Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 171 - Chapitre 180

Brandon POVThe silence of the room didn’t last long. The muffled sound of footsteps echoed in the empty, dilapidated space before the door slammed open. I froze instinctively, muscles tensing as the masked men flooded in. My wrists and ankles burned from the ropes, but I knew I had to stay alert.“You didn’t do what we wanted the first time,” one of them said, stepping forward, knife gleaming under the faint light. “Now you’ll call your people. You’ll tell them to pull out of the bidding. Or things get… worse.”I tilted my head, my chest tight but my jaw firm. “I’m not calling anything off,” I spat, my voice cracking just slightly under the tension. “You’re crazy if you think I’ll obey you. I’m not scared of you.”The tall man in the back laughed, a low, cruel sound. “You should be. You don’t have a choice, pretty boy. One call, or we make sure you regret not listening.”I swallowed hard, forcing myself to think. One call could ruin everything for Cameron, for me, for the bidding. Bu

I stared at my phone, feeling my stomach twist in knots. Something wasn’t right. Brandon’s team hadn’t shown up for the bidding, he hadn’t answered a single text or call, and now the situation was getting worse by the second. I swallowed hard, trying to tell myself I was overthinking it—but my gut screamed at me, and my chest felt like it was being crushed.“Something’s wrong,” I muttered to myself, pacing near the edge of the bidding site. I pulled out my phone again and dialed Hilda. I needed information. I needed someone who could tell me what the hell was going on.“Hilda, it’s me,” I said the moment she answered, voice tight. “Do you know anything? Brandon… he didn’t come to the bidding, and now his team’s pulled out. I… I can’t reach him.”Hilda’s voice was calm but carried that familiar undertone of urgency she always used when something was serious. “Cameron, I’m looking into it. I’ve already contacted Brandon’s parents to see if they’ve heard anything. Don’t panic. Let me mak

Cameron POvThe conference room was buzzing with quiet chatter as my team celebrated the news. Everyone was relieved that the bidding was over, that our company had officially won. But me? I couldn’t even fake a smile. My hands gripped the edge of the table like I could ground myself through the wood. My mind wasn’t on contracts, profits, or victory speeches. It was on Brandon.He hadn’t shown up. Not at all. His team hadn’t shown up either. And every call I made, every message I sent, went unanswered. My chest tightened like someone had wrapped a steel band around it. My stomach churned with a mix of dread and frustration, and no amount of rationalizing could make it go away.I ran a hand through my hair, pacing the length of the room. “Where the hell is he?” I muttered, almost to myself. “Why isn’t he answering?”“Cam…” one of my team members, Eric, said cautiously, “don’t worry. Brandon’s team withdrew. The bidding’s done. We won. Everything’s fine.”I shook my head sharply. “No, i

BrandonI woke up with a sharp sting in my wrists and a pounding headache that felt like someone was hammering inside my skull. My arms were tied behind me, the ropes biting into my skin, and the cold floor pressed against my back. I blinked against the dim light, taking in the room—dilapidated, empty, paint peeling off the walls, and the smell of damp concrete thick in the air.Masked figures stood around me, watching silently. I had been here before—more than once—and I knew the drill. This was a warning. This was intimidation. And they were good at it.I tried to move, but the ropes dug into my wrists. My jaw clenched. “You really think this will break me?” I hissed, voice hoarse.One of them stepped closer, knife glinting in the weak light. “Call your men,” he said, voice muffled behind the mask. “Tell them you’re withdrawing from the bidding. Or…” He pressed the blade lightly against my neck, a subtle but clear threat.I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. The bidding. My mind r

Brandon’s POV My wrists were on fire. Every twist, every tiny movement sent a shock of pain up both arms, but I kept pulling anyway because doing nothing felt worse. The ropes were tight, too tight and my fingers had already gone numb. My whole body ached, my clothes were sticky with dried blood, and my throat felt like someone had poured sand down it. But none of that mattered. I had to get out. I kept replaying Cameron’s face in my head. The way he smiled when he wasn’t trying to. The way his eyebrows scrunched when he was annoyed at me. The way he said my name like it meant something. If I didn’t get out, he would never know I fought for him. I shifted again, gritting my teeth as the chair creaked under me. I could hear voices outside the door, laughing, arguing, clanging things around. They thought I was too weak to try anything. They thought I was already halfway dead. Maybe I was. But I wasn’t done. I twisted my wrists hard and felt the rope burn deeper into my skin. A