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Chapter Fifty-Six: The Man Behind the Mask
publish date:
2026-10-23 23:46:07
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Too Late Mr. Hawthorne I Already Married Your Rival Chapter Sixty-Three — The Friend She Forgot
Elena’s POVThe screen went black.One second Victor’s face filled the frame, calm and certain, the next there was only darkness and the soft click of the call ending. Nikolai didn’t move. He stood in the middle of the private office like someone had cut the strings that kept him upright. His shoulders were rigid. The hand that still held the phone had gone white at the knuckles. I could hear his breathing,short, controlled, the kind of control that costs something every second it is maintained.I didn’t speak. There was nothing useful to say. The words Victor had left hanging in the air,you were never supposed to be a Carter,were still settling into the room like smoke.Then Nikolai turned.“Trace the call. Now.”The order was quiet, but the two men who had been waiting near the door moved as if he had shouted. One of them already had a tablet out, fingers flying. The other was on a different line, speaking in low, clipped sentences I couldn’t catch.I stayed where I was, close enoug
Too Late Mr. Hawthorne I Already Married Your Rival Chapter Sixty-Two — The Woman in the Photograph
Elena’s POVThe photograph wouldn’t let me look away.Margaret Carter sat in a sunlit living room that looked almost gentle, almost ordinary. Untouched tea on the table in front of her. Soft curtains half-drawn. Her expression was calm, as if she had simply paused mid-thought and someone had stolen the moment before she could finish it. Under the image, the message was short and surgical.You got Elena back. Now let’s see how quickly you can save your own family.Nikolai’s hand tightened around the phone until the knuckles went white. He didn’t speak at first. He only stared at his mother’s face like the screen might rewrite itself if he refused to blink.Then he called her.The line rang. And rang. And went to voicemail.He hung up and dialed again. Same empty sound. Same polite, recorded voice asking him to leave a message.“Call her again,” he said, the words scraped raw.Lucas, still leaning against the side of the SUV with a blood-soaked cloth pressed to his upper arm, already
Too Late Mr. Hawthorne I Already Married Your Rival Chapter Sixty-one — The Next Target
Elena’s POVThe voice cut through the chaos like a blade through silk.“Nobody moves. Let her go.”I knew that voice before I saw the face. It lived in the same place as childhood summers and scraped knees and the way someone used to stand between me and every storm.My brother.Lucas.He stood at the top of the gangway with half a dozen men fanned out behind him, weapons already raised, expressions flat and professional. No hesitation. No surprise.He had planned this.The thought landed somewhere soft and terrified inside me. He had known enough to come armed. He had known enough to come at all.His eyes found me instantly.Everything in his face changed.The hard, controlled mask he wore for the world cracked open for half a second. I watched him take in the split lip, the swelling along my cheek, the way I was holding my shoulder like it might come apart if I breathed too deep. Something ancient and furious moved behind his eyes. The same look he used to get when we were kids and
Too Late Mr. Hawthorne I Already Married Your Rival Chapter Sixty — The Exchange
Elena’s POVThe ropes had started to feel like part of me.Not the sharp, biting kind from the warehouse. These were cleaner, tighter, chosen by someone who understood exactly how long a person could stay conscious while fighting them. My wrists burned where the fibers had already worn the skin raw. Every time the yacht rolled with the swell, the chair creaked and the pressure shifted, sending fresh sparks up my arms into the half-healed wound in my shoulder. I stopped testing them after the third attempt. Pain was a language I already spoke fluently.Lillian paced.Three steps toward the wide windows that looked out over gray water, three steps back. Her heels made soft, irritated clicks against the polished deck. She checked her phone every forty seconds like the screen might suddenly grow teeth if she looked away too long. Victor sat in the opposite chair with the stillness of a man who had already calculated every possible outcome and found them all acceptable. Damien stood near t
Too Late Mr. Hawthorne I Already Married Your Rival Chapter Fifty-Nine — Not His Choice
Elena’s POVThe first thing I felt was pain.It pulsed behind my eyes in a slow, sick rhythm, then radiated outward until my whole face ached. My cheek burned where Damien’s hand had landed. Every breath dragged against the tenderness, and for a moment I thought I was still on the jet, still falling through that gray tunnel of noise and pressure.Then the surface beneath me shifted.Not the hard seat of a plane. Something softer. Something that moved with a gentle, rolling sway.I forced my eyes open.Light cut across polished wood and cream upholstery. The air smelled of salt and expensive cologne and the faint metallic tang of blood that still clung to my own skin. My wrists were bound to the arms of a chair. Ankles the same. Rope again. The same kind that had bitten into me in the warehouse, only cleaner now, tighter, chosen with more care.I was on a yacht.The realization landed with a dull, heavy thud in my chest. Not a plane. Not a hospital. Not anywhere I could run. Just endl
Too Late Mr. Hawthorne I Already Married Your Rival Chapter Fifty-Eight — The Price of Betrayal
Elena’s POVThe footsteps that had just entered the warehouse still echoed when the second set arrived.These were different. Not the measured, deliberate weight of Victor Carter. These were controlled, purposeful, carrying the kind of quiet force that made the air itself feel thinner. Everyone turned.Nikolai stood in the doorway.He held a gun low at his side, the barrel steady, his face carved into something I had never seen before,stillness so complete it felt like a blade. His eyes locked on his father and did not move. The silver light from the high window cut across his cheekbones, and for one fractured second I thought the ground might simply open and swallow us all.“Nikolai…” His name tore out of me before I could stop it. Raw. Desperate. “Help me. Please, get me out of here!”He didn't look at me. Not yet. His entire body was angled toward Victor, as if the rest of the warehouse had ceased to exist.“Tell me,” he said, his voice quiet enough that it should not have carri
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