บททั้งหมดของ His Trophy His War: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

The Bet and the Melody The backroom of the poker den reeked of cigar smoke and desperation, the air thick with the clink of chips and the low growl of men betting their lives away. Livia stood in the shadows, her black coat blending with the dim corners, her green eyes locked on Dante across the table. His slicked-back hair was mussed, his hazel eyes bloodshot, his hands trembling as he pushed his father’s watch—a tarnished silver heirloom—into the pot. Sofia stood behind him, her gold earrings glinting, her sultry smile urging him on. “Raise it, Dante,” she purred, her hand on his shoulder like a leash. “Show them you’re still a man.” Livia’s jaw clenched, her fingers tightening around the safehouse key in her pocket, Alessandro’s trust a steady anchor after Giulia’s betrayal last night.She’d come here on a tip from Sergio, her chain-smoking informant, who’d whispered about Dante’s latest gamble—a rigged bet set up by Sofia to trap him deeper with Russo. Livia wasn’t here to save

The Safehouse and the SourceLivia stepped from the black SUV, her suitcase light in her hand—a single bag, packed with essentials, a quiet declaration of freedom reclaimed. Her green eyes scanned the industrial district’s deserted streets, the concrete buildings looming like silent sentinels. Clara’s article, Giulia’s betrayal, Dante’s desperate texts—they swirled in her mind, but the mole’s warning from the jazz club—The mole sees everything—kept her on edge.Alessandro stood by the SUV, his black coat flecked with morning mist, tracking her with that quiet intensity that saw through her defenses. The bandage on his arm, bloodied from the ambush, peeked from his sleeve, a stark reminder of the danger he’d shielded her from.“Be careful,” he said, his voice low, introverted but heavy with protective care, his faint scar catching the dawn’s light. His hand brushed the handle of her suitcase, a fleeting touch that sent a spark of heat through her veins, his Possessive Protector edge so

Flames and Fraying BondsAlessandro’s trust still burned in her chest from their near-kiss last night. His vow to handle the warehouse, to catch Luca and Sofia with her intel, had left her here, safe but restless, her mind racing with the mole’s betrayal. Matteo’s shadow loomed larger now, Sergio’s warning about his vengeful sabotage—a warehouse fire—echoing in her head. Her cunning, not combat, was her weapon, and she’d tipped Alessandro about the attack, her strategic mind keeping her out of the fight, just as he’d insisted.Her phone buzzed, unknown number: Matteo’s moving. Warehouse burns tonight. Her pulse spiked, the mole’s reach—Luca, tied to Sofia—stinging like a fresh wound. She hadn’t told Alessandro about this text yet, guarding her cards until she could confirm Matteo’s plan. Clara’s article, Giulia’s betrayal, Dante’s desperate texts—Sofia’s closing in—piled pressure on her, but Livia was no longer Dante’s gambled bride. She was a queen, and her next move was to outsmart

Captive and CunningClara’s last call, cut off with a muffled cry, screamed abduction. Livia’s guilt surged with fierceness in her eyes. Her burner phone rang, Sergio’s number flashing.“Livia,” he rasped, his chain-smoking cough sharp, “Russo’s men took Clara. An hour ago, newsroom. Black sedan—you saw it tailing her.” His voice wavered, nerves raw. “East side factory, Sofia’s plan, Russo’s orders. Luca’s burner—Moretti has it—lists the address.”Livia’s breath hitched, guilt crashing like a tide—Clara’s kidnapping was her fault; her sister’s exposé was tied to her defiance. “Give me details, Sergio,” she said, pacing the loft, voice quaking. “What’s Sofia’s role?”“Sofia’s orchestrating,” he coughed. “Using Clara to lure Moretti. Factory’s rigged—guards everywhere. Luca’s phone has Sofia’s texts and coordinates.” His tone dropped. “Dante’s losing grip—Matteo’s deal with him is fracturing. You’re next, Livia.”Her nerves thrummed. “I’m not running,” she said, tone firm, eyes blazing.

Echoes of the WarehouseSergio’s POVSergio crouched in the shadowed corner of a dingy bar that stunk of stale beer and cigarette smoke clinging to his coat. His hands shook as he nursed a whiskey, ears straining to catch the low voices of Russo’s men at a nearby table. Their words—muttered plans about a warehouse hit in the district tonight—confirmed the note he’d sent Livia hours ago.Clara’s rescue had rattled Russo, and Sofia’s orders were clear: strike Alessandro’s supply chain to cripple his empire. Sergio’s pulse raced, his loyalty to Livia warring with his fear of Russo’s reach.He scribbled their talk—warehouse. midnight. explosives—on a napkin, muffling his cough as he slipped it to a courier waiting outside. Livia’s edge relied on him, and he’d risk everything to deliver.Livia’s POVLivia gripped a pen as she studied Sergio’s latest napkin note, delivered by Rosa moments ago. Clara’s rescue last night, guided by her factory layout, had saved her sister, but there was no ne