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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Accidentally Kidnapped the Warlord and Became His Wife: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

150 Kabanata

41. The Last Shot

The scream cracked through the air behind the door.Lorraine.My body moved on instinct. Rounded the corner fast, Glock raised, steps silent.Two intruders. Backs to me. Focused on the panic room panel.The first didn’t even turn. I fired two rounds to the base of the skull. He dropped face-first, dead before he hit the floor.Unfortunately, the second whipped around. Quicker reflexes. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and bolted left, dropping behind the overturned dresser for cover.Smart.He poked his head up, rifle tight against his shoulder. Visor glinting under the guest room's light. “You’re supposed to be dead,” he said, tone rattled. “You jumped off a goddamn cliff—”He paused.I didn’t reply.His stare lingered a second too long on the soaked fabric clinging to my frame, the bloodless graze on my bicep, the gashes down my arms and face. Skin pale blue from the sea. Lips

42. You Don't Get to Die Yet

Everything went crazy and I didn't know what to do. But, I ran. Slipped on blood once, caught myself on the doorframe and kept running.Blankets. Anything. I didn’t think, didn’t breathe, just grabbed what I could. An old wool coat from the hall closet. A few towels. The blanket from the sofa. My own sweater from the chair. I dropped half of it in my haste and had to scoop it up again with trembling hands.He was dying.Misha was dying and I couldn’t even keep my grip on a towel.I stumbled back into the bedroom, arms overflowing, heart threatening to crack my ribs open from the inside.He was still on the bed, barely upright, barely conscious. His face looked wrong. Pale, waxy. Lips cracked and blue-tinged. Eyes half-lidded and glassy. Blood soaked the sheets. Soaked him.I couldn’t even tell how much was left in him. So, I dumped the blankets and tore into them, wrapping him with frantic, clumsy hands. My voice shook, cracked,

43. Late-Night House Call

“What do you mean by that?!” I nearly screamed, eyes wide, frantic, and barely keeping Misha steady in my lap. “He’s wounded and freezing to death. I won't let him die. He needs a damn doctor!”James shook his head, jaw clenched, blood soaking through the rag pressed to his side. “No hospital. Not an option.”Now, I knew for sure he'd lost his mind. “Misha’s barely conscious. He could have internal bleeding. He’s—he’s ice-cold, shaking—this isn’t something I can fix with a first-aid kit!”“Because, duh! They’ll see the bullet hole and we’re both screwed,” James muttered, taking a sharp turn. “Hospital’s out. But I’ve got a private doctor. Used to be licensed until she got caught doing lines in an on-call room. Now she runs quiet, no-questions gigs. One hell of a surgeon, though.”“What—”“Long story. Point is she’s fast, discreet, and already on her way. Won’t call the cops. Or the Vatican.”I looked down at Misha’s face. His ski

44. Just His Usual Tuesday

“One more thing,” the doctor said, glancing at Misha’s pale, still form under the blankets.“What is it, doc?” James responded before I could. “His core temp’s dropped. He’s hypothermic.”James frowned. “The heater’s on.”“Won’t be enough if it keeps dipping,” the doctor said. “Fastest way to raise his temperature is body heat. Skin to skin.”She said it casually, like it was just another part of her job. Then her gaze slid pointedly to me.Before I could respond, James recoiled like she'd just told him to suck venom from a snake itself. “Hell no. Don’t look at me, I’m not gay.”The doctor rolled her eyes. “Didn’t ask you to be.”Skin to skin. That’s what she said. And suddenly, finally, I understood. That was what Misha meant. Right before he passed out.‘Strip,’ he’d said. I thought he was delirious. Dying. Making some dark jokes. But he was trying to save himself. Trying to tell me what wo

45. For A Price

I woke up feeling too hot.Sticky warmth clung to my skin, and for a moment, I couldn’t understand why. The sheets were heavy, the air thick, and my body was pressed against something radiating heat.My eyes fluttered open, heart skipping as I stared at a ceiling I didn’t recognize. This wasn’t my room. The space was too quiet, too clean. My mind scrambled to catch up, sluggish and disoriented.Then I felt the steady rise and fall beneath my hand. The solid warmth of another body beneath the blankets.Misha.Memory crashed back in all at once. The gunshot wounds, the blood, the doctor’s voice, skin to skin. Climbing into bed beside him, hoping to keep him alive. Eyes widened in panic, I slowly took everything in mind. My hand was splayed across Misha’s bare chest, rising and falling slowly beneath my touch. His heartbeat pulsed steady under my palm, and I realized I had curled into his side during the night, drawn by instinct an

