Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 21 - Chapitre 30

Elena Montrose’s POVThe night pressed in around me, a suffocating stillness. I could barely breathe as I lay there, staring up at the darkened ceiling of the villa. The soft rustling of trees in the distance was the only sound, but even that felt too loud in the silence that stretched between Damien and me. The weight of everything that had happened, everything we’d uncovered hung over us like a thick fog, choking out any peace.I shifted in the bed, pulling the covers closer despite the heat. My leg throbbed, a constant reminder of the chaos that had unfolded hours before, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. It wasn’t just the physical pain; it was everything I had learned. The explosion, the secrets, and the realization that Damien had been caught up in something far bigger than either of us. And now, I was trapped in this web, struggling to find a way out.I closed my eyes, hoping sleep would bring some relief. But instead, it brought only nightmares.Flames, So m

Elena Montrose’s POV“What did you say?”Reid stepped forward.“Damien doesn’t know. No one does. But the truth is, your father didn’t die in that fire.”My knees buckled. “You’re lying.”“Am I?”He leaned down, his breath cold against my skin.“Ask yourself this, who benefits from a dead man’s legacy staying buried?Who stands to lose everything if the truth comes out?”He straightened. “You wanted the truth, Elena. Now you have it.”He turned to go.And then, just before he disappeared into the night, he said one final thing: “Your father is still alive.”The villa Damien had taken me to after the explosion was high in the cliffs, secluded and shielded by thick forest and security no one could breach without setting off alarms loud enough to shake the earth.But it was too quiet.Too still.The kind of silence that made the lies between us hum louder.I stood at the balcony’s edge, watching mist curl between the pines like smoke from a ghost fire. The hacker was dead. Milo—the one

Elena Montrose’s POVThe rain had finally stopped by morning, but the villa still carried the weight of damp shadows. I moved through the quiet halls barefoot, drawn by a strange restlessness in my chest. Something had shifted. Last night’s whisper “What do you want me to do with her?” - Still echoed in my skull like a curse.Charlotte was dangerous. That much was clear.I passed Damien’s study, his door ajar. He was on a call, his voice low and curt. I paused long enough to catch a few words “Keep surveillance on all entries… I want a full report on who accessed the servers last week”.Tension bristled at the edge of his tone. He was suspicious of everyone now. Maybe even me. When I reached the master bedroom, I found myself moving toward the mahogany dresser by the window. Damien never let anyone touch the top drawer. That made it irresistible.My fingers trembled as I eased it open.Inside, amid the chaos of cufflinks and sealed envelopes, was something I hadn’t seen in years.A wa

Elena Montrose’s POVI’d always believed danger would come in shadows, in distant phone calls or veiled threats coded in silence. I didn’t expect it to knock on our front door in broad daylight.The villa had settled into a deceptive calm since Damien’s ex-fiancée departed, leaving behind a heavy silence and a sharper wedge of doubt between us. I hadn’t spoken to him much since “The Night of Almost” We’d both withdrawn, nursing old wounds and the taste of a kiss that never happened.But quiet wasn’t safe.And when the housekeeper brought me coffee that morning, her hands trembling slightly, I should’ve known.Something was wrong.Damien had gone out back to make a secure call, leaving me alone in the study. I was flipping through one of the files Milo had decrypted before his death, useless fragments, timestamps, a few more references to “Viper” when I heard the softest sound behind me.The click of a safety being released.I turned slowly.He stood at the threshold - Colton, one of D

Elena’s POVThe quiet hum of the villa at dawn should have been soothing. The storm had passed, leaving only the distant sound of rainwater trickling down the gutters. But the air in the room felt thick - heavy with unspoken words, unfinished conversations, and the weight of everything that had unfolded over the past few days.Damien still lay unconscious, his breathing shallow but steady. The bandages on his shoulder had been replaced during the night, and his skin was pale, drained of color. But the subtle rise and fall of his chest gave me a sense of relief. The doctor had said the bullet wouldn’t kill him, but seeing him like this - vulnerable, at the mercy of whatever had brought him to this point - stirred something in me that I wasn’t ready to face.I couldn’t look away from him.My mind kept racing, flipping through everything I’d discovered. The flash drive. The contract. The confirmation that my father hadn’t just fallen victim to a fire, but had been deeply involved in some