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THE CELL AND THE CROWN
Petsa ng paglalathala:
2026-08-12 17:30:57
Pinakabagong kabanata
The taste Of Revenge THE GATHERING STORM
Selene’s POVA single pearl-headed pin sat balanced between my lips, tasting faintly of cold steel, while my fingers worked at the seam of an emerald silk dress. I wasn't thinking about silk, or the international autumn line, or the fashion critics who praised my label for its "unapologetic architecture." I was thinking about how easy it was to tear a life down to the threads…how much harder it was to stitch a brand-new one together, stitch by bloody stitch. My inner goddess didn't just dance today, she was standing in front of a floor-length mirror, lacing up combat boots beneath her tailored couture, holding her head so high her neck ached. I caught my breath as a sudden, tiny flutter hit low in my stomach. I immediately dropped the silk and pressed my palm flat against my navy wool trousers, swallowing around the knot in my throat. I raised my left hand to brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear, and the morning sun caught the vintage-cut emerald diamond on my ring finger. It thre
The taste Of Revenge THE CELL AND THE CROWN
(dual pov's)Xavier’s POVThe harsh, humming fluorescent light embedded in the concrete ceiling of the holding cell hummed like a trapped insect, buzzing against my temples until my skull felt like it was going to split open. I sat on the edge of the bolted steel cot, my white dress shirt unbuttoned at the throat, the sleeves rolled up to my elbows. The linen was wrinkled and stained with stale sweat and the dampness of the rainy city I had been dragged through in handcuffs. A federal holding cell…Me…Xavier Adrian…The CEO of Sterling Capital. I looked down at my bare wrists, the red chafe marks from the steel cuffs still throbbing under my skin. I let out a sharp, cold breath through my nose, my lips curling into a dark smirk. They thought they had me. The SEC, the federal marshals, the press vultures swarming outside like starved dogs…they actually believed this little farce was going to stick. They thought a few leaked internal documents and some sensationalized headlines was eno
The taste Of Revenge SHE SAID YES
Damien’s POVThe heavy linen curtains of my master suite were pulled back just far enough to let the ambient glow of the New York skyline filter into the room. Outside, rain washed over the glass in steady, rhythmic sheets, blurring the chaotic city lights into soft pools of gold and violet. Inside, the world was entirely silent, save for the soft, steady sound of Selene’s breathing.She was resting against my chest, her bare shoulder warm against my skin and her fingers loosely woven through mine. The scent of sweet jasmine and fresh rain lingered around her with the scent that had completely invaded my brownstone over the past few months, slowly dismantling the cold, immaculate solitude I had spent a lifetime building. I looked down at her, tracing the delicate line of her jaw with my thumb. She looked so serene when she slept, stripped of the heavy armor she was forced to wear every single day. The world knows her as a brilliant surgeon and an extraordinary rising force in fashion,
The taste Of Revenge THE CATHEDRAL OF ASH
Aurora’s POVThe double-glazed glass spanning the perimeter of the forty-fifth floor panoramic window was ice cold against my forehead. Below, Manhattan looked like a microscopic city carved from graphite and quartz—yellow taxicabs crawling like tiny beetles down Fifth Avenue, neon billboards flickering through the grey drizzle, oblivious to the fact that their king was currently eating rubbery eggs off a plastic tray in a federal holding cell.I took a slow, deliberate sip of black espresso from a porcelain cup and it tasted like ash.The inner me didn't dance. She didn't throw her hands in the air or celebrate the catastrophic ruin of the man who had torn my world apart…she just sat quietly on a cold marble bench in the shadows of my mind, her knees pulled tight against her chest, arms folded, staring in stunned silence at her own bloodied hands.The heavy mahogany door to the corner office swung open without a knock, the soft latch clicking against the frame."Look at you," Elliot
The taste Of Revenge TRADED GOLD FOR DUST
Selene's POVMy inner goddess didn't just stop dancing…she crashed straight into a brick wall, knees buckling and her breath catching in a dry, agonizing gasp.I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted copper. The crystal tumbler didn't just fall, my fingers simply surrendered to the sheer gravity of what was happening on the screen. It shattered against the marble floor, a splash of amber scotch soaking through the delicate fabric of my heels. I couldn't move… I couldn't blink, my eyes stayed glued to the live broadcast, watching hands bound tightly in cold steel. The hands that had once held me, possessed me, and ultimately ruined me…being shoved down into the dark cavern of a federal vehicle.Xavier. “Oh, sweet lord... Xavier.”The impenetrable, sovereign titan of Manhattan looked completely hollowed out. His suit jacket was crumpled, his dark hair disheveled, sweat glistening on skin that had turned the sickly color of damp ash. His jaw hung slack and his dark eyes wide and bloodshot,
The taste Of Revenge THE GLASS THRONE
Xavier's POVThe heavy silver links of my Patek Philippe clicked against the solid dark mahogany table like a rhythmic countdown to an execution Elliott Crane didn't even know was coming. I stood alone in the shadow of the Carlyle suite, staring out at the hazy afternoon skyline of Manhattan. The sun was sharp and unforgiving, cutting through the tinted glass and casting long, razor-thin shadows across the velvet rug. I adjusted the broad lapels of my tailored charcoal coat, my breathing slow and dangerous.In less than an hour, my legal machine would file an emergency injunction, shorten Northstar’s primary credit facilities in London, and freeze Elliot out of his own operating capital. Elliott thought he had backed me into a corner with his pathetic SEC leaks. He was about to find out what happened when you backed a predator into a dead end.My thumb brushed the screen of my encrypted phone. One text was typed out, waiting to be sent to Gerald. ‘Secure the private terminal at Teterb
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