All Chapters of The Ultimatum Wife: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Elena lowered her gun first.Roman’s hand trembled, not in fear, but in the sharp release of rage he’d been holding for too long.For a second he looked almost lost.Elena stepped closer, slipping her fingers into his free hand.“You did the right thing,” she murmured.Roman said nothing, but he squeezed her hand back with silent gratitude.Hale came into the room moments later, breathless, gun raised.His eyes widened at the sight of the two bodies on the floor.“Jesus Christ…” Hale muttered. “You two worked fast.”Roman didn’t look away from Elena.“Clean it,” he said simply, his voice regaining that cold command. “Erase every trace. I want this entire place wiped.”Hale nodded immediately. “Already on it.”Elena finally tugged gently at Roman’s hand.“Come on,” she whispered. “You’re hurt. Let’s go home.”Roman blinked, as if realizing for the first time how much blood was on him.He gave a stiff nod, exhausted but still somehow alert, protective instincts humming even as adrenalin

Elena didn’t slam the door behind her.She didn’t have the strength.The mansion was quiet, too quiet, the kind of silence that presses against your ribs and makes you hear your own heartbeat louder than it should be.She took three steps into the foyer.Then four.By the seventh… her knees nearly buckled.Not from injury.From everything else.From the weight that had been sitting on her chest, from the sight of Lysandra’s hands on Roman’s face, from the way he’d let her cling to him even if he hadn’t meant to.Her ribs throbbed.Her side burned.Her vision blurred for a second too long.But Elena kept walking. Because collapsing in the foyer would look weak. And she refused, absolutely refused, to give the universe the satisfaction.She reached the first staircase. Placed her hand on the rail. Took in a shaky breath she despised herself for.Just the stairs.Just get up the stairs.Just...Her foot missed the edge of the step.Her body lurched.She caught the railing, barely, finger

Roman swallowed, lowered his forehead for a moment, and forced himself to speak.“Elena. Look at me.”She didn’t.“Elena.”Slowly, painfully, she turned her head until her eyes met his.Roman’s chest tightened at how much she was trying to hide behind that empty expression.“I wasn’t busy,” he said quietly. “Not with anything that mattered.”Elena’s lashes lowered.He reached out, gently placing two fingers beneath her chin and lifting it. “Lysandra means nothing to me.”The words were steady.Final.True.Elena didn’t flinch, but she didn’t believe him either. He saw it in the tiny shift of her gaze.He leaned closer, voice dropping.“Nothing she says, nothing she was… none of it compares to what I saw tonight.”Her breath hitched.“You fought beside me,” Roman whispered. “You nearly died for me. You’ve been bleeding and bruised all night and still you tried to walk up the stairs alone because you didn’t want to burden me.”He cupped her cheek with a featherlight touch.“She has no p

A political flag watermark.He zoomed in, decrypted the signature, Vauxhaul.Jace cursed so loudly he startled himself.“Shit.. no, no, no, this is bad, this is really bad.”A senator.A whole damn senator.Not just any senator.One of the top five names you didn’t want poking at you if you had a secret identity.Jace tightened his jaw.“Elena… who the hell did you make mad now?”But he didn’t panic.He acted.Fast.He slammed his palms across the keyboard, running a full network shift.Every digital trace of the real Elena Sinclair?Vanished.Her hacker roots?Deleted.Her assassin movements?Locked behind ten layers of military grade encryption.Her missions?Gone.Listening to his best friend’s voice ring in his head, ‘I don’t get caught, Jace. My identity never slips.’“You’re damn right it doesn’t,” he muttered.Then he did the only thing he could do. He rebuilt her entire digital footprint.Not the truth.But the lie she had always let the world believe.The lie that kept her sa

Silence.A beat passed.Two.Their eyes held.No battlefield.No ambush.No gunfire.Just morning light, soft sheets, bandages, bruises, warmth they didn’t know how to name.Then Roman’s voice dipped low, almost a confession: “You don’t have to act tough right now.”Her jaw tensed.She hated how much she wanted to lean into him again.“I’m not acting,” she lied effortlessly. “I am tough.”Roman reached out and, so gently she almost didn’t notice, brushed his thumb along her cheekbone where a shadow of purple marked last night’s bruise.“I know,” he murmured. “That’s why I’m staying close.”Elena’s breath caught.Roman stood then, only releasing her when he absolutely had to, and he pulled on a shirt, slowly, careful of his bandaged shoulder.“Breakfast?” he asked, casual but attentive. “I’ll have the kitchen send something up.”Elena waved a dismissive hand.“Whatever. Just don’t hover.”Roman’s lips tipped into a slow, secret smile as he headed to the door, because they both knew he