Todos os capítulos de Owned by Billionaire: Capítulo 101 - Capítulo 110

The smell of blood and fire still clung to Killian's jacket as he sat in the shadows, his back to the window that looked out over the city he had once controlled with such ease. But tonight was not like victory. Victor was still out there. Sophia was a specter with a knife pressed against the very backbone of Graves Enterprises. And Dante—the wild card none of them could manage—had vanished with a vow and a glare that lingered in Elena's heart.Elena stood on the other side of the room, arms crossed, regarding Killian with equal measures of worry and hard-protectiveness. The quiet between them was no longer the kind that indicated distance—it was the kind that resonated with all the unspoken words because there was too much to risk saying it wrong."He's not returning tonight," she finally spoke. "Dante's a phantom when he wants to be."Killian raised his head slowly, eyes circled with fatigue but still impossibly keen. "He doesn't need to return. He's already caused the harm.""You d

Silence in Graves Enterprises was choking. Elena was by Killian's side in the boardroom, the same room where for years intrigue, stabbing in the back, and secrets had been revealed. But now the tension wasn't about money or spots on the board. Today it was a matter of survival. The war had been waged, and the foe was out of hiding. It had a name—Victor. And a face she could never erase. "Are you sure?" she whispered softly, her own voice worn from a night of behind-closed-doors politics and emotional mines. The pain of Killian's almost-broken still throbbed in her chest, making her wince every time she glared at him. Killian refused to look at her. His jaw was clenched, his eyes fixed intently on the screen in front of him as Marcus briefed the team on penetrations of the perimeter. "We have no other option," Killian spat. "He's already within our walls. We burn him out, or we get burned with him." Marcus hacked. "The breach of security last night—

The storm's peace never came. It was healing, the serene spring of new danger coiled and waiting to spring at her once more. Killian understood that. Elena could stake her life on it.The Graves estate was cleansed—of bodies and blood and betrayal. William Cross was no longer a threat, and Victor's kingdom was crumbling inch by inch by the handful of people he still trusted. But something hung with an annoying sense that teetered in the balance, like electricity in anticipation of lightning.Killian in his study, the same room where so many of its secrets had been uncovered and exposed. In his pocket was a crumpled photo: him younger and Dante beside him, both bruised and battered—but grinning like the world hadn't yet given their worst yet.The past never really slept where it was concealed.There was a knock."Come in," Killian grunted, not lifting his head.Elena stood before him, a turtleneck black sweater and tight jeans hugging her leg

The morning dawned in mist, as if the city itself was ready for the blood that was to be spilt.Killian stood at the top of the helipad on the roof of Graves Tower, the wind ripping at his coat as he looked down on the world he'd built. This city had once bowed to his name—his empire from the depths of criminal syndicates to the gleaming boardrooms of global power. Now, there were fissures everywhere.Dante. Victor. Sophia.The names danced in his brain like smoke.Behind him, the metal door swung open with a hiss of hydraulic pressure. Elena stepped into the gray light, dressed all in black—high-waisted pants, silk shirt, leather gloves. Her solidity, her precision, sliced through the haze."They've made their first move," she said, stepping up beside him. "Two board members killed this morning. Made to appear as suicides."Killian's jaw hardened. "They're making a point."She nodded. "But not just to you. To me as well."He turne

Killian had always thought of pain as an old friend—something he could survive, manage, even command. This pain, however, was not physical. It was not from the gunshot to his side or the bruises hidden beneath his skin. It was more profound. He'd opened his eyes in that cold, antiseptic room, Elena beside him, and felt something shatter within him. Not because of the wound. But because she was still present. She hadn't gone. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure why not. The woman he'd attempted to ruin had remained. The woman he loved and hadn't said a word. Now, three days after he'd come around, Killian was up and around—much to doctor's displeasure, naturally. He'd refused to lie in bed while all the rest of the world outside those walls dissolved into chaos. Victor may have died, but his empire survived, and Dante—Elena's brother—now ruled what remained of that dark empire. Killian didn't believe in peace. Peace was always the interlude before the next shot. He stood