Semua Bab The Mafia Devil's Princess: Bab 91 - Bab 100

“You have all the answers that you need, Kierra Evans.” Kaspian smirked at me. “Sebastian is one of the suspects before your father died.”A chill traced down my spine, sharp and sudden. It can’t be… The air felt heavier, like the world had just tilted off its axis.“You… you can’t be serious, right?” I whispered, my voice strangled with disbelief. “There’s no way Sebastian would betray me like this.”“I’ve heard you ran back to that scoundrel,” Kaspian chuckled lowly. “What are you going to do now?”I took a slow, trembling step back. My world—already broken and stitched with string—cracked again beneath my feet.“What… what should I do?” I wasn’t asking him anymore. I was asking myself.“Always trusting the wrong people, aren’t you, Kierra? You’re a trouble magnet.”“Don’t have to tell me twice,” I muttered bitterly, crossing my arms.I was already spiraling, but now… now there was a seed of doubt in my chest that bloomed like poison ivy. I needed to know what was behind that pic

Damian and I walked out of the school with Tobias. Selene marched towards her car while pulling her own son and scolding him like a dog. As Sebastian and I were about to load Tobias into the vehicle, suddenly someone spoke from behind.“Kierra.”My spine snapped into a rod when I heard his voice. Sebastian tilted his head, his eyes brimming with warning as Damian walked up to us— to me. I turned my head to him, and I could feel all the anger in my veins throb again. I hate this man! He took everything from me!“Can we talk?”He must have been out of his mind when he asked me to talk with him, but there ain’t no way in hell that Sebastian was going to agree.I turned my head at the male, who slipped his hands into his pockets. Sebastian pulled me behind him, sizing up Damian— but his eyes were locked into mine, ignoring him. “What do you want from her?”“I have nothing to say to you,” Damian replied in a pent-up tone. “But I have a few words for Kierra.”“She won’t tell you anything

Once I completed the final notes from my shift and secured my small apartment, possibly for the last time, Sebastian was already outside, placing the last box into the back of his SUV. He moved with that same self-assured elegance he always exhibited, even with the new bruises on his face. I stepped out, my hands tucked into the pockets of my cardigan. The late afternoon sun bathed the pavement in a warm orange hue. It was a stunning view, but for some reason, it left my chest feeling constricted.“Seb… do I really have to move?” I asked, biting the inside of my cheek.He turned to face me, brushing his hands together after loading the last item. “The closer you are to me, the better,” he said plainly. “I can protect you better if you’re in the villa.”I shifted my weight on my feet, avoiding his eyes. “I know that… but…”“But what?” His voice dropped a little. Concern flickered in his features. “Do you not want to go back?”“It’s not like that…” My voice trailed off as I lowered my

The Eastside District hadn’t changed much since I last set foot here. Still the same flickering streetlights, the same cracked sidewalks littered with cigarette butts, the same faint odor of stale beer and rust clinging to the gutters. If anything, it looked more tired now, like the city had stopped pretending it cared.I pulled my hoodie tighter over my head and glanced at the small piece of paper in my hand. Unit 7-B, Building 3, Rosewell Apartments. It was scribbled in my own handwriting—what little information I had managed to track down from Tomas’s last known location. No updated records, no phone numbers, no neighbors who remembered him clearly. He had vanished like a ghost three years ago.I reached the corner of 8th and Amber. The Rosewell complex stood across the street like a forgotten relic—peeling paint, rusted gates, and a “For Lease” sign hanging by a single nail, swinging with the occasional gust of wind. It used to be the kind of place students and fresh graduates wen

The city always felt different at night.Even the air changed, heavier, colder, filled with whispers that didn’t dare speak during daylight. I walked the quieter streets, hood up, hands in the pockets of my coat. The orange glow of streetlamps painted the pavement in patchy gold, and the occasional hiss of tires on wet asphalt filled the silence between my footsteps.I wasn’t sure why I went out.Maybe I just needed space, from the walls of Novair Manor, from the names piling up in my files, from the weight of every decision we had to make.Or maybe I just needed to remember what grief looked like from the outside.I turned down a narrower alley off Amber Street, one I remembered from my student days, a shortcut between the hospital and the subway line. I hadn’t walked it in years.But tonight, someone else had.A small figure was curled near the corner under an old tarp, hunched beside an empty food box and a ratty backpack. I slowed. From where I stood, the kid looked maybe ten or e