บททั้งหมดของ Shattered Vows : บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

ElenaThe moment the wheels touched down in London, something shifted in my chest.Not fear. Not excitement.Resolve.It had been nearly five months since I left this city behind—since I ran with Noah, covered in bruises and betrayal. And now I was walking straight back into the lion’s den, not as prey, but as someone who had studied the beast.Noah tugged at my coat as we stepped through customs.“Will I see Daddy again?”I knelt beside him, brushing a curl from his cheek.“Maybe,” I said softly. “But only when it’s safe. And only when he remembers how to be kind.”He nodded, understanding in that eerie, intuitive way only children do. My son wasn’t the same little boy who used to wait by the door for his father to come home. He had changed too. We both had.Lucas met us outside Heathrow in a black car with tinted windows.“Nice to see you in one piece,” he said, but his voice was strained. He looked thinner, paler—haunted. “You ready for

ElenaI always imagined the last time I’d see Daniel would be dramatic.Maybe a courtroom. Maybe a hospital bed. Something loud. Cinematic.But life rarely plays to fantasy.It was raining—of course. A cold drizzle that felt like a memory. I was walking back from the pharmacy, a bag of cough syrup and chocolate in hand, when I saw him.Leaning against the hood of a silver sedan parked half a block from the safehouse.Soaked.Still in his favorite tailored coat, only now it looked like it was wearing him. His hair was unkempt. Cheeks hollow. Eyes wild.“Daniel,” I said, not in anger or shock, but something duller.He straightened. “Elena.”It was the first time I’d heard his voice in weeks.“I thought I’d imagined you,” he added, stepping closer. “You look… different.”“I am.”He gave a hollow laugh. “You made sure of that.”I tightened my grip on the bag. “You shouldn’t be here.”“They took everything, Elena. The house. My

ElenaWhen I first called Lucas Grey, I told myself it was purely strategic.An old flame with a new title—partner at one of the most powerful legal firms in Europe. A man who once knew me better than anyone… before I became someone I no longer recognized.But as I watched him now—suit pristine, eyes unreadable, standing in the candlelit kitchen of the safehouse like a specter from another life—I knew I hadn’t just called him for help.I’d called him for comfort. For clarity.For something that resembled truth in a world built on lies.He poured two glasses of red wine, handed me one, then sat across the counter.“You’ve always been a storm,” he said softly. “Even when you didn’t realize it.”I took the glass but didn’t drink. “Don’t romanticize me, Lucas. I’m not the girl you left behind.”“No,” he agreed. “You’re stronger now. Sharper. More dangerous.”I let out a small laugh. “And yet, you still came.”He sipped his wine, watching me ov

ElenaThe world didn’t end with a bang. It cracked—quietly, methodically, like ice splitting beneath your feet.The morning after the livestream, my phone was dead from the surge of calls, messages, media requests. My name was everywhere—on headlines, in hashtags, whispered in newsrooms.But the high didn’t last.Not when the real weight of truth began to fall.Kate paced the chalet’s living room, phone pressed to her ear, voice tight. “Interpol confirmed the warrant. Daniel’s officially a fugitive.”Sophie sat at the window, knees pulled to her chest, watching the snowfall like it could cleanse the past. She hadn’t spoken since the broadcast. I knew what silence like that meant. Not guilt. Grief. The death of a version of yourself you pretended to be okay with.Lucas stood in the doorway, arms crossed. He hadn’t left my side.And me? I was numb.The truth was out.The world had rallied.But justice?Justice was a slow burn.“I’m s

ElenaThe silence after the storm is deceptive.It tricks you into thinking the worst is over. That healing is inevitable. That the chaos can’t touch you anymore.But I knew better.The moment Sophie took the stand and turned on Daniel, the game shifted. But it didn’t end. Not even close.I sat at the kitchen table in Lucas’s apartment—somewhere safe but unfamiliar—nursing a lukewarm mug of tea, unable to sleep. My body ached, not from injury, but from weeks of emotional exhaustion, of surviving blow after blow. My nerves were raw. My heart, colder than I thought it could be.Across from me, Lucas typed away on his laptop, combing through the files Sophie had provided. Emails. Voice memos. Contracts. Names of shell companies.Daniel wasn’t just guilty of emotional betrayal.He was legally toxic now.“This… this could bury him,” Lucas muttered. “Sophie wasn’t just a distraction. She was a witness.”I watched him, trying to focus on his words, b