Lahat ng Kabanata ng MY KILLER'S HUSBAND: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

The silence that followed Jacob’s arrival was not empty, it was loaded. Like the breath before a scream. Like the second before a gunshot.Leo stood still, too still, as if movement might shatter what little control he had left.Alina had turned pale, and not from fear. From memory.“You’re dead,” Leo whispered, not as an insult, but as a plea.Jacob smirked, slow and venomous. “That’s what you needed to believe, brother. It’s the only way you could’ve lived with yourself.”Alina backed away, her fingers trembling. Her wedding ring felt like a shackle now, one Leo had locked onto her finger in a church filled with secrets.But Jacob’s eyes never left Leo.“Gabriel sends his regards,” Jacob said, flipping a black envelope onto the table. The Voss crest was stamped in blood-colored wax.Leo didn’t touch it.“You know what this is,” Jacob added.“I burned that deal.”“And he rewrote it in fireproof ink.”Alina dared to speak. “What deal?”Leo answered without looking at her. “The only de

The silence after war isn’t peace.It’s just the moment everyone sharpens their knives.Alina stood in front of the old mirror in Leo’s study, now hers, wearing the same emerald silk gown she wore the night she became a Voss. Not the real ceremony. The private one.The one where Leo carved a V into her thigh and kissed it like a crown.She traced the mark now.It still burned.It was her inheritance and her curse.…In the south wing, Leo and Jacob faced off.Again.“You’re not the heir,” Jacob spat. “You never were. Your father made sure of that.”Leo’s smirk was ice. “But he’s not here anymore, is he?”“You think Alina makes you king?” Jacob stepped forward. “She’s not your edge. She’s your end.”Gabriel’s voice rang out behind them, uninvited, as always. “Boys, boys… arguing over a woman while the kingdom burns?”Leo turned sharply. “She’s not just a woman.”Jacob added, “She’s the ghost we all tried to bury.”Gabriel grinned, cigarette glowing. “Then she’s perfect.”…Alina stood

The city was bleeding rain, drowning in the kind of storm that didn’t ask for permission; it just came, wild and unapologetic. And somewhere in the center of it all, standing at the edge of a hotel rooftop, Leo Valez lit a cigarette with shaking fingers.He hadn’t smoked in years.Not since her.Not since Alina.But tonight, everything came crashing back, her scent, the weight of her voice, the echo of footsteps that never belonged to a ghost but to the woman he’d buried... and married.He inhaled deeply, smoke curling into his lungs like punishment. Below him, headlights swerved through the streets, chaos and routine dancing like lovers who didn’t know how to quit each other.“You still smoke those shitty foreign brands?”The voice behind him didn’t flinch. Didn’t stutter.Leo didn’t turn. He knew it. Felt it.“Only when I want to remember how it felt to burn,” he muttered.Alina stepped beside him, her black coat soaked through, clinging to her like she was born from the storm. But

The darkness wasn’t silent.It breathed.The kind of breath that echoes off concrete and memory. That slithers down your spine like a serpent waking in its nest.Leo reached for Alina, but her hand was already gone.“Alina?” he called.Silence.No reply.Just the cold mechanical sound of the intercom cracking back to life.“One of you is a Valez. The other... an imposter.”The voice wasn’t just familiar, it was ancestral. Smooth, regal and absolutely lethal.Leo’s mind raced.If that was Emilio Valez, truly him, then everything he thought he knew was a lie. His rise to power. The succession and the blood oath.Even Jacob’s death… could’ve been staged.“Alina!” he barked again, this time louder.Still nothing.Then, a thin beam of light blinked on, illuminating the center of the room. There, resting on a pedestal, was a syringe. Next to it, two antique goblets. One red and one black.Another voice echoed through the chamber. This one was feminine and younger.“Drink from the right cup,

The venom raced through Leo’s veins like liquid wildfire.He staggered back from the mirror, fists clenched, pupils dilated. His reflection fractured, not just glass, but identity. One second, he saw himself and the next second, he saw his father’s dead eyes.Then nothing but red.A scream… no, a roar… tore from his throat.The door burst open. Five men, faces wrapped in gauze and black cloth, moved like shadows, silent, synchronized assassins.The first lunged. Leo didn’t think, he moved. He ducked low and slammed his fist into the attacker’s knee. A crack. A howl. He ripped the man’s knife from his belt and drove it into his throat.He didn’t even blink.The second came from behind. Leo twisted, inhumanly fast, and caught the man mid-air, slamming him against the concrete wall with a bone-splitting crunch. Blood painted the light switch.The venom. It wasn’t killing him. It was unlocking something.The third and fourth attackers hesitated. One drew a gun.Bad move.Leo grabbed a ste