All Chapters of under his control : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The morning light broke through the curtains too soon. Ava lay still, her cheek resting on Liam’s chest, listening to the heavy rhythm of his heartbeat. It was steady now, strong, but last night she had heard the cracks in it, the tremors of a man carrying too many battles on his back. He had clung to her as if she were his only anchor in the storm. And maybe she was. Her eyes traced the curve of his jaw, the faint stubble shadowing it, the lines etched from years of holding himself together. She wanted to freeze this moment, to keep him untouched by the chaos outside their room. But the truth burned inside her: soon, she would step into the role of a liar. She would pretend to betray him for the sake of saving him. Her stomach twisted. How many times had betrayal already carved through their lives? Could he survive one more even if it was false? Could their love? Liam stirred, his arm tightening around her waist, pulling her closer. His eyes opened slowly, heavy with sleep, but

POV: Liam The phone slipped from my hand and hit the carpet, but I didn’t move to pick it up. My whole body pulsed with a heat so sharp it felt like knives pressing into my skin. Morgan. My own brother. I should have seen it coming. He had always been too clever, too slippery, too weak to choose loyalty over ambition. Beside me, Ava pushed herself up on the bed, clutching the sheet to her chest. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted in shock. “Liam… What does this mean? Why would he ” “Because he’s a coward,” I snapped, pacing to the window. The city glittered outside, alive and indifferent, mocking me with its lights. “He’s always wanted my seat, my power. Now Victoria’s dangling it in front of him, and he’s too spineless to resist.” Ava’s voice wavered. “Or maybe he’s scared. Maybe she’s forcing him.” I turned sharply, my rage so sharp it almost cut her words apart. “Don’t defend him. Not after what he’s already done. He sold you out once. Now he’s coming for me. That’s not fear

Ava POV The world blurred as the men dragged me out of Morgan’s suite. Their hands were iron around my arms, the hallway spinning past in a rush of carpet and light. My breath came shallow, my heart slamming against my ribs like it wanted out. “Let me go!” I cried, but one of them pressed a rough palm over my mouth, smothering my words. Morgan’s voice echoed behind me, raw and desperate. “Don’t hurt her! She has nothing to do with this!” But his words were swallowed by the slam of a door, then silence. I was shoved into a black car waiting at the service entrance. My wrists were bound with cold plastic ties, the kind that bit into skin the harder I struggled. A blindfold slipped over my eyes, and darkness claimed me. ⸻ Time stretched cruelly. The hum of the engine, the vibration of the road beneath me, the sharp scent of leather and cologne. I counted heartbeats to keep sane. One, two, three—until I lost track. When the blindfold came off, I was no longer in the city. A cold

Ava POV The cold bit into my skin before I even opened my eyes. My wrists were tied behind me, the ropes cutting deep, coarse against raw flesh. My ankles were bound too, the chair pressing hard against my back. But none of that pain compared to the knowledge of whose voice I’d heard last. Victoria. Her perfume still lingered in the air, cloying and sweet, like rot covered with sugar. She wanted me awake now, I knew it—she wanted me aware, afraid, broken. But she would not get that satisfaction. I raised my chin when she stepped back into the light. Her smile was sharp, her beauty painted like a mask, and in her eyes, there was nothing but venom. “You’re awake,” she cooed, circling me like a predator. “Good. I was afraid you might miss the show.” I clenched my jaw. “You’ll never win.” My voice was hoarse, but it came out steady. Victoria crouched beside me, close enough that I could see the glimmer of her earrings. She reached out, her fingers stroking a strand of hair from m

Ava POV The sound of the phone buzzing broke through the silence like a scream. For one moment, I wanted to ignore it, bury myself deeper into Liam’s chest, feel only the warmth of his skin and the safety of his arms. But something inside me told me not to. Something sharp and cold, like ice sliding down my spine. I pulled back just enough to look at the nightstand. The phone lit up again, its screen glowing in the dark room. My breath caught when I saw the name. Morgan. Liam’s arm tensed around me, his eyes narrowing as he reached for the phone. He unlocked it with a swipe, and the message appeared in bold letters. She’s not done. And next time, she’s coming for the child. The words blurred for a second as my vision swam. My heart stuttered, then slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it would break through. I pressed my palm to my stomach, the reflex so strong, so protective, as if I could shield the life inside me just by holding myself together. My throat felt tight. “L