Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Wrong Kind Of Right: Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

Asher was still on the park bench when his phone vibrated in his coat pocket.He didn’t move for a long time.The screen kept lighting up, a small disruption in the numbed silence swallowing him whole.He finally reached for it, expecting another spam headline, maybe a company alert or something about a military buddy passing through.But no, it was Serena.Serena:I know you’re hurting. I’m… sorry. I saw the press. He just landed. It’s already all over the news.Asher stared at the message, jaw tightening.Of all the people, it was her. His sister. The one who’d manipulated the same way Luca had. The one who let this engagement keep rolling even though she knew exactly what her brother was going through, because it worked in her favor.He should’ve ignored her.He didn’t.He typed slowly, fingers stiff from the cold and the weight of everything he hadn’t said.Asher:Don’t worry about me. I’m good. You can go back to hiding your little secret in peace. Hope you and Luca have a perfec

Two years.Luca Virelli had become a master of them, days that bled into weeks, months into years, until time was just another performance. Another mask. Another thing to endure with grace, precision, and a ruthlessness so clean it bordered on beautiful.On paper, he had everything.CEO of Virelli Global, a multinational empire that swallowed markets whole. One half of Italy’s most powerful political marriage. A face carved by angels, expressionless as stone. At thirty, he commanded boardrooms like a monarch, controlled, calculating, unshakably composed.But behind closed doors, Luca was a man made entirely of restraint.The morning sunlight knifed through the glass walls of the Virelli estate’s eastern wing, gilding the marble floors in gold. Everything in the penthouse suite was sharp edged and sterile, obsidian counters, silent security panels, not a personal item in sight. A palace of perfection. A mausoleum with a view.Luca stood at the edge of the floor to ceiling window, sippi

The Virelli estate was nothing short of opulent.It sprawled across a private hillside on the outskirts of Rome, where the city’s ancient charm gave way to sleek, modern wealth. The estate itself was a fortress disguised as a palace, high walls, sprawling terraces, manicured gardens, and an architectural blend of tradition and innovation. Every angle screamed power, influence, and untouchability.It was Asher’s job to dismantle that illusion.Or rather, Kieran Wolfe’s.He stood at the estate’s main entrance, flanked by his team: Julian, sharp and observant as ever; Rhea, their tech lead with piercing green eyes and a voice like cold steel, and Malik, an imposing figure who rarely spoke but didn’t need to. Together, they were the core of Wolfguard’s Rome detail, a handpicked group meant to blend in and disappear while staying three steps ahead of any threat.A private butler ushered them inside, his polished shoes clicking softly against the marble floor. “The head of household securit

Asher stood, walked to the coffee machine, poured black espresso with the same mechanical calm he used to disassemble rifles.The steam curled upward, warm and silent.Julian spoke again, slower this time. “He asked if you’d be back for the summit.”“Did you lie?”“I told him the truth.”Asher took a long sip. “Then let him brace for it.”Another pause. Another breath too loud in the space between them.“You could’ve seen him,” Julian said. “You had a hundred chances today.”“I didn’t want to.”“Bullshit.”Asher’s jaw ticked. But he said nothing.Julian sat down across from him. His voice dropped, low, firm. “I’ve seen you with bullets in your shoulder and blood in your eyes and you still didn’t flinch. But one name, one look, and suddenly you’re watching doorways like they’re traps.”Asher met his gaze. “I’m doing my job.”“No, you’re doing a performance. And poorly.”A muscle twitched in Asher’s cheek.Julian didn’t back down. “You can lie to me, Wolfe. But don’t lie to yourself.”T

Luca was looking.He didn’t even pretend otherwise.In the morning, he pulled up Wolfguard’s contracted documents, rereading every name. Every alias. Every firm detail.There it was again:K. Wolfe.Lead security operative. American accredited. Background sealed.It could be coincidence.Could be nothing.But it wasn’t.He couldn’t shake it. The man he saw wasn’t just some hired gun with a strong jaw and a stiff posture. It was him.It had to be.Asher was the only person who had ever looked at him like that.Like Luca’s very presence was both a bruise and a betrayal.Like a wound remembering the knife that made it.He had to know.He asked discreetly. Pushed inquiries past Serena’s staff, past Paolo’s security director. Masked it under protocol.“How was the lead operative selected?”“Why isn’t he visible in today’s walkthroughs?”“Why does Wolfguard operate under closed aliases?”No one gave him what he needed.Julian, when he crossed paths with him again, was polite. Unreadable. Im