All Chapters of Retribution : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Vladislav MorozThe drive up to the new residence was quiet, too quiet for how many things were screaming inside my head.Valencia sat beside me in the backseat, staring out the window at the long stretch of stone and forest, her thoughts clearly somewhere else. She had gone quiet after I had carefully explained the circumstances of everything that had happened to her. She was probably thinking of the next course of action and how to push me into the court now that Bartholomew was out of the question.Anatoly, on the other hand, was grumbling into a phone clutched tightly in his hands. He was making plans and putting things into order, functioning like a very efficient and multifaceted robot, while I on the other hand, could only think about her, and the very fact that I had fallen asleep next to her.It wasn't the falling asleep next to her part that took over my thoughts, but rather the fact that I had even fallen asleep at all. I never slept deeply and certainly not next to someo

Valencia Nightingale"We've not really heard anything on Malcom's end," Anatoly said, scrolling through his tablet with those sleek, black gloves that never left his hands. Each swipe against the screen was precise and controlled. "Our spies in the hospital speculate he's using the silence to recuperate and rally his forces. Likely planning a revenge strike. But… we're ready for him.""Whatever he plans this time," Vladislav said without looking up from the table, "it's not going to work."His tone was matter-of-fact, and I could tell he wasn't just speaking out of misplaced confidence. The level of meticulous planning and security I had seen at this new mansion was enough to prove just how much they had prepared themselves for the unknown. "But Malcolm isn't the issue right now."Anatoly raised his head, his dark eyes fixed on mine from his mask."It's getting into the Court that has us stuck."Yeah, that.It was one thing to defend against Malcolm as we had been doing. But to attac

Vladislav MorozConsciousness returned to me in slow, dragging waves—thick, heavy, almost suffocating. My body felt like it had been trampled by a truck, which backed over and ran over me again for good measure. My limbs felt like they were weighed down by a heavy stone. But nothing annoyed me more than the persistent and throbbing headache. It wasn't like the normal headaches I usually experienced; this one was pulsing at the back of my head like I had a bomb attached to my brain.I knew exactly what this was.I had gone through this too many times not to be able to identify the symptoms. My blood pressure.I had been expecting it. My eyes stayed shut at first, more out of weakness than choice, but I felt the faintest pressure against my palm. Warm. Soft. Familiar.I forced them to open.Valencia.She was asleep in the chair beside me, head resting on the mattress, cheek pressed into my hand as if she’d been holding onto it all night. Her hair spilled over my skin, her posture awkwa

Valencia NightingaleHis eyes went completely dark.The next second, the headboard cracked like gunfire.I didn’t even see him move. One moment, the sheets were tight around his wrists, the next, they were shredded, blood streaking down his forearms where the fabric had sliced him open. He didn't even care to look at the blood.His hands were on me before I could gasp, fingers like steel around my hips. He flipped us so fast the world spun. My back hit the mattress, his weight crashing down on me, heavy and burning.I opened my mouth to yell, but his lips slammed into mine and swallowed every sound I could possibly have made.He had warned me, and I foolishly didn't listen.He kissed me like he was trying to crawl inside my skin. Teeth, tongue, raw hunger. I tasted blood—his or mine, I didn’t know. His hands pinned my wrists above my head. This time, he was the one tying me down with nothing but brute strength.I shoved at his chest, hard.He growled into my mouth and pressed harder,

Valencia NightingaleDinner ended twenty minutes ago, but none of us had made a move to return to our rooms. The maids had come in to clear the empty plates, leaving only the tall decanter of wine and a few cups. The vast dining room emptied in a matter of seconds as Valdislav's men retired to their posts for the night.Caspian leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms as that lazy smile of his took over his face. He had been smiling like that since he came today, glancing between Valdislav and me like some detective. I didn't know what he was expecting to happen, probably along the lines of Vladislav getting on his knees with a ring, like that could ever happen.He didn't look like he was getting married.Did he?Caspian broke the quiet first, every hint of amusement washing away from his face.“We need to kill Bartholomew,” he said, plain and calm, like he was ordering coffee. “That's the only option we have, and there is an opening in four days.”Vladislav’s head snapped up.