Semua Bab REBEL : THE DEADLY HIERESS: Bab 81 - Bab 90

ROBERT The press conference was in full swing. Cameras flashed, the reporters shoved microphones forward like vultures crowding a carcass, and I was in the middle of carefully explaining how the recent market shift was going to— The doors burst open. It wasn’t a polite knock or even a discreet echo. No—these heavy double doors slammed into the walls behind them with such force that every head in the room whipped toward the entrance. And there she was. Rebel. Red, short, slitted skirt hugging her hips. Black crop top. Hair tied high, cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. She looked like sin dipped in rage. And the gun in her hand made it crystal clear she wasn’t here to flirt. I blinked once. “Well”, I drawled, straightening my suit jacket, “this is—” BANG! White-hot fire tore through my left shoulder. The room erupted into chaos. Reporters screamed. A microphone clattered to the floor. My PR manager’s face drained of colour, and one guy in the front row ducked beh

LOUISAAfter stepping away from Mia and her guard dogs I can't help but shudder; they are all too dangerous and I am swimming in mucky waters here so I must create a safe counter measure for myself.Getting home I stared at the little red light on the camera, it blinked at me like it knew all my secrets. My fingers trembled on the record button, but I pressed it anyway, because fear wasn’t going to save me, secrets weren’t going to save me either.Survival was the only game left, and I had to play it better than the monsters I call allies.“Alright,” I muttered, leaning forward until my face filled the screen. My voice came out low, almost shaky at first, but it steadied as the words poured out. “If you’re watching this, then one of two things has happened: either I’m dead, or someone broke into my security maximum protected bank safe and got the guts to open this box I left behind. Either way… you deserve the truth.”I swallowed, tasting bitterness in the back of my throat. I do not like

KILLIAN The screen froze for a second, the image of Rebel Rhodes standing in that press room still etched in my head like a fever dream that would never go away. A gun in her hand. Robert clutching his left shoulder, face twisted in agony. Reporters screaming and ducking for cover. And then Rebel—calm, with fire in her eyes, spitting out her warning like a queen issuing a death sentence. I leaned back in my chair, pulse hammering, not from fear but from something else. Something darker. “Holy shit,” Ray muttered from the couch opposite me. His eyes were still wide, his glass of whisky forgotten in his hand. “She just shot Robert...On live TV, Killian. That’s not guts—that’s suicidal.” I smirked, unable to tear my gaze from the screen as the broadcast cut to panicked anchors trying to regain composure. “No, Ray. That’s not suicidal; that’s…beautiful.” Ray blinked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Beautiful? Are you hearing yourself right now? That woman just walked into a press conference

KLAUS I had both kids pressed into my sides, their little fingers clutching at my shirt like I might vanish if they let go. The big screen on the wall still showed the rooftop feed—Catya’s voice was calm and steady as she spoke to Rebel, who sat there eating chips like the world wasn’t burning. And Daniel? He was standing, pacing like a caged wolf, running both hands through his hair so much I was sure he’d rip it out strand by strand. “Sit down,” I muttered, eyes fixed on the screen. “You’re making me dizzy.” “I can’t sit down,” he snapped, voice sharp, raw. “She’s—look at her, Klaus—she’s a second away from—” “Jumping? Running? Shooting somebody else?” I cut in. “Yeah. Welcome to the reality of loving this woman.” He shot me a glare but didn’t answer, because what could he say? Michael shifted closer to my side. “Uncle Klaus?” His voice was small, so unlike the bold, mischievous tone he usually carried. “Is Mommy… going to leave us?” The question punched a hole through my ch

KLAUS The silk cut across her wrists as I tightened the knot against the headboard. Too small to cause harm —at least not yet — but large enough to remind her that she wasn't going anywhere unless I chose she could. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, lips parted, eyes wide. Catya was better here, in this arena where I stopped playing it gentle. Where the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders because she would carry it with me, pinned down by my dominance. I gripped my hand harder against her throat, not strangling her, just holding her, trapping her stare on mine. "Like chaining yourself to a broken man?" I snarled. She was a breath, a spark of flame. "I like knowing I'm the only one who can manage it." God. She knew me too damn well. My thumb slid over her pulse; that quivering beat was belied by her steady tone. She was shivering, but not with fear. With anticipation. I leaned forward, mouth against her ear. "Want my anger, Cat? Or my mercy?" She shivered. "Rage