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Chapter 89: Whispers of Geneva

Penulis: Nedum's Pen
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-08-19 17:23:22

The name Geneva would not leave Amara’s mind. It repeated like a poisoned echo, drowning out everything else Luca had said, everything she wanted to believe about him.

That night, when Luca finally fell asleep, she crept out of bed and padded barefoot into his office. The city lights spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long silver streaks across his desk.

She sat down at his computer, hands trembling as she opened the search bar. Luca’s passwords had always been a mystery to her, but she remembered something, his mother’s birthday. She tried it. Access denied. She tried another variation. Then another.

On the fourth attempt, the screen blinked open.

Her heart stuttered.

Emails, financial files, encrypted attachments. Her eyes scanned until she saw it, folders labeled GENEVA 2018.

Her stomach knotted. She hesitated, hovered, then clicked.

Inside were documents in languages she didn’t recognize, scanned contracts, and a string of wire transfers. And at the center of it
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    The phone burned hot in Amara’s hand. One small device, one short message, yet it carried the weight of every sleepless night, every doubt Luca had begged her not to entertain.She didn’t reply, not yet. But she didn’t delete it either. That was enough. A secret choice. A seed Ethan had planted, watered with her weakness.When Luca returned from the kitchen, his voice steady but tight from the call, she shoved the phone beneath a pillow. He kissed her temple, soft, careful, as if she might break. And she smiled. A hollow, brittle smile.That night, sleep refused her. She lay awake, the city lights stretching like restless veins across the skyline. Beside her, Luca’s breathing was even, protective in its rhythm. Yet she felt utterly alone.And then her hidden phone lit up again.Ethan: They don’t see you, Amara. Not like I do. They see a story. I see you.Her chest clenched. Slowly, silently, she typed back.Amara: Stop.A pause. Then.Ethan: I will. If you come. Just once. One convers

  • Whisked Away    Chapter 106: Fractures in Glass

    The next morning brought no reprieve.Luca had tried to shield her, no phones, no television, but the world always found a crack to slip through. A neighbor in the elevator whispered, “Stay strong, Amara,” with pity in her eyes. A florist on the corner refused payment for roses, murmuring, “He really does love you, doesn’t he?”He. They didn’t mean Luca.By noon, Amara’s chest felt like glass stretched too thin. Every kindness carried Ethan’s fingerprints, every voice echoed his claim on her.When Luca returned from a call with his lawyers, he found her seated on the floor, back against the couch, surrounded by scattered newspapers and a laptop she had somehow fished out of a drawer. The headlines screamed at her.“BROTHERS AT WAR — BUT WHO DOES SHE BELONG TO?”“AMARA: A WOMAN CAUGHT BETWEEN LEGACY AND LOVE.”Luca’s face hardened. “Amara, I told you not to—”She cut him off, voice hoarse. “Do you hear them? It’s like I’m not even a person anymore. I’m just…” She laughed bitterly. “A h

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  • Whisked Away    Chapter 102: Luca and Ethan Face to Face

    The night air seemed to hold its breath.Luca stood framed in the garden’s archway, his dark suit catching the faint light, his gaze locked on Ethan with a weight that could crush steel. His presence filled the space, not just with power, but with the raw urgency of a man who had come for more than a fight. He had come to reclaim what was being stolen from him word by word.Amara’s heartbeat thundered in her ears. She looked between them, torn two men bound by blood yet standing as enemies, their silent history pressing down like a storm.Ethan was the first to move, slow and deliberate. He clasped his hands behind his back, as though he had been expecting this very moment.“Brother,” he said smoothly, his voice dripping with mock-warmth. “You always arrive just when the game is about to become interesting.”Luca stepped forward, each stride heavy with controlled fury. His voice was low, commanding, but with an edge of raw truth.“You call it a game. That’s the difference between us.

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