All Chapters of wounded Heart : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Alex's neck still stung where the letter opener had broken the skin. The safe house—a modernist villa fifteen minutes from Monaco—hummed with tense activity as Interpol agents secured the perimeter. He watched from the balcony as they patrolled the grounds, their shadows stretching long in the pre-dawn light."You should let me clean that properly," Sonia said, appearing beside him with the first aid kit she'd found in the bathroom.He didn't resist when she dabbed antiseptic on the cut. Her hands were steady now, unlike the trembling fingers that had tended to him in the panic room hours earlier."That was reckless," she murmured, her voice carrying both admiration and reproach simultaneously. "Holding a blade to your own throat.""It worked, didn't it?" Alex's gaze remained fixed on the Mediterranean, where naval patrol boats now circled to intercept any approaching vessels. "Geneva didn't think I'd actually do it."Sonia finished applying a small bandage. "No one did. Including me.

The helicopter's searchlight sliced through the darkness, pinning their boat in its harsh glare. Alex's mind raced as he stared at the message on his phone, the words burning into his consciousness: Trust no one. Especially Sonia.He glanced at her, studying the woman who had become his anchor in the storm of betrayal. Her eyes reflected the searchlight's glare, wide with tension yet steady. Could those eyes belong to yet another person playing him?"What is it?" Sonia asked, noticing his expression.Alex slipped the phone into his pocket. "Nothing important," he lied, surprising himself with how easily the deception came. Perhaps he was more his father's son than he cared to admit."They'll be dropping tactical teams any second," James shouted from the rear of the boat. "We need to move!"Alex made a split-second decision, shoving the throttle forward. The boat lurched ahead, cutting through the dark Mediterranean waters at a dangerous speed."Alex!" Sonia grabbed the side rail as th

Water dripped from ancient stone as Alex led them deeper into the storm tunnels beneath Monaco. The passage narrowed, forcing them to move single file – James in the lead with his gun drawn, Sonia in the middle, and Alex taking the rear, his mind racing.Martinez, not Martelli. The discrepancy nagged at him. If the vault files contained such a basic error about Sonia's family name, what else might be incorrect?"The tunnel branches ahead," James called back, his voice echoing slightly. "Which way?"Alex consulted his mental map of the underground network. "Left. It'll take us toward the marina."As they navigated the damp corridor, Alex watched Sonia's silhouette. Her shoulders were tense, her movements measured – the posture of someone whose world had just collapsed. If she was acting, it was masterful."Did you recognize anything in those files?" he asked quietly. "Any fragment that felt familiar?"She glanced back at him, her face half-shadowed. "No. And yes. The photo of the man t

The seaplane floated gently on the turquoise waters as Alex Rodriguez stepped onto the narrow wooden dock, his natural authority evident even in crisis. Despite his exquisite designer suit and the chaos of recent days, he carried himself with the same commanding presence that had driven Rodriguez Global to record profits just weeks ago."Six minutes until the first aircraft lands," James announced, his casual tone belied by the bitterness in his eyes. "Though I suppose I'm still just head of security, even now. Old habits die hard, don't they, brother?" Alex ignored the jab, focusing instead on Sonia as he helped her onto the dock. Even exhausted, she moved with the same grace that had first caught his attention across that crowded Monaco boardroom. "Save the family drama, James. We have more pressing concerns.""Of course," James replied with a blade-like smile. "The great Alex Rodriguez has spoken. Just like in the boardroom, right? Father's chosen heir making all the decisions.""

The Rodriguez Global headquarters in Geneva gleamed in the morning light, its reflective glass façade a monument to wealth and power. In the executive elevator, Alex adjusted his custom Brioni suit, the weight of his father's legacy pressing down on him heavier than the restored Patek Philippe on his wrist—a gift from Carlos on his birthday."The board is already assembled," James informed him. "Geneva's faction has been making calls all night. Three directors are wavering."Alex nodded, his expression betraying nothing of the turmoil beneath. Forty-eight hours since regaining consciousness, twenty-four since last seeing Sonia. Her absence felt like a physical wound."And our allies?" he asked."Secured, for now. But they'll need reassurance." James handed him a tablet. "The markets are nervous. Rodriguez shares dropped eight percent in overnight trading."The elevator opened directly into the executive suite, revealing Elena, his temporary assistant. Her efficiency was admirable but