All Chapters of She, His Enigma: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

Ellaya’s fists clenched, the muscles in her arms coiling with the familiar anticipation of combat. Across from her, the man charged — a wall of fury, his rage radiating like heat off an open flame. She didn’t move. Not yet. Every second stretched into infinity. Her breath was steady, slow. Then — with a snap of motion — she twisted sideways and drove her elbow into his ribs. The sickening thud cracked through the air. He folded instantly, crumpling like a broken doll. Before he even hit the floor, she moved again, hooking his ankle and sending him crashing onto the cold, blood-slicked concrete. The crowd erupted around her — a roar thick and frenzied — but it felt distant, muffled, like noise behind glass. Her world had narrowed to a sharp, merciless focus. Another fighter lunged at her from the side, a blur of desperation. Ellaya caught him mid-strike, pivoting smoothly, her body a blade honed by violence. With a brutal twist, she snapped his arm. The crack echoed louder th

A sharp spin— Cold lips crashed against hers, slamming her back into the jagged brick wall. The scent hit her first. That same deep cologne—smoke, cedar, danger. Then came the ghostly chill of his skin, colder than memory. Her eyes flew open. His were shut, lost in the kiss. His mouth moved over hers slowly, deliberately, tongue tracing hers like a scar reopening. His palm gripped her waist, thumb circling in soft, possessive motions through the thin fabric of her dress. His other hand cupped her jaw with something like reverence. She was caught—breathless between flesh and stone—heart thrashing, body frozen. Heat bloomed in her chest. The kiss drugged her for a heartbeat—seductive, toxic, cruel. Tears burned the corners of her eyes. Nostalgia, sharp and brutal, surged up her throat— Then— A brutal knee to the gut. A groan tore the silence of the alley. Ellaya shoved him off her. He stumbled back, stunned by the force behind her strike. Straightening slowly, he clutched his s

The overweight, middle-aged man pulled Ellaya closer by the waist, reeking of sweat and stale cologne. He leaned in, breath hot against her ear. "It’s time to taste my favorite drink," he whispered, his voice thick with sleaze. Ellaya giggled, head thrown back in mock delight. “Mmm, lucky me,” she purred, her fingers brushing his bloated stomach. Her neck-length short red hair bounced with the motion, and when she smiled, her snow-white teeth framed by blood-red lips seemed almost too perfect—almost dangerous. His eyes drank her in with animalistic hunger.“God, you’re a piece of work.” He shoved the door open and tossed her onto the plush bed. She bounced twice, landing with deliberate grace. Her eyes flicked to the hidden camera inside the ornate painting. She smiled—seductive, knowing. --- Iden sat in silence, watching her every move. Every glance. Every breath. His hand clenched around the armrest, knuckles white. His chest burned, rage simmering like wildfire under h

The tires screeched as Iden slammed his foot on the gas, weaving through the deserted streets like they belonged to him. His knuckles blanched around the steering wheel, jaw clenched tight, eyes flicking toward the passenger seat every few seconds. “Hold on, princess,” he muttered, voice raw, thick with desperation. “We’re almost there.” Ellaya slumped beside him, her coat wrapped tightly around her trembling frame. Blood seeped through the fabric, soaking into her side like ink in water. She clutched the collar like it was the only thing keeping her soul inside her skin. No cries. No moans. Just silence. That silence—so unlike her—shredded him. The car skidded to a halt at the private gates. Before the engine finished dying, Iden was out. He tore open her door and swept her into his arms. Her arm dangled limp, blood trailing behind them like a broken promise. “Stay with me, Ellaya,” he whispered into her hair as the elevator rose. His voice cracked. “Please hold on.” Th

Ellaya pulled away from him, her body taut like a bowstring, gaze darting around the room as if it were a cage. She rubbed her eyes, smudging away the fog of grief and fury that clouded her thoughts. Then, slowly, she turned to face him—her lips parted slightly, vulnerability shimmering in her eyes like cracks in glass. “I want to see them,” she said softly, her voice a fragile tremor in the stillness. Iden didn’t move. His eyes studied her, the same girl who once curled into his chest like she belonged there. Her heart—once soft, now shielded—beat beneath a skin that life had hardened. Her exterior still looked like stone, smoothed over by time, but he knew the chaos roiling beneath. “Eat first,” he said gently, his voice low, his eyes flicking to the blood dried on her clothes—evidence of a war not just fought outside, but deep within her soul. “And change. Samantha will help you.” ............. With Samantha’s quiet guidance, Ellaya stepped into the bathroom. Steam rose,