All Chapters of Fated to the Cold and Ruthless CEO : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Alex stood at the edge of the black-tinted, bulletproof car not far from the cabin, his expression cold as ever. The night was quiet—too quiet actually. Only the faint sound of cicadas filled the air, underscoring the haunting silence of Summerville's western woods.John adjusted his earpiece, his gaze scanning the dark treetops ahead. "Perimeter secured. Mr. Croft’s men are in position. Ten outside in total."Alex’s gaze sharpened like blade. "Weapons?""Heavily armed," Daniel said, loading his gun with expertise. "They’re expecting us."Alex’s lips curled into a dark smirk. "Good."Jaxon stood nearby, his jaw tight. His gun rested in his gloved hand— ready for the fierce battle later. He hadn’t spoken much since the revelation. There would be a right time for it. His eyes flicked toward Alex."Are you sure about this?"Alex’s gaze shot toward him, cold and sharp. "Do you have a better idea?"Jaxon’s mouth twitched, but he said nothing. His hand curled tighter around the grip of his

The forest was alive with chaos after the severe battle from the cabin. Gunfire ripped through the cold night air. Shadows moved swiftly among the trees, nearly invisible beneath the cover of darkness. Alex’s eyes glinted as he cocked his gun. His grip on Garry’s collar tightened until the man’s breath came in strained gasps. Blood oozed out from Garry’s leg, but the sick smile on his face remained in place. “Cover them!” Alex’s voice rang sharply as he pulled Garry by the collar and shoved him toward a nearby tree. Jaxon, clutching his bleeding shoulder, pulled Celest behind him, shielding her from the gunfire. Daniel fired relentlessly toward the incoming assassins—his expression cold and deadly. John knelt next to Eve, checking her if she's already conscious, while his gun fired with deadly precision toward the enemies. Alex had

Celest remained seated on the bed, her untouched breakfast growing cold on the silver tray. The delicate porcelain teacup sat in her hands, the faint scent of jasmine tea rising with the morning breeze. Her mind remained tangled in the storm of questions left behind by Lucian’s sudden reappearance.A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.“Come in,” she called out.The door opened, revealing a housekeeper in a crisp black uniform. He was older, gray-haired, with a strong but dignified presence. His sharp eyes softened the moment he saw her.“Good morning, Ms. Allen,” the man greeted her with a polite bow of his head.Celest froze. Her grip on the teacup tightened. Ms. Allen?“You… know me?” she asked cautiously.The housekeeper smiled faintly. “Of course, Madam. I am Francis, the head of the household staff. We have all been waiting for you.”“Waiting for me?” Celest’s brows furrowed. “I don’t understand. Why would you…”“It is not my place to speak out of turn,” Francis

Galaxy Empire Tower..Alex sat on his executive chair, his eyes dark with cold fury. His hand tightened around his phone. Rupert’s words echoed in his mind, the weight of them cutting deeper than he cared to admit."Celest has been mine from the very beginning."A dangerous suspicion formed within him, but it wasn’t confirmed yet. He needed proof.Across the room, Jaxon leaned back against the leather couch, his arms crossed, watching Alex with sharp eyes. Earl, who had just entered the office, sat across from him, his expression grim. A quiet tension hung in the air. The scent of stale cigar smoke and aged wood clung to the office, thickening the already charged atmosphere.“We need to plan this carefully,” Jaxon said, breaking the silence. “We can’t put our mother’s safety at risk.”Alex's eyes narrowed slightly. “He wouldn’t do anything to her. He wants something from me.” Then, he turned to Earl and asked, “What have you gathered?”“Daniel is still on it,” Earl replied, his gaze f

Early in the morning… Rupert stepped into the estate, the sharp scent of blood lingering in the air. His hand, injured yesterday, was still bleeding despite being treated last night. The cut across his palm was deep, but to him, it was just a simple wound. He had encountered far worse before. As he arrived in the hallway leading to the living room, his face remained composed, his steps slow and firm as he shrugged off his jacket. The staff nearby lowered their heads and hurried away, sensing the quiet storm beneath his calm facade. In the living room, Celest was seated on a single sofa near the window, admiring the beautiful scenery outside. A delicate porcelain teacup rested in her hand. The soft morning sunlight bathed her through the glass. Her gaze lifted at the sound of quiet footsteps approaching. A faint smile began to form on her lips—until she saw the trace of blood on his hand.