His To Ruin のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 141 - チャプター 150

The room smelled like sweat, perfume, and money.Victor’s head was buried in the crook of the woman’s neck, her laughter a faint echo beneath the hum of the air conditioner. Her hands moved against him, her body pliant, but there was nothing real in it, just motion, friction, noise.He moved because it made him forget. Or tried to. The weight in his chest wouldn’t lift. The image of Ivy, her silence, her distance, her defiance, haunted every breath he took.He wanted to erase her. Replace her. Punish her for how small she made him feel.But no matter how deep he sank into another woman, he still saw Ivy’s eyes. Still heard her voice. Still felt that no that ruined everything.The woman beneath him moaned, and it almost made him angry, that she could pretend this was something. That she didn’t know she was nothing more than a placeholder.Then the phone started ringing.Once.Twice.Again.Victor ignored it, teeth clenched, trying to drown in rhythm again. But the sound kept slicing thr

The world was on fire, and for once, I wasn’t the one burning.The TV flickered in front of us, every news station replaying my video. My voice. My face. My truth.Killian and I sat in the small living room of the safe house, the curtains drawn tight, the world outside losing its mind. Reporters. Commentators. Hashtags. Everyone had an opinion, and every single one of them had seen me.Victor Wolfe’s name was trending, but not for glory. But I am trending for glory, for being a survivor. I watched the screen in quiet fascination. His car was swarmed by reporters, camera flashes bursting like lightning in a storm. He looked trapped, cornered, helpless, humiliated. I could almost taste his rage through the screen, and it made something inside me… hum.Killian’s arm was heavy around my shoulder, grounding me in that steady, dangerous calm he carried like a second skin. “He’s losing it,” he murmured, voice low and edged with satisfaction.I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. Because all I felt w

The moment the gates cracked open, blinding flashes swallowed the night.The black SUVs pushed through the crowd, tires screeching, men in dark suits spilling out before the vehicles had even stopped moving.Victor sat stiff in the backseat, jaw grinding, his pulse a thunderstorm under his skin. The tinted glass couldn’t keep out the noise, the shouting, the camera shutters, the barrage of questions that clawed at the edges of his sanity.“Victor! Is it true Ivy Lancaster exposed the marriage arrangement?”“Were you forcing her to marry you?”“Did your brother help her escape?”He could barely breathe. Every word felt like a knife twisting deeper.One of the guards yanked his door open. “Sir, please, we need to move. Keep your head down.”Victor stepped out, face half covered by a jacket one of them threw over his shoulders. The air outside was chaos, reporters pushing, microphones thrust forward, flashes exploding like lightning.“Mr. Wolfe! Did Ivy leave you for Killian?”That one

The world was on fire, and I was finally warm.Every network, every feed, every flashing headline carried our truth. My truth. The Wolfes were bleeding publicly, their empire trembling beneath the weight of what they built. For the first time, I didn’t feel like prey. I felt like the storm.Killian and I sat together on the couch, the television flickering against the walls. Reporters screamed questions outside the Wolfe estate. Victor was being dragged through cameras and chaos, his perfect mask shattered. Robert’s empire, untouchable, immaculate, was beginning to crack.Killian’s arm was around me, heavy and grounding, his thumb tracing slow circles along my skin. His jaw was tense, eyes locked on the screen, but I could feel the pulse in his chest, wild and uneven. Killian thumb tracing lazy circles on my thigh, and I felt it, my body still hot from the kiss, and that wicked, rising pulse of victory. The power of finally watching the tables turn.The world had always told me to be s

The phone buzzed again.Same number. Same name.My mom.She’d been calling since last night, even while the world outside burned. I hadn’t answered, not then, not when the headlines rolled in, not when Victor’s face filled every news feed. But this time, I did.“Killian.” Her voice hit the line before I could speak, sharp, tight, trembling between anger and fear. “You finally picked up.”I leaned back against the edge of the desk, staring at the muted television in the corner, Victor’s outburst replaying again in slow motion, every punch, every curse immortalized by the cameras.“I’m here,” I said evenly.“You’re here?” Her voice cracked, raw with disbelief. “You’re here? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What you’ve started?” A pause, sharp as glass. “Victor is your brother, Killian. Your brother. You shouldn’t have thrown him to the wolves.”The irony wasn’t lost on either of us.My jaw tightened. “He would’ve thrown me first,” I said quietly. “You know that.”“That doesn’t mat