All Chapters of Until The Lie Loved Me: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Chapter Twelve*Celeste*The suitcase clicked shut with a finality that felt like a funeral.I stood over it, palms pressed against the hard shell, trying not to cry. My bedroom—once pristine, once mine—was in chaos. Drawers yanked open. Closet half-empty. The life I’d built, now reduced to a duffel and a carry-on.He stood in the doorway.Not Jordan.Not even a stranger anymore.Just a ghost wearing a familiar skin.I didn’t speak to him. Couldn’t. Not without crumbling under the weight of it all. The betrayal, the truth, the surreal ache of losing a husband I hadn’t even loved—and gaining a man I wasn’t sure I could hate.“You ready?” he asked gently.I zipped my coat without answering.The house groaned as we moved through it, every creak of the floorboards a goodbye. I paused by the piano, the one Jordan never let me touch. My fingers grazed a single key, and the soft note echoed in the silence like a memory.Outside, a black SUV idled.I hesitated at the threshold, staring at the

*Celeste* The name echoed like gunfire in my head. Ilyan Roarke. I’d never heard it before—not once in all the years I’d smiled through charity galas or sat quietly at lavish dinner parties by my husband’s side. But I could feel it in my bones now. The weight of that name. The threat coiled behind it. Roarke wasn’t just the man who’d paid to erase me. He was the reason my life had been rewritten. I didn’t know what he looked like. Didn’t know why I mattered to him. But as Nova’s words hung in the air, the certainty locked in like a blade against my spine: This wasn’t just about Elias. It was about me. “You’re sure?” Elias asked, voice low but sharp enough to cut through steel. Nova didn’t flinch. “I traced the contract back three different ways. The alias led to a shell company. The shell company led to a numbered account. And guess who’s the only one arrogant enough to sign off on a black contract with a biometric lock?” She tossed him a small drive. “Yours to

Celeste The moment we crossed into Charleston, the air changed. It tasted like memory. Like panic wrapped in perfume. I kept my eyes on the road ahead, but the skyline made it impossible to forget. Every steel edge, every glass window, reminded me of a life lived behind them one where I smiled for photos, kept quiet at dinners, and learned how to cry silently into thousand-thread-count sheets. Now I was coming back with a gun tucked against my spine and the weight of a man’s lies in my pocket. I didn’t know if I was returning home… or walking into a trap. Beside me, Elias hadn’t spoken in over twenty minutes. He was watching the mirrors like a wolf scenting blood, the tendons in his hands tight against the steering wheel. “You don’t have to come inside,” I said, not because I wanted him to stay behind but because if something went wrong, I wanted at least one of us to make it out alive. Elias didn’t look at me. “I’m not letting you walk into that place alone.” The

Celeste The first thing I noticed when I woke was the cold. Not the kind that comes from air conditioning or poor insulation. No this was the kind of cold that wrapped around your bones like a warning. The kind of cold that only made sense when you realized something was missing. Elias. His side of the car was empty. Driver's seat vacant. Door ajar. The blanket we’d shared lay folded across the console, untouched, too neat. Too intentional. I sat up quickly, heart already racing. "Elias?" No answer. I shoved open the door and stepped outside into the damp morning air. Mist clung low over the grass, and the rusted Shell sign above the gas station creaked softly in the breeze. Nothing. No sign of struggle. No note. No tire marks. Just... gone. He left me. The thought hit like a punch to the chest. Not because I didn't expect it. But because deep down, I thought maybe just maybe he'd stay this time. I turned in a slow circle, scanning the horizon, listening. Wai

Celeste The roads out of the safehouse were slick with morning fog. Mist curled around the trees like fingers tugging at the hem of reality, and I gripped the wheel tighter to keep my hands from shaking. Carmen had given me a vehicle an old matte-black Jeep, dented, armored, and too damn loud. Nova slipped me a burner phone, two clips, and a shoulder holster before she disappeared again with a grin and the words: “Now you’re really one of us.” I wasn’t. Not yet. But I was done being just someone’s target. Someone’s wife. Someone’s leverage. Now I was someone’s consequence. And God help them if they didn’t see it coming. --- “Are you sure about this?” Carmen had asked earlier, arms crossed, eyes narrowing the way they did when she saw a storm brewing. “No,” I told her honestly, loading the magazine into the Glock. “But I wasn’t sure about breathing yesterday either. Still did it.” She didn’t smile. But she didn’t stop me. “You’ll want to head west. Marrington.” That name a