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Chapter 136

Autor: A. Leilani
last update Data de publicação: 2026-06-06 19:44:52

Chapter 136

The Whitmore residence occupied the kind of house that had stopped being just a house several generations ago and had become instead a statement—three floors of considered architecture set back from the street behind ironwork gates and a gravel drive that crunched with the particular self-importance of gravel that knew its own value. The interior had been decorated and redecorated across decades by women with strong opinions and unlimited budgets, and the result was the specific aes
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  • The Secret Billionaire Heiress Strikes Back    Chapter 172

    Chapter 172The comm panel built into the car's dash lit up on the second lap, a single amber light blinking beside a frequency display that hadn't shown any activity since the pre-race instructions. Dante glanced at it, frowning, and pressed the small button beside the speaker without slowing — Marcello's people had told him this channel was for race control only, emergency instructions, nothing that should be lighting up mid-lap unless something had gone wrong with another car."Go ahead," he said, voice tight with concentration, his eyes already back on the track, threading the car through the wide curve of the north bank."Dante."The voice came through warm, almost affectionate, and every part of Dante's body went cold at once, because Marcello's voice on a comm channel mid-race was not an emergency instruction. It was something else entirely."What do you want," Dante said."I wanted to congratulate you," Marcello said. "You're driving

  • The Secret Billionaire Heiress Strikes Back    Chapter 171

    Chapter 171The seat was cold beneath him, the wheel solid and unfamiliar under his hands despite years of muscle memory that should have made it feel like coming home. It didn't feel like coming home. It felt like stepping back into a life he'd spent five years carefully, deliberately leaving behind, and finding it exactly as dangerous as he remembered, except now there was more at stake than his own survival.He thought about all the reasons he had to come back from tonight in one piece. The list was longer than it had ever been, the first time he'd driven for Marcello, when the only thing waiting for him at the end of a race had been an empty apartment and a debt that didn't care whether he lived or died paying it.Now there was a five-year-old who checked his shoulder every morning. A woman who'd walked willingly into danger beside him because the alternative — staying home, waiting, not knowing — was worse than the danger itself. A man with careful ey

  • The Secret Billionaire Heiress Strikes Back    Chapter 170

    Chapter 170Jayce scanned the crowd the way a man scans a minefield — slow, careful, every face a potential detonation. His brothers had peeled off ahead of him the moment they'd cleared the entrance, drawn toward the staging barriers by the distant sound of an engine being revved, and he'd let them go, trusting the crowd's density to keep them from getting into anything worse than overexcitement.He moved through the masks methodically, looking for height, for build, for the specific silhouette he'd half-convinced himself he wouldn't actually find tonight despite knowing, somewhere underneath the hope, that he absolutely would.He found her by the bar.Green dress, dark mask, the particular alertness in her posture that he recognized immediately even from across the crowd because he'd watched her hold herself exactly that way in a conference room three weeks ago. Ravyn.His stomach dropped.If Ravyn was here, Dante was here. There was no version

  • The Secret Billionaire Heiress Strikes Back    Chapter 169

    Chapter 169Marcello moved through his own event the way a king moved through a court he'd built specifically to flatter him — unhurried, unmasked, a glass of something dark in one hand, stopping every few feet to exchange a word with someone who mattered enough to warrant the pause. He wore a plain suit, expensive but understated, the specific understatement of a man who didn't need ornamentation to be recognized as the most important person in the room.He'd been watching the crowd for the better part of an hour, the way he always did before a race — not for entertainment, but for information. A man learned things by watching a crowd that he never learned by watching a track. Who stood near whom. Who avoided whom. Who carried themselves like they had something to prove and who carried themselves like they'd already proven it years ago and were simply waiting for everyone else to remember.His eyes caught on a figure near the bar — a man, mask

  • The Secret Billionaire Heiress Strikes Back    Chapter 168

    Chapter 168She found him near the bar, twenty minutes in, almost by accident — a man standing slightly apart from the cluster of guests around him, a glass in his hand that he wasn't drinking from, his mask a plain, unremarkable black that covered his eyes and the bridge of his nose but left his jaw exposed.The scar ran from the corner of his mouth up toward his cheekbone, thin and pale, the unmistakable shape of an X where two old cuts had crossed at some point in his life and healed into a single mark.Ravyn's pulse picked up, though her face gave away nothing."There," she said quietly, tilting her head a fraction toward him.Dante followed her gaze and went very still. "That's him.""Stay here," she said. "If something feels wrong, you come get me. Otherwise, give me space. I don't know how he reacts to an audience."Dante's jaw tightened, every protective instinct in him pulling against the instruction, but he'd promised her this

  • The Secret Billionaire Heiress Strikes Back    Chapter 167

    Chapter 167The venue revealed itself slowly, the way expensive secrets always did — first as nothing, an unmarked stretch of road outside the city where the streetlights thinned and the GPS insisted there was nothing ahead but warehouses and dark fields, and then, abruptly, as everything at once.The track sat in what had once been an industrial complex, repurposed sometime in the last decade by people with the money and the disregard for permits required to turn abandoned concrete into something that could host two thousand people without a single regulatory body knowing it existed. Floodlights ringed the perimeter, throwing the track itself into stark white relief against the dark sprawl of the old buildings around it. Cars filled an enormous makeshift lot — luxury vehicles parked with valet precision, drivers in dark suits directing traffic with the smooth efficiency of men who did this often enough to have it down to a science.Dante drove them in slo

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