46. Shower Priority

“What do you need? Name it.”Misha grinned, “A kiss might—”I didn’t let him finish.I leaned in and kissed him before the rest could leave his mouth, silencing the request with the press of my lips. His breath hitched, and I feared of hurting him somehow. But then he kissed me back, with more hunger than I expected from someone who’d nearly died a few hours ago.When I finally pulled back, flustered and breathless, I started to curl in beside him again. But Misha didn’t stop.His hand slid to the back of my neck, drawing me down into another kiss that was firmer, slower, claiming. Heat bloomed low in my belly, all thoughts scattering under the weight of it. My fingers clutched the edge of the blanket as he deepened the kiss, and then—Everything shifted.I gasped when the mattress dipped. Before I could blink, Misha had rolled, turning me onto my back with a gentleness that didn’t match the burning stare in hi

47. Collateral Damage

“Misha Ashford!”The front door slammed open with the force of a hurricane. I barely had time to turn before I saw my best friend Sadie storming in, fury blazing in her eyes and fire in every step.“Sadie—”Too late.Crack!Sadie’s boot connected with brutal precision right between Misha’s legs.Misha dropped like a stone. Folded over like a collapsing tent, a strangled, breathless groan broke from his throat as he hit the floor hard. One hand flew to his groin, the other clamped over his mouth like he was seconds from puking.Behind her, James stepped in through the doorway and froze mid-step. He crossed his legs, hands clutching at his own groin in sympathy. “What the hell!”I froze in horror, then scrambled to Misha’s side, heart lurching. “Misha?! Oh my God—Misha!”He was wheezing, curled in on himself, body trembling. His face had gone ghostly pale, lips pressed together so tightly I thought he mig

48. Matcha and Some Body Count

Misha leaned his head back against the cushion, lips pale and dry. “I’m sorry, what? Who said I want your forgiveness?”Sadie snapped at him, “It's common decency, you psycho.”“Guys, that's enough.”“Where the hell did you find this crazy bitch? She’s worse than him.” Misha jerked his thumb toward James, making me smile.James’s jaw dropped in offense. “Excuse you?! I bought breakfast!”“With my credit card,” Misha croaked from the couch.“Obviously,” James replied proudly, puffing up like he deserved a medal. “Be glad I got you food because I was in a good mood,” James said with exaggerated patience, “Until someone drop-kicked you in the nuts.”Sadie raised an unimpressed brow. “You mean when I was saving my best friend from what I thought was a manipulative, psycho kidnapper?”James pointed a finger at her. “You also made me drop two bags of perfectly packaged breakfast outside the front door.”Sadie

49. My Past, Not Her Future

I looked over at Misha.He didn’t respond to Sadie's question immediately. Just sprawled on the couch like some dying poet with his matcha latte pressed lightly against his lips. His expression was unreadable. It was eerie.“Misha,” I said gently, hoping maybe he’d answer me instead. “Sadie’s right. You owe us—no, you owe me an explanation. I need to know.”Misha exhaled slowly, but didn’t look at either of us. “There’s nothing to tell.”Sadie snorted. “Oh, please. You expect us to believe that seven fully armed men stormed your house with the intention of killing you for nothing?”“Maybe it was a robbery gone wrong,” he muttered.“Bullshit,” Sadie snapped. “They had rifles. Silencers. Tactical gears. That’s not a robbery, that's a hit.”James shifted in the armchair, finally setting down the burrito. “I mean, she’s not wrong. Someone wanted you dead, and I want to know why I had to personally haul seven corpses out of a

50. Proof Will Make It Real

“Excuse me?”Misha locked his starless dark eyes on Sadie, expressionless. “You heard me. If you’re only here to throw blame and pretend like you know everything, then leave.”Sadie’s jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. “You arrogant—”“Sadie,” I cut in quietly.She turned to me, disbelief all over her face. “You’re letting him talk to me like that?”“I’m not letting anyone do anything.” My voice trembled with exhaustion. “But I’m not asking you to protect me like I’m still seventeen and hiding in your dorm room after my father screamed at me.”Sadie reeled. “That’s not what this is about—”“But it is,” I said softly. “You’ve always been the one who stood up for me when no one else would. You always showed up. Even when you shouldn’t have to. I’m really glad I have a best friend like you, Sadie. But I think I’ve been selfish. I’m making you fight a war that isn’t yours.”Her expression cracked, something raw surfaci

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