جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 160

Elena let out the softest sigh, placing a hand on her forehead like a fragile Victorian heroine. “I’ve been nothing but cooperative. And polite. And kind. I spoke to a charity group just last week…”Roman stared at her.Stunned.A woman who could kill ten men with a spoon… pretending she needed help walking down stairs.God help him.Jace stepped forward, shoulders squared like a bodyguard from a telenovela.“Officers,” he said dramatically, “look at her. Does she LOOK like she killed anyone?”Elena pretended to wipe a single nonexistent tear.The lead officer shifted uncomfortably. “Ma’am, it’s protocol...”Roman spoke.Low.Quiet.Final.“No one is taking my wife anywhere.”The air stilled.“Mr. Thorne...” one officer began.“I said,” Roman repeated, “no one. Touches. My wife.”He stepped between Elena and the officers, his presence suffocating in the most calculated way.“You have no warrant,” Roman continued. “No evidence. No legal grounds. Nothing except the shaky word of a senat

Roman groaned low in his throat, a sound he immediately buried against her skin, and Elena felt it vibrate through her like a spark running through a fuse line.“Tell me,” he whispered against her jaw, “if this is too much.”“It isn’t,” she breathed, fingers tightening around him. “Roman…”That was all he needed.He held her closer, kissed her harder, their breaths mixing, their bodies pressed together, heat rising until the room itself felt too small to contain them.The world outside the locked door didn’t exist anymore.Just Roman.Just Elena.For a long moment, neither of them moved.The storm that had pulled them together settled into a warm, steady thrum.Elena rested against Roman’s chest, her breathing soft and uneven, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles at his collar.Roman held her like he was afraid she’d flicker out of existence if he loosened his grip. One arm around her waist. The other tangled in her hair. His chin resting lightly against the top of her head.His

Jace was still riding high on the thrill of driving Elena’s ridiculously expensive car.He had the windows cracked, music vibrating through the leather seats, and he kept whispering to himself, “I am a king. A legend. Sabrina and I were meant to be.”He was two seconds from posting a brag photo when...His phone rang.Unknown number.Jace froze.His hand hovered over the screen like it was a bomb.“…Should I answer?” he whispered to the empty car. “It could be a scammer. Or Work. Or...”His breath hitched.“…or him.”Marcus.The handsome guy from the mall. Tall, calm, lethal posture disguised under a soft smile.Jace bit his lip, stared at the phone again.“Okay,” he muttered. “If it’s a kidnapper, at least I’m in a fast car.”He answered.“Hello??”A pause. Warm. Deep. Familiar.“Jace?”Jace’s soul left his body.“M… Marcus???”Marcus gave a soft laugh that should’ve been illegal. “Yeah. Sorry for the late call. I got your number from the coffee shop earlier, they remembered you.”“T

The Thorne mansion lights warmed the driveway as Hale pulled to a smooth stop.Roman got out first, automatically offering his hand to Elena.She took it without hesitation, a small gesture that still electrified him.They stepped inside.The main maid, Lila, immediately hurried over, hands clasped politely.“Mrs. Thorne,” she said with a smile, “your packages arrived this morning. Quite a few of them. Very heavy.” She gestured upstairs. “I had the staff take everything to your personal workspace, the one you requested when you moved in.”Roman stopped walking.“Packages?” he repeated slowly.Elena nodded as if she had ordered makeup, not a miniature cyberwar arsenal. “Yes. I told them to expect deliveries.”Roman’s eyes narrowed slightly, interest sparking beneath the calm.Lila continued, unaware of the danger she just walked into. “Oh yes, sir, a full team had to carry everything. There were… monitors, processors, wiring systems, heavy cases… and something that looked like a vault.

Marcus paused. It was subtle. Barely a shift in his shoulders, barely a softening in the line of his mouth.But the other man caught it immediately.Marcus leaned back against the counter, eyes distant. “Elena Thorne,” he murmured, “is not what they think she is.”“Obviously,” the man scoffed. “No heiress builds a reputation like that without hiding something.”Marcus shook his head slowly. “No,” he said. “Not that. She’s… sharper. Dangerous. Calculated. She’s building something. Preparing for something.”The man frowned. “And you sound impressed.”Marcus didn’t answer right away. His tone wasn’t mocking. Not dismissive. More… thoughtful.“People underestimate her,” he finally said. “They look at her and see an airheaded socialite. But Elena Sinclair is something else entirely.”“You sound like you admire her,” the man teased.Marcus’s eyes lowered.Not with softness.With respect.“That woman,” he said quietly, “could kill a man in thirty seconds and make the world believe she fainte