บททั้งหมดของ Bound To The Devil's Heir : บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

Emilia’s POVThere are moments in life that reveal the architecture of you the load-bearing walls, the hidden basements, the places where a small crack will carry a building down. For me, the first of those moments came wrapped in ledger paper and a late-night meeting in Father’s private office. I had been sixteen, sharp as acid and hungry for the one thing my family never offered me: recognition.Damien was fourteen then, already being trained as if birthright could be sharpened like a blade. He moved through the house with the ease of the favored son, and Father’s gaze always found him first, like a sun that rose and never set.I learned to move around them both, to step into the seams that didn’t belong to anyone else. I learned where to listen. I learned that information could be armor if you knew how to wield it.It began with a shipment. A routine consignment of textiles seta, linens, the kind of cargo that should have gone unnoticed through our docks. I had been auditing ship

Emilia’s POVThe rain had just stopped when Emilia left the mansion. The air smelled of wet stone and iron gates, heavy with the kind of silence that pressed against the skin. She wore black, as she always did when she slipped into the night. Not for mourning no, she had stopped mourning a long time ago but for invisibility.Damien believed no one could walk past his guards without his knowledge. He thought the estate was airtight, that his eyes and ears stretched to every shadow. Emilia almost laughed at the thought. Her brother might command loyalty, but loyalty had cracks, and cracks were all she had ever needed.The car waiting for her wasn’t one of the Alaric fleet. Its windows were tinted darker than the law allowed, its driver one of Matthias’s men. He didn’t greet her when she entered; he simply drove, the tires splashing over the wet cobblestones as if erasing her tracks.She didn’t ask where they were going. She already knew.The abandoned glasshouse stood on the edge of a

Matthias point of View I am tired of this game.Every time I make a move, Damien Alaric cuts it down. Every man I send into that cursed mansion comes back in pieces or doesn’t come back at all. I can almost see his smug face in my mind, standing over their bodies like some king on his throne, holding his empire together with blood.But what he doesn’t realize is that blood runs out.Even his.I sit in the back room of the warehouse, the stink of gun oil and smoke thick in the air. The men around me keep their eyes low, afraid to meet mine. They should be. I’ve killed for less than a wrong look.One of my lieutenants clears his throat. “Boss, we lost Anton. Damien made a show of it… hung him up in front of his men.”I slam my fist on the table so hard the wood cracks. Rage shoots through me like fire in my veins. “I already know,” I growl. “I know because every time Damien makes a kill, he wants me to hear about it. He wants me to bleed without touching me.”Silence. No one dares brea

Serena’s POVI don’t know what Damien saw in that moment what calculation, what decision snapped into place but his gun didn’t fire.Instead, he gave a short nod toward the shadows, a signal I didn’t understand at first.And then they stepped out.Damien’s men. Hidden in the dark, guns raised, eyes locked on Matthias. The trap had been set before we even walked in.Matthias’s smirk faltered, but only for a breath. Then he laughed, low and harsh, the sound echoing through the warehouse. “Clever, Damien. You brought your army. Did you think this would be easy? That pinning me down would end it?”Damien’s voice was a razor. “You’ve been cutting into my life for too long. This ends now.”The men closed in, weapons steady. My heart raced, pounding against my ribs so hard it hurt. I expected Matthias to fight, to pull some hidden weapon, to spring a trick that would turn the entire scene into blood.But he didn’t. He simply stood there, hands lifted slightly, as if amused.“You really thin

Damien’s POVThe room was heavy with silence, the kind that presses down on your chest until breathing feels like a punishment. Only the crackling of the single bulb above us filled the space, a faint buzz that gnawed at the edges of my patience. My fists were already clenched, nails biting into my palms, because across from me sat the last person I ever thought I’d be staring down like this my own sister.Emilia.Her wrists were bound to the chair, ankles tied, hair disheveled from the scuffle that brought her here. She didn’t look afraid. That was the first thing that infuriated me. Not the attempt on Serena’s life, not the betrayal itself, but the calm defiance in her eyes as if she wanted me to see her hatred and choke on it.“Do you understand what you’ve done?” My voice was low, steady, the kind of calm that came before blood.Her lips curled into a half-smirk. “I understand perfectly, Damien. I tried to kill her. And if you hadn’t stopped me, she’d be dead.”The words struck