Lahat ng Kabanata ng Me, You and Forever : Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

The air in the shed felt oppressive, heavy with fear and the sharp tang of blood. Wren’s wrists burned where the metal shackles bit into her skin, her every struggle making them dig deeper. Her chest heaved as she fought to breathe past the taste of sweat and copper in her mouth. Bruises painted her arms and legs in shades of deep purple and sickly yellow, and her ribs screamed with every shallow breath she took. A figure stood before her, a shadow of death cloaked in cold cruelty. His eyes were like shards of ice, piercing and merciless, and his lips curled in a sneer that promised nothing but pain. "And if I put a gun to your head, do I become a bad person?" His voice was low, unhurried, like he was savoring the terror in her wide eyes. Wren flinched as the words hit her, each one slicing through the fragile thread of hope she clung to. She could barely see him through the blood matting her hair and dripping into her eyes, but she didn’t need clear vision to feel his rage and

She lowered the book, staring down at its bold black cover. “You don’t even know what the hell is in this thing,” she muttered under her breath. Her voice was barely audible, but even that felt too loud in the oppressive silence. She flinched, looking around to make sure no one had noticed. No one seemed to. The workers kept moving, heads down, hands busy. But the eerie quiet still pressed in on her. “Okay, Wren,” she whispered to herself, shifting her weight carefully to ease the ache in her bruised ribs. “Be reasonable. Be smart. You can’t die here. Not now.” Her voice cracked slightly, but she forced herself to keep talking. “Play along. Clean floors. Scrub windows. Whatever they want. Just… stay alive.” The cleaning supplies were crude, old-fashioned brushes and rags tossed into a dented metal bucket. Wren grabbed them quickly, her movements stiff and jerky, and dragged them to the nearest corner. Her knees screamed in protest as she crouched down, running the coarse brush

Hey thought the biggest threat was losing the project…But the real danger was standing right beside them. Kat's return to GreyCorps was supposed to be simple—work alongside Levi, keep Iris at arm’s length, and secure the Jourdan Project. But everything changes the day Mr. Gallagher arrives. One bump in the hallway, one careless "accident," and suddenly Kat finds herself in the middle of something far bigger than she could have imagined. Encrypted files. Stolen passwords. Framed for fraud. Someone is setting Levi up to take the fall, and Kat is the only one who sees the warning signs. But as she begins to dig, the cracks in GreyCorps grow wider. Every corner she turns, Gallagher is there. Watching. Waiting. Smiling. And Iris? She’s not just part of the problem—she is the problem. But proving it won’t be easy. Because when Kat finally unearths the truth, it comes with a price. And it might just cost her the person she’s beginning to fall for. In this tangled web of decepti

She lowered the book, staring down at its bold black cover. “You don’t even know what the hell is in this thing,” she muttered under her breath. Her voice was barely audible, but even that felt too loud in the oppressive silence. She flinched, looking around to make sure no one had noticed. No one seemed to. The workers kept moving, heads down, hands busy. But the eerie quiet still pressed in on her. “Okay, Wren,” she whispered to herself, shifting her weight carefully to ease the ache in her bruised ribs. “Be reasonable. Be smart. You can’t die here. Not now.” Her voice cracked slightly, but she forced herself to keep talking. “Play along. Clean floors. Scrub windows. Whatever they want. Just… stay alive.” The cleaning supplies were crude, old-fashioned brushes and rags tossed into a dented metal bucket. Wren grabbed them quickly, her movements stiff and jerky, and dragged them to the nearest corner. Her knees screamed in protest as she crouched down, running the coarse brush

Wren's tiny studio apartment felt more claustrophobic than ever, suffocating her with the weight of impending doom. Clothes were scattered across the bed, half-packed into a battered backpack. She moved with frantic energy, hands shaking as she double-checked her flashlight. Her lips were pressed into a grim line, betraying the dread bubbling beneath her surface.Raya, her best friend, leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, worry etched deep into her features. “Are you sure that’s the best idea, Wren?” she asked cautiously.“I don’t know.” Wren’s voice cracked as she zipped her bag halfway. “But either way, he’s gonna have my head on a plate. I’ve tried everything, Raya. He’s not going to listen to any more excuses.” She shoved a pair of sneakers into the bag with trembling hands. “I can’t just sit here waiting for them to come. Running might be the only shot I have.”Raya sighed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “Wren, this isn’t just some random guy we’re talking about. Thi