Semua Bab Masked By Millions : Bab 31 - Bab 40

Rain slicked the concrete as Alec’s blacked-out SUV pulled up to Pier 9. The ocean slapped against the dock, angry and cold. In the distance, the red shipping container loomed like a bloody secret waiting to be spilled.Zara Milli Lane adjusted the knife inside her boot. Her eyes, dark with vengeance, scanned every shadow. Alec hadn’t wanted her here. But she’d insisted.“This isn’t about power or empire anymore,” she’d said. “It’s about my father. My life. And I’m not watching from a goddamn window.”Now, dressed in tight black jeans, combat boots, and a cropped leather jacket, she was a storm bottled in skin. Alec kept a firm hand on her back as they stepped into the shadows, flanked by Kane and two ex-military guards.“She’s close,” Kane murmured. “Juliette’s car was seen five blocks from here an hour ago.”Zara’s stomach twisted. “And my father?”“No sign of movement. But if she’s keeping him in that container, we’ve got a fifteen-minute window before backup arrives.”“Then we mak

Alec’s phone felt like it was burning a hole in his suit pocket. Seven missed calls from Kane. Fifteen from his private line. No messages beyond the initial threat—“The double is buried tonight unless you surrender her.” Now, dark clouds scudded across the sky above the runway where Zara’s latest survivors’ showcase had just wrapped.Zara stood amidst the chaos of models and crew, tears catching in the glitter of spotlight. She’d just sent her army of women down that runway—each one a warrior flaunting scars and strength. And she’d meant that to be her ultimate answer to Juliette’s games. To Vivienne’s sabotage. To Damien’s blackmail. A declaration that no threat could break her.But then the message had come.Alec wasn’t dead. But someone who looked like him—someone surgically molded to every scar, every hair, every mole—had been captured, tortured, and left to bleed in his name. And the real Alec was frantic, scrabbling through contacts, hacks, safehouses, trying to find the imposto

Zara Milli Lane never thought she’d walk into a gala as the woman who almost died twice in one week and came out with a fashion empire on fire.But here she was—strutting in a custom black velvet gown, slit to the thigh, bare back, neck dripping with diamonds—and a name cleared of every stain Juliette had tried to paint her with.Alec trailed a few steps behind, watching her like a man who knew he’d already lost the battle of pretending not to worship her.“Smile, billionaire,” she whispered out the corner of her mouth. “You look like you’re one threat away from detonating this ballroom.”Alec leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “Only if someone touches what’s mine.”Her skin flamed. “You’re territorial tonight.”“I’m always territorial.”It wasn’t a party. It was a statement: Zara Lane was back. And Juliette was locked in a padded room somewhere under federal protection. But snakes didn’t stay buried for long—and Alec knew better than to believe it was over.Especially when her fat

⸻They said no one could surprise the internet anymore.Alec Blackwell just proved them all wrong.He did it with one photo.Zara posted it first.A casual shot: Alec in her workshop, sleeves rolled up, arms wrapped around her waist from behind while she adjusted fabric on a mannequin. The caption read:“Built this with a man who didn’t need to prove his wealth. Just his love.”Then came the tag:@AlecBlackwellOfficial. Verified.The internet exploded.⸻By noon, #AlecBlackwell trended globally.By nightfall, Zara’s name joined it.News anchors stuttered through reports. “Billionaire heir Alec Blackwell has been living in disguise for nearly a year under a false identity, reportedly working low-wage jobs while secretly maintaining control of Blackwell Industries and two global law firms…”Zara’s boutique got twenty million views in twenty-four hours.Alec’s face was plastered across every magazine cover from Forbes to Vogue Noir.And the wolves began to circle.⸻Zara expected chaos.

Zara Milli Lane woke to a silence she didn’t recognize.Not fear. Not chaos.Just peace.Sort of.She sat up slowly in the bed she now shared with Alec Blackwell—real name, real life, no secrets left between them. The sheets were tangled, the sun bleeding in through massive floor-to-ceiling windows.He stood at the edge of the balcony, shirtless, a mug in one hand, phone in the other. Talking fast. Direct. Billionaire mode.She took in the sharp lines of his back, the tension in his stance.So much had changed in twenty-four hours.Juliette was gone—arrested, exposed, betrayed by her own empire.Zara’s name cleared. Her father recovering. The files secure.But nothing was ever really over.Zara slid out of bed, crossing the marble floor barefoot.He turned as she approached, voice dropping.“She’s awake. I’ll call you back.”He set the phone down. “Sleep okay?”“No dreams,” she said. “Just ideas.”He arched a brow.“Like how I’m going to relaunch the brand without Juliette’s poison. A