All Chapters of Fifty Shades Of Lovia : Chapter 71 - Chapter 78

The first thing I felt was his breath, warm and deliberate, ghosting across the nape of my neck. Not the lazy exhale of sleep, but the controlled rhythm of a man already awake, already planning.Shane’s arm was a steel band around my waist, palm splayed flat over my stomach, fingers pressing just enough to remind me whose bed I was in, whose body I’d surrendered to and whose marks still throored beneath the sheets.I didn’t open my eyes, I didn't even need to. Because he knew I was awake.“Morning, love,” he rasped, voice gravel and smoke, curling down my spine like a fingertip. His lips brushed the slope of my shoulder in a slow, reverent way, tasting the faint salt of last night’s sweat.I exhaled, soft. “You’re staring.”“Always.” Another kiss, lower this time, teeth grazing the tender spot where neck met shoulder. “Especially when you look like this early in the morning, ruined, flushed and mine.”Heat flared low in my belly. I shifted, just enough to feel the hard length of h

LOVIA’S POV:The night tasted like rust and gasoline.We moved through the industrial district like ghosts, two shadows stitched together by moonlight and bad intentions. Shane drove the matte-black SUV with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on my thigh, thumb stroking the seam of my tactical pants like he needed the reminder that I was still breathing and still his.I wore black from throat to boots: fitted cargo pants, a cropped tactical vest that left my midriff bare because I liked the way the cold bit my skin and kept me sharp, and a holster strapped low on each thigh. My hair was braided tight against my skull, nothing for anyone to grab. Shane looked like death’s favorite son: black hoodie pulled up, gloves, the lower half of his face wrapped in a matte balaclava that only left his eyes visible, cold, arctic and lethal.We killed the headlights two blocks out and coasted the rest of the way on momentum and silence. The warehouse squatted ahead of us, ugly concrete b

LOVIA’S POV :The drive back from the warehouse was a blur of neon lights and throbbing veins. Shane’s hand never left my thigh, fingers digging in like he owned every inch of skin…and he did. The SUV hummed beneath us, engine purring like a beast barely leashed, but the real storm brewed inside. Adrenaline crashed through me, hot and electric, mixing with the metallic tang of blood on my gloves and the faint smoke clinging to our clothes. We’d hit them hard, left bodies cooling and flames roaring. Alejandro’s text: “You’re dead. Both of you.“ still lit up Shane’s phone on the dash, a promise we’d turn back on him tenfold.But right now? War could wait. Victory tasted like hunger.Shane pulled into the underground garage of our loft, tires squealing softly on concrete. He killed the engine, and for a beat, we sat in silence, breaths syncing, the air thick with unspoken need. His eyes met mine in the dim glow of the dashboard—dark, feral, promising everything.“Inside,” he growled

LOVIA’S POV:The VIP lounge at Eclipse felt like a velvet-lined trap: low amber lighting, leather booths that swallowed sound, the faint pulse of jazz curling around cigar smoke and expensive perfume. I sat in the corner booth with my back to the wall, legs crossed, martini glass cradled loosely in one manicured hand. Evelyn Pierce—blonde wig flawless, pearls glowing against my throat, black dress cut just low enough to distract without screaming desperation. The perfect mask.They arrived separately, like cautious animals testing the water.Nadia first. Tall, raven-haired, cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. The red dress clung to her like a warning. She slid in across from me, diamond choker flashing as she leaned forward. “Ms. Pierce. Thank you for coming.”“Evelyn, please,” I said, voice smooth, cultured. “And thank you for the invitation. I’m always interested when powerful people want to rewrite the rules.”Marcus Hale next—mid-sixties, silver hair slicked back, bespoke sui