Все главы The CEO’s Temptation : Глава 101 - Глава 110

****************************Aliana's POV********************His grip tightened like a vice around my chest, crushing the breath from my lungs. Panic surged as my airway closed_ each gasp, desperate rasp that never reached my eyes. My vision blurred at the edges, stars bursting behind my eyes. The pressure mounted, unbearable, as though my neck was caving inwards. A sickening crack echoed in my ears, or maybe it was just my pulse, hammering louder, slower... Then fading.His hand, like iron, closed around my throat, lifting me higher off the ground. I kicked and thrashed, but it was useless. The world was narrowing, closing in as darkness rimmed my vision. My lungs screamed for air."You think you're better than me, huh?" he hissed, eyes wide, spit flying from his lips. "You deserve this. You don’t get to breathe after what you just uttered!"A sudden force yanked him backwards, breaking the iron grip from my throat. I tried to jerk my hands out of the cuffs, but I couldn't. My mouth

***********************Etian’s POV**************************The knock on my door came just after midnight. Not urgent. Not aggressive. But firm enough to wake me from the edge of sleep.I rolled out of the bed, my heart already picking up speed. Something about it felt off. My sixth sense—sharpened after years in the military, training, and under-the-table investigations— I couldn't sleep when something was off. And right now, my sense was screaming.I reached for the drawer beside my bed. My Glock wasn’t a last resort anymore—it had become routine. Too many enemies had slithered out from the cracks lately, and I couldn’t afford to be careless. Not with Claire. Not with everything we were trying to expose.I eased toward the front door and peered through the peephole.I saw no one.I groaned in anger. Frowning, I opened the door cautiously and glanced around the hallway.It was Empty.But i spotted something on the floor.A brown envelope.My stomach twisted in tight knots. My body

*********************(Rowe’s POV)*************************The knock on my door came just after ten.Three hard taps.Then silence.I frowned. No one ever used the side door—not unless they didn’t want to be seen. I moved slowly, my hand drifting toward the drawer where I kept a silver dagger etched with a sigil from my old pack days. Habit. Paranoia. Maybe both.Another knock. Softer this time. Almost… unsure.I cracked the door open, eyes narrowing.Etian.His face was tight, flushed from running. “We’ve got a problem,” he said without greeting. “Big one.”I stepped aside and let him in.“Let me guess,” I muttered, locking the door behind him. “Liam’s finally stopped playing chess and decided to swing an axe instead?”“Close,” Etian said. “Claire got a warning tonight. Anonymous number. Said Liam’s cleaning house.”I raised an eyebrow. “And?”He looked at me, dark and serious. “They said you’re next.”For a second, I just stood there.Not shocked.Not even afraid.Just tired.“So

*************************Mack’s POV***********************I was halfway through a meeting in Chicago, the kind that made your brain throb with numbers and timelines when my phone vibrated against the conference table. I ignored it the first time, brushing it off as another client email. But then it buzzed again. And again.Three calls. Same numbers.It was Liz.That's odd. She hardly calls me unless it's urgent.I excused myself without a word, stepping out into the hallway lined with glass walls and polished silence. The moment I answered, her voice rushed through the speaker like wind through a broken window."Mack." She said. Her voice was low and urgent.My heart dropped."What about Claire?" I asked. My heart was pounding against my chest.“She’s gone to Liam’s place,” she added.“What?” My breath stalled.“Claire___She said she had to look him in the eye. Said she couldn’t rest until she saw the truth for herself.” Liz rasped. Her voice was slightly shaky.My throat went dry.

*****************************Claire’s POV*******************The morning light streamed through the windows of Mack's townhouse, soft and golden—but nothing about this place felt warm. Not anymore.I stood at the kitchen island, clutching a mug of coffee with trembling hands. The taste was bitter, untouched, and my stomach churned too much to drink. The scent reminded me of sleepless nights back in college, only this time, it wasn’t finals I was preparing for—it was war.Behind me, Mack’s footsteps padded across the floor. He paused for a moment, probably just watching me, reading my silence like he always did.“He’s going to fight back,” I said quietly.Mack stepped closer. “Liam?”I nodded.“He knows we’re circling him. He knows we don’t believe the Aliana story. I saw it in his eyes last night. He’s not scared—weirdly calm. Too calm.”“He’s always calm when he’s backed into a corner.” Mack’s voice held something darker than usual. “He calculates.”I turned to face him.Mack’s shirt