Todos los capítulos de BENEATH THE LIES : Capítulo 121 - Capítulo 130

122ASH'S POVI was lying on the concrete floor of my cell, staring at the ceiling and counting the cracks in the paint for the hundredth time when I heard the heavy footsteps approaching. Maya was sitting against the wall, quietly sharpening a piece of metal she'd somehow managed to acquire—the girl was resourceful, I'd give her that.The footsteps stopped right outside our cell, and I heard the familiar jingle of keys. I sat up slowly, my heart starting to race. This was either very good news or very bad news.The cell door clanged open, and there stood Officer in charge, who's name I'd come to know was Rodriguez—the so called head of the entire facility. He was a big man with cold eyes and scars on his knuckles that told stories I didn't want to hear. In all my months here, I'd maybe seen him twice, and never this close to my cell until yesterday and now."Ash. Maya. You're coming with me," he said, his voice carrying the kind of authority that didn't invite questions.I looked ove

124TASHA'S POVWhen I first saw them wheeling out what everyone believed was Dad's body on that gurney, I'll admit I was shocked. For a split second, my heart actually stopped beating. Had he really died? Had my plan worked too well?But then I caught myself and shrugged. Of course this was going to happen eventually. I mean, I had expected it from the moment I'd set that bomb. The old man was tough, but he wasn't invincible.Still, I needed to maintain my cover. Standing there among the crowd of reporters and onlookers, I forced my face into a mask of devastation. I clutched those white lilies so tightly my knuckles went white, and I let a few genuine tears fall—not tears of grief, but tears of relief that my nightmare was finally over.When Alora's eyes met mine across that chaos, I made sure she saw exactly what she expected to see: a heartbroken daughter mourning her father's death. Little did she know I was celebrating inside.Now, hours later, I was back at Christine's apartmen

126CHARLES' POVWhen I finally arrived at the hotel, a uniformed butler took my luggage and escorted me up to my room on the twenty-eighth floor. The suite was exactly what I'd requested—spacious, private, with a clear view of the city skyline where tomorrow's chaos would unfold.Now I stood in the marble shower, letting the hot water cascade down my abs and well-built physique as I closed my eyes and let my mind wander to tomorrow's events. In less than twenty-four hours, I would be standing where that bastard Stanley thought he belonged—at the altar, next to Alora.I had sent her a message, and I know she must be wondering who sent the message to her, she had no idea what was coming, she had once rejected me well now I would take her by force.I could picture it perfectly: the priest saying those sacred words, "You may now kiss your bride," and instead of Stanley's lips touching hers, it would be mine. Finally, after all these months of wanting her, yearning for her from afar, I wo

128STANLEY'S POVI stood there frozen, the phone still clutched in my hand, as the threatening words echoed in my mind. *If you want to see your soon-to-be wife and her mother in one piece, then meet me at the old road northeast.*The world seemed to slow down around me. People were starting to stare—decorators adjusting the floral arrangements, early arriving guests snapping pictures with their phones, hotel staff bustling around making final preparations. They had no idea that the groom they were photographing was currently living his worst nightmare.Some of the wedding guests who had arrived early were taking selfies near the elegant entrance, excited to be part of what the media had dubbed "the wedding of the year" since I'd made the invitation public. They smiled and waved at me, completely oblivious to the chaos erupting in my mind.This was all a joke, this was a prank. I tried to make myself believe it was all fake. but who could have done this? Who would pull such a sick pr

130 CHARLES' POV After I left the hotel, my phone buzzed with the call I'd been waiting for all morning. Hunter's voice came through clearly on the other end. "Stanley Richardson is down. Package delivered as requested." A dark smile spread across my face as I gripped the steering wheel of the rented Ferrari. Perfect. Stanley was now tied up somewhere far from the wedding venue, completely helpless to stop what was about to unfold. After a full day of planning, everything was proceeding exactly according to my meticulous design. I had arranged to meet Hunter at an isolated parking garage several blocks away from the St. Regis Hotel. The location was perfect—abandoned on weekends, with no security cameras and multiple exit routes. When I arrived there, Hunter was waiting in the a narrow dark route with Stanley's personal effects laid out on the hood of a black sedan. "Any problems during the extraction?" I asked as I examined Stanley's belongings—his phone, his platinum Rolex, his