All Chapters of The Ultimatum Wife: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

Elena flew up the stairs.Two at a time. Three.She turned the corner into the master hallway and smelled it immediately.Blood.Her vision narrowed.The bedroom door was wide open.She crossed the threshold just as Roman pulled someone into his arms, clutching the body to his chest like it might fall apart if he let go.His shirt was soaked through, hands shaking, breath ragged.“Elena...” he gasped when he saw her, voice breaking. “Elena.. thank God...”Her eyes dropped.To the bed.To the silk dress she recognized instantly.To the body lying where she should have been.Lysandra Vauxhaul stared lifelessly at the ceiling, eyes wide and empty, face destroyed beyond recognition, blood pooled dark and obscene against the sheets Elena had slept in the night before.The world stopped.Elena didn’t scream.She didn’t gasp.She simply… went very still.Roman crushed her into him then, arms iron tight, like he needed to feel her breathing to believe it. His entire body trembled.“They shot

Jace was still standing there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, when a familiar black SUV eased to the curb.The window rolled down.“Hale?” Jace blinked. “Uh… hey?”Hale didn’t smile. He never did when things were normal, but this was different. His expression was closed, professional in a way that made Jace’s stomach tighten.“Get in,” Hale said calmly. “Elena sent me.”Jace frowned as he opened the door and slid into the back seat. “She said she’d come herself. What’s going on?”Hale pulled back into traffic smoothly, eyes fixed on the road. “She’ll explain when you get there.”“That’s not an answer,” Jace said, trying to keep it light but failing. “Did I do something?”“No,” Hale replied immediately.That was somehow worse.Jace leaned back, arms crossing over his chest as the city blurred past the windows. He watched Hale’s reflection in the rearview mirror, searching for something. Anything.“Is Roman okay?” Jace asked.Hale’s jaw tightened a fraction. “Everyone’s alive.”

Jace sat on the edge of the guest room bed at the estate, phone cradled in both hands like it might bite him.Marcus’s message glowed softly on the screen.Just got home. Did you end up meeting Elena like you said? Or are you still out?It was so… normal.So Marcus.The same easy tone. The same casual concern. The same man who’d brought him flowers, listened to him talk too much, apologized when he thought he’d hurt him. The same man who had held him without rushing, without taking.How could that person be dangerous?Jace’s thumb hovered over the keyboard, unmoving.Around him, the house felt different now. Not hostile. Just alert. Like a held breath stretched too long.Hale had stationed security outside the room. Elena had checked on him twice already, her voice gentle but her eyes sharp, scanning him like she was memorizing his face.We just need you to stay put tonight, she’d said. No texts. No calls. Just… trust me.Trust me.That was the problem.He trusted Marcus too.Jace lea

The man laughed weakly, hysterical. “Because… because they said Roman wouldn’t be functional afterward.”The room went still.Roman’s breath hitched.Elena’s eyes sharpened. “Explain.”“They wanted you dead in front of him,” the man babbled. “They said the point wasn’t just the kill. It was the aftermath. Break the man. Make him reckless.”Elena closed her eyes briefly.When she opened them, there was no mercy left at all.“Who,” she said, “wanted Roman broken.”The man’s shoulders slumped. He knew the moment had come. “The funding came through proxies,” he whispered. “But the pressure… the insistence… that was political.”Roman let out a low, furious laugh. “Vauxhaul.”Elena nodded once. “And Mrs. Harrow.”The man nodded frantically. “She wanted proof. Immediate. Didn’t care who saw it. Just wanted you gone.”Elena stepped back, crossing her arms. “Did you check the body.”“No,” he admitted. “Three shots. Picture. Done.”A flicker of something dangerous crossed Elena’s face.“Good,”

If the killers had fired into the bed without checking...If they’d assumed...His hand tightened around the glass until it threatened to shatter.“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he whispered.He lifted the drink to his lips but couldn’t swallow. His mind raced ahead, connecting threads he’d been so sure were neatly tied.If Lysandra was dead in Elena’s place.. Then Elena Sinclair might still be alive.And if she was alive…Vauxhaul’s stomach dropped.He thought of Roman Thorne. Of the quiet menace in Elena’s eyes. Of the warning the police hadn’t said out loud but had let linger between their words.New information has come to light.He set the glass down slowly, dread settling deep and heavy in his chest.“My God,” he breathed.Because if Elena Sinclair had survived...Then Lysandra hadn’t just died in an accident.She had died in a war her father had helped ignite. And Senator Vauxhaul, standing alone in his grand, suddenly hollow house, understood with terrifying clarity that wh