บททั้งหมดของ Shadows of the Vow: บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

Antonioni's POV I was standing by the window, thinking about the seemingly impossible contract we had expected to secure with the Turkish government by now. I mean Kemal Daraç’s Daraç group of logistics companies and me. In fact, this time around, with the help of Emir Yücel, I have baited the best baits Kemal has ever seen, and he's made me his co-founder. This makes it easier for me to penetrate the Turkish customs systems.Meanwhile, these Turkish governments are being impossible. I was deep in thought when Diego’s voice buzzed through my comms."King, one of the new recruits asked to see you. Says it's urgent. The girl, Rachael."Rachael. One of the twenty-five I’d been shaping for weeks. Quick hands. Quicker eyes. Hungry to rise. I could always sense hunger in them. It smelled like sweat and old fear.I flicked ashes into the tray. “Send her in.”The moment the door opened, I knew something was off.She stepped in, head low but shoulders too tight, her movements... calculated. S

Antonioni's POV Morning light crawled through the tall windows of the dining hall.The time was 6:48 am.I sat alone at the head of the long oak table in the room, a fresh pot of dark roast before me, a plate of eggs I hadn’t touched.She entered… Annabelle.Fresh, composed. As if last night had never happened. Hmm, she now wakes up early, effortlessly. You all know she struggled to wake up early when she first arrived. Thanks to training!She took her seat across from me. No words yet. I liked that. No small talk when there was real business to address.I poured myself another cup, letting the silence stretch just long enough. Then I looked her in the eye.“What exactly were you doing,” I asked, voice low, measured, “in the forbidden archive room?”Her fork paused mid-air. A flicker in her gaze, barely a second, but I caught it.She placed the fork down carefully. “I was searching for one copy of the guest ledgers,” She said smoothly. “A copy of the suppliers’ ledger I had misplaced.

Nobody's POV The call was placed at dawn. Not from the chamber with the jasmine tea, not from the old dojo, but from a smaller room Jong Ping Jin kept sealed…four walls, no windows, bare except for a single altar and an unlit candle. The kind of room men used when they knew prayer would not answer them.The phone rang once.Twice.Then connected.“Milo Martinez,” a voice answered, cool, detached. Not rushed. Not curious. Like the voice of a man who's used to choosing when things mattered.“Mi Lo Jin, adeul” Jong Ping Jin said quietly.Silence.Then a slow breath on the other end. “I told you not to use that last name, and never to call me your son,” Milo replied. “Our biological relationship died with the woman you drove to her early grave.”The old man closed his eyes. The candle remained unlit. “I don’t have much time,” Jong Ping Jin said.“That’s not my problem.”“I need you to listen.”“I’ve listened my whole life,” Milo said. “To threats. To rules. To men like you pretending b

Annabelle's POVHe told me he was leaving. Two days. One night. Africa.I didn’t say anything at first. I just looked at him. Took him in. Tried to see if he was hiding anything. If he had doubts. Fear. Danger.“Africa?” I finally whispered.“Yes,” he said.“For work?” I asked.“For people,” he said.I nodded slowly. Tried to keep my face neutral. I tried to make it look easy. But my chest tightened anyway.“Two days. One night,” I said again, almost to myself. Almost like saying it out loud would make it real.“I’ll be back before you feel it,” he said.I wanted to believe him. I had to.I stepped closer. Just enough to feel him there, but not enough to stop him. Just enough to hold some part of him with me.“You always say it like it’s nothing,” I said softly. “But I know you.”I watched his eyes. His face. His hands. Every gesture. I saw him, steady, controlled. But I knew him too well. I knew the weight he carried even when he smiled.“I’ll come back,” he said.I studied him. Sear

Annabelle’s POVThe next morning, the Dome was humming softly with the aftermath of yesterday’s triumph. The counters had been cleared, the dishes washed, the aromas lingering in a memory rather than a present scent. I moved quietly through the halls, checking that everyone was settled, that Patty Mama had taken her morning doses, that Mama Espe was comfortable with the routine.And then I heard it…the subtle shift in the air that meant Antonioni was back. My chest tightened in a way that neither pride nor excitement could fully explain. I had managed the Dome without him, and yet seeing him return… it was as though the very walls had been waiting.I went to the main entrance just as the doors opened, and there he was. Antonioni. Steady, controlled, unshaken by the African heat or the flights or whatever danger he had faced there. And yet… I could see it, in the line of his jaw, the faint shadow beneath his eyes, that he carried more than the calm he showed.I took his briefcase from h