บททั้งหมดของ CRUEL OBSESSION : บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

CHAPTER 60 — ESCALATION The morning sunlight did nothing to lighten the mood. The Westwood estate seemed colder than usual, shadows stretched longer, corners darker. Even Damien felt it as he strode through the grand halls, each step echoing ominously. He found Sienna in the private library, already reviewing more documents—this time, old letters from her mother to unknown recipients, many redacted, some burned along the edges. Her face was pale but determined, eyes sharp as daggers. “You’ve been at this all night,” Damien said, voice low. “I can’t stop,” Sienna replied without looking up. “Dante’s already moving. I can feel it. And Vanessa… she won’t wait long.” Damien’s jaw tightened. “We’ll deal with both of them. Together.” “I know,” she said softly. “But Damien… it’s worse than we thought. The files don’t just show Dante’s interest in my mother’s past. They implicate someone in the Westwood family.” He froze. “Who?” Sienna hesitated. “Charles.” The word hung

CHAPTER 63 — THE FIRST CUT Power didn’t fall all at once. It bled. Sienna learned that within hours of the attack. The Westwood estate was locked down—security doubled, phones monitored, staff vetted. On the surface, it looked like control had been restored. In reality, it was panic wearing a tailored suit. She felt it in the way people avoided her eyes. In the way conversations stopped when she entered a room. In the way Charles watched her now—not with disdain, but calculation. Fear. She sat in the study with Damien, a tablet open between them, screens filled with financial maps, shell companies, offshore accounts. The language of power. The language the Westwoods understood best. “This isn’t just Dante,” Sienna said quietly. “He doesn’t move alone.” Damien nodded. “He never has.” She zoomed in on a highlighted node. “This account. It’s feeding three others. All routed through a logistics firm registered under a ghost board.” Damien’s eyes narrowed. “That firm belongs t

CHAPTER 65 — THE THINGS THAT DON’T WASH OFF The blood didn’t come off. Sienna scrubbed her hands until the skin burned, until the water in the sink ran pink and then clear and then pink again—but the feeling stayed. The memory stayed. The sound stayed. The gunshot echoed in her skull like a second heartbeat. She stopped scrubbing only when Damien’s hands closed gently around her wrists. “That’s enough,” he said quietly. She didn’t look at him. “I can still feel it.” “I know.” The bathroom was too bright. Too clean. It made what she’d done feel unreal, like it had happened to someone else—someone colder, sharper, more monstrous. But it had been her finger on the trigger. Her choice. Damien wrapped a towel around her hands, blotting instead of rubbing. Careful. Like she was fragile glass instead of a woman who had just taken a life. “I didn’t hesitate,” she said suddenly. He stilled. “I thought I would,” she continued, voice flat. “I thought I’d freeze or scream or throw u

CHAPTER 67 — THE SILENCE BEFORE HE STRIKES The phone didn’t ring again. That was worse. Sienna sat on the edge of the bed long after Damien left the room, the burner phone resting on the nightstand like a live thing—quiet, waiting, smug in its stillness. Dante didn’t need to say anything else. He had already said enough. I see you. I can reach you. I’m patient. She hated how calm that made him feel in her bones. The house shifted into lockdown mode without anyone needing to say the word. Doors were secured. Guards doubled. Routes were altered. Damien’s men moved like pieces on a board only he could see. Sienna watched it all from the margins, the way she always had. But this time, she wasn’t invisible. She was the reason. She went to Annabelle’s room just after midnight. Her mother slept peacefully, chest rising and falling beneath thin blankets, IV lines humming softly beside her. For a moment, Sienna allowed herself to imagine a future where this was all over—where Anna

⸻ CHAPTER 69 — WHAT POWER ASKS FOR The first rule Damien gave her was simple. Never assume you’re alone. Sienna learned it the hard way—by noticing the absence of sound. No footsteps. No murmurs from the guards outside her door. No soft hum of the house settling into itself. Just quiet. Thick. Intentional. She sat up in bed slowly, heart steady but alert. The lights were still on. The door was still locked. But something had shifted. She reached for the burner phone instinctively. No new messages. That didn’t mean anything. It meant everything. She stood, pulling on boots, movements deliberate. Fear made people sloppy. She refused to give Dante that satisfaction. When she opened the door, Damien was already there. “You felt it too,” he said. “Yes.” They didn’t explain it to each other. They didn’t need to. They walked side by side down the corridor, the house revealing itself inch by inch—corners intact, windows sealed, guards posted but tense. Everyone felt it. No