All Chapters of VELVET GUN: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

“Sometimes the greatest gifts are built in silence, yet they speak louder than words ever could.” Ellie sat in the vast library of Merchetti Mansion, a book open on her lap though she barely read the words. The quiet of the room, the scent of old leather and polished wood, offered a rare moment of peace she seldom allowedL herself. Today, she’d decided, would be an off day—a day away from work, away from the constant pull of the food bank, away from the endless obligations of being someone. everyone relied upon. Her father was sitting across from her, relaxed in a way that surprised her. There was a lightness in his eyes she hadn’t seen for years, a softness in the set of his shoulders, as if a weight had been lifted. He laughed at something she said lightly, and for the first time in a long while, Ellie felt a pang of curiosity mixed with hope. Could it be… the new woman in his life? she wondered silently. Could she be the reason he seemed younger, happier, less burdened? She hadn’

“Some truths linger in whispers, waiting for the right ears to awaken them.” The hospital was quiet now, the morning frenzy long gone. Ellie had already retreated to her studies, her mind consumed with patient files, new cases, and surgical preparations. The building she had envisioned and nurtured into existence thrummed with life—doctors, nurses, and specialists bustling through corridors, tending to those who could pay and those who could not. In just three months, it had become a beacon of hope, a living testament to her ambition and compassion.Yet amid this thriving chaos, Chiara found herself wandering the quieter parts of the estate, following the one person who had always intrigued her—her father. He moved with a certain energy now, lighter, freer, almost as if a weight had been lifted. Chiara had begun to notice patterns: the subtle disappearances into rooms, the hushed voices, thequick smiles when he thought no one was listening. Today, curiosity drove her further. She h

“Some truths cannot be forced—they arrive when hearts are ready to see them.” Ellie sat rigidly in Amy’s study, the soft hum of the evening barely reaching her ears. Her eyes flicked nervously between Chiara and Amy, who sat across from her, the tension almost tangible. Chiara’s hands were clasped tightly in her lap, as though she could contain the storm that had been brewing inside her for weeks. And then the door opened. Lena’s head appeared first, cautious, assessing the room, her sharp eyes meeting Chiara’s. And in that instant, Ellie felt a strange electricity in the air. She watched Lena, then shifted her gaze to Chiara. Back and forth they went, Ellie trying to make sense of the silent exchange that seemed to speak volumes, though the words were nowhere to be heard. Something clicked in Ellie’s mind, though she couldn’t articulate it yet. There was recognition in Lena’s posture, a gravity, a tension that spoke of secrets kept far too long. Her eyes widened as she finally unde

“Some truths take time to settle, like dust after a storm. Only when it’s still can we see clearly.” The morning after the wedding brought a quiet that felt almost foreign to Ellie. The Maserati mansion, usually humming with constant activity, felt subdued. The chaos of last night—the flashing cameras, the cheering guests, the sudden laughter of Gilead—had all faded into echoes, leaving a fragile calm in its place. Ellie sat in the library, legs tucked beneath her, a cup of steaming tea warming her hands. Chiara had been unusually quiet this morning, trailing behind her sister with that peculiar mixture of curiosity and wariness. Ellie had watched her, noting the way she hesitated at the doorway, then finally settled beside her. “So,” Chiara began, her voice soft, almost hesitant, “everything… really went the way it was supposed to?”Ellie sipped her tea slowly, considering her words. “I think so. Surprisingly, yes. I thought Gilead would make some kind of scene—again—but she didn’t

“Even the safest walls cannot shield the heart from the storms approaching; only courage and love can weather the tempest.” The mansion was quiet that morning, yet the air carried a faint tension, subtle but insistent. Ellie moved slowly through the halls, hands cradling her swelling belly, every step a careful negotiation with the child inside. At six months, the child had grown strong, kicking with insis- tence, testing boundaries, asserting presence. Ellie smiled softly, leaning against the polished banister. Amy appeared at the top of the stairs, barefoot, hair loose, eyes bright but worried. “Ellie… you’ve been quiet this morning. Too quiet. What’s on your mind?”Ellie looked down at her, soft but firm. “Nothing that isn’t always on my mind. The child… the household… the world outside. People asking questions. Rumors spreading faster than I anticipated. And the thought of… exposure.” Amy descended, placing a hand lightly on Ellie’s arm. “We’ll handle it. Always. Just… stay clo