Semua Bab Love in the Line of Fire: Bab 91 - Bab 100

“What the hell was that?” Ethan hissed as soon as they were out of Adam Meyer’s earshot.“What was what?” She hissed back, her heart still beating a little too fast.“The pleasure is all mine, sir!” Ethan parroted in a high, airy pitch, perfectly mimicking the voice she’d used—right down to the god-awful giggle that’d followed. She cringed away from him, staring at him with a grimace.“I sounded like that?”“Yes. One second ago you were all pale and distracted and the other you’re giggling and squealing like a teenager after her first kiss?”She rolled her eyes as they stopped in front of a white door.“It’s called acting. Which reminds me, where did you learn how to lie so smoothly? Making up a name on the spot? That was impressive.”He took an exaggerated bow, flashing her a grin, all dimples and mischief.“I’m a fuckboy by profession. Lying’s part of the game. And the name? Got a list for those. Arranged alphabetically and all.”He winked as he pushed the door open.She rolled her

“What did you find? What gave it away that this was a trap?” Calix asked softly.The calm in his voice clashed violently with the storm brewing inside Ilana.She opened her fist and handed the now crumpled up photo to him.“She left it for me.” Ilana said, her voice hollow. “She wanted me to know she’s got me exactly where she wanted.” Calix exhaled shakily and reached for her hand. She let him take it, but even his touch couldn’t anchor her this time.“Guys,” A voice called from behind them and Ilana almost jumped out of her skin.She got up from the bed and whirled around, her nerves ablaze with that fight or flight response.Ethan stared at her with side eyes, his hands thrown up in surrender at Ilana’s sudden aggression.She’d almost forgotten he was still here.“Oh, fucking hell, Ethan,” she whispered, her shoulders sinking with relief.“Sorry,” he said quickly, eyeing her warily as he slowly put his hands down. “But what the fuck is going on here? You both look like you’ve step

The corridor stretched out before him, dimly lit and lined with shadows. Outside the tall windows, dusk had surrendered to night—the last streaks of sunlight drowned beneath a velvet sky. From below, the muted hum of voices drifted up like rising smoke: the gala had begun.Calix adjusted his mask and straightened the lapels of his suit as he turned the final corner. Two guards stood flanking Josephine’s door, both armed, both tense. Their eyes snapped to him the moment his footsteps echoed down the hall.He resisted the urge to touch the earpiece pressed into his ear or shift the weight of the gun digging coldly into his hip.He’d watched Ilana do this—walk into danger like she owned it, guilt and nerves buried beneath steel-edged confidence. That was what tonight demanded of him. No hesitation. No fidgeting. No cracks in the performance.“Sir,” one of them said, stepping forward, hand subtly brushing the butt of his weapon. “This wing’s restricted for the night. No one’s allowed in.

he crystal flute felt cool in Calix’s hand, condensation slipping down the stem. He offered the waiter a polite nod, mind only half-present, the other half focused entirely on his mother.Josephine looked radiant. Whole.Her fingers tightened slightly around his arm, a small, grounding gesture. It had always been like this at galas—her hand at his elbow, his posture straight, both of them performing the dance of the perfect family.He wanted to believe they’d made it. That they were really walking out of this nightmare.He didn’t notice the waiter linger. Not right away.“Lovely night, isn’t it?” the man said, voice low, voice wrong.Calix looked up.Something inside him stalled.The waiter was smiling. Too much. Too wide.And his eyes—blue, sharp, too familiar.Calix blinked, suddenly cold. He knew those eyes. Not from memories, but from the files Ilana had shown him.The face was different—glasses, beard, shadows—but the eyes didn’t lie.Nathan.He felt his stomach drop, felt it lik

The door clicked shut behind Nathan, and the echo of his footsteps faded down the hall. Calix twisted in the chair again, hard enough to make the zip ties bite deeper into his skin.“Shit,” he hissed, blinking sweat from his eyes. “Ilana—he’s going after Ilana—”His split lip pulsed with pain.“The woman who tried to kill me?” Josephine’s voice broke through, calm. Too calm. Not fearful, not accusatory. Just a question—as if asking about the weather.“Yes,” Calix breathed. “But she’s not the same. She came here to save you.”Josephine nodded, like she’d already suspected as much. Her eyes met his, full of quiet understanding. No need for explanations.He blinked, stunned. “How are you not freaking out right now?”“Because panic won’t help her,” she replied, low and deliberate. “But thinking might.”She flexed her hands against the zip ties—once, twice—testing the give.“We’ve got a window. Small, but it’s something.”Calix looked at her again—really looked. His fragile, fading mother