in darkness, the sky above stretching vast and empty. The structure was old, creaky, and far from comfortable—but it was dry, it was safe, and it was silent.Lorenzo went outside to scout the perimeter.Haze stayed behind with me.I sat on a makeshift bench, my body aching, my clothes still singed at the edges. The beam had bruised my ribs and scraped my back. My ankle throbbed from the twist, and the smoke had left my throat raw. But I was alive. Barely.Haze walked over, wordless, and knelt in front of me.“I’m fine,” I muttered, even though we both knew I wasn’t.He
The Heartless Lover Ashes And Embers
Jacqueline’s POVThe crackling sound woke me first.Sharp. Ravenous. Almost alive.For a second, I thought I was dreaming—trapped in another echo of the past, a nightmare I had relieved too many times. But then the heat settled on my skin like a warning.Real.I sat upright, lungs tightening. Smoke coiled through the room, thick and suffocating. My eyes darted to the fireplace—but the fire had long burned out. This was coming from somewhere else.Every nerve in my body screamed one word.Fire.I was on my feet in an instant.“Enzo?” I spoke quietly, trying to contain my fear. My eyes scanned the room for any glimpse of him. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was Lorenzo's arm wrapped around my body on the bed and now he's nowhere to be found.The smoke was getting thicker. The air felt heavier. I stumbled toward the door, swinging it open just in time to see a plume of dark grey rush past. Flames danced hungrily down the far end of the hallway. Wood groaned overhead.The
The Heartless Lover Scars Of The Past
“I never betrayed Scarface. Scarface betrayed me”... Reneé’s word lived rent free in my head. I didn't know if I should believe her little story. My father has never mentioned Reneé ever since the day I was born and Alonso loathed this woman that he barely talked about her.I let out a soft moan as I rubbed my palms together, finally feeling the warmth from the fireplace. Lorenzo walked into the living room with his usual stoned face, he seemed a little bit angry but can you blame him? He really put in alot of energy into finding Reneé to get answers but all his efforts was in vain, it was all back to square one, he had no idea where to start from or what to do.“I don't know why you're so adamant to prove your family innocence but just give it a rest already” I spoke flatly “just admit that this was one of your father's dirty little secrets that wasn't recorded in some stupid ledger”Lorenzo's eyes flashed with defiance “Hernandez have no hand in the assassination of the Cattaneos”
The Heartless Lover The Thorned Truth
Jacqueline’s POVThe moment Reneé turned and motioned for us to follow her, the air shifted.She didn’t speak as she led us through the mansion, her red silk gown whispering along the marbled floors. The hallways were quiet—too quiet—and I couldn’t help but feel like we were being led straight into a trap.But something about her… the deliberate grace in her steps, the unbothered tilt of her chin, the way the guards bowed without meeting her gaze—told me this wasn’t just power.It was legacy.She pushed open a glass door at the end of the hall, and the scent hit me first. Roses. Thick and cloying and heady. But not the kind in love poems. This was the scent of thorns. Of blood. Of something ancient and cruel.The room was built entirely of glass. A greenhouse. But not like any I’d seen before.It was cathedral-like in structure, the arched roof disappearing into a dusky sky above, streaks of violet and silver from the setting sun casting ghost-light over everything. Climbing vines sca
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