Semua Bab Falling Hard: Bab 11 - Bab 16

Morning drifted softly into the penthouse, the storm from the night before replaced with gentle sunlight streaming through sheer curtains. Isla blinked awake, her body still tangled in crisp sheets, her skin warm from the heat of the man lying beside her.For once, there was no rush, no urgent phone calls or cold glares. There was only Ezekiel… and the soft, rare smile tugging at his lips as he gazed at her.“Good morning, beautiful,” he said quietly, his voice husky from sleep.Isla’s heart fluttered. This was new—this tenderness. This man who had been all ice and steel was now holding her like she was fragile, precious.She smiled, pressing closer, her fingers trailing along his bare chest. “Good morning… Mr. I’ll-cancel-the-world-for-you.”He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “That’s exactly who I am today… and maybe tomorrow too.”Her cheeks flushed, but she playfully raised a brow. “What about your ruthless empire?”Ezekiel tilted her chin, his thumb brushing her lower lip. “The

The following morning, the warm glow of the previous night vanished beneath the hard, sharp edge of reality. The mansion was alive with the sound of ringing phones, hurried footsteps, and clipped conversations. Isla could feel the shift the moment she stepped into the hallway. Business was back in full force, and it was ruthless.In the conference room, Ezekiel Veylin stood tall, powerful, dressed in a navy suit that was cut to perfection. His expression was carved in stone as his legal advisor whispered updates in his ear. His eyes sharpened the moment Isla entered, softening just slightly, but business didn’t pause for anyone.Mr. Ricafort, one of the oldest and most dangerous corporate players, sat across the table. Gray-haired, snake-eyed, and infamous for buying companies just to crush them, Mr. Ricafort’s arrival wasn’t a coincidence—it was a warning.“I see the young Veylin brought his lovely wife,” Ricafort sneered, his tone dripping with condescension. “Does she sit in board

While Isla slept peacefully in their penthouse, cradling the flash drive of secrets she thought would change the course of their war, Ezekiel Veylin sat in his private office, the door locked, the city stretching out beneath him like his kingdom. His expression was calm, almost cold, as he spoke into his encrypted phone. “Status update,” Ezekiel ordered, swirling a glass of scotch in his hand. Kurt’s voice came through the line, sharp and precise. “Matthew’s just returned from Luxembourg. The dummy corporations Ricafort’s been using for money laundering are traced back to an offshore chain. We’ve intercepted two key financial pipelines.” Ezekiel’s lips curled into a dark smile. “Good. Leak enough to the financial regulators to freeze the accounts but don’t reveal our hand. I want Ricafort starving while he thinks he’s still in control.” “Understood,” Kurt replied without hesitation. Matthew’s voice joined from the background. “We’ve also cornered two of his main lobbyists. They