All Chapters of Married to My Father's Killer: Chapter 81 - Chapter 87

Ariella had never realized how loud stillness could be until this moment.The warehouse was quiet. Not the dangerous type of quiet she had grown used to over the past weeks, but a different kind. A quiet that felt like everyone was finally standing on the edge of something they could not walk back from.Lucien moved to her side without needing to be told. His presence didn’t overshadow the moment. He didn’t try to take control. He simply stood there, grounding her, watching the room with that sharp, calculating look he had when he was trying to hold a hundred pieces together.Adrian stood across from them. For the first time, his confidence had cracks in it. The kind that showed a man who had carried a truth too long and finally let it slip.And now there was Rafael.He leaned against a metal table, arms crossed, gaze flicking between all of them like he was studying a battlefield instead of people. Not hostile. Not friendly. Just… observant. Almost too calm for someone tied to the me

The sun rose like it had been waiting for them.Soft gold spilled across the horizon, washing over the compound’s high walls, touching the cracked stones, catching on the metal railings that had witnessed too many secrets. Ariella stepped out first, the morning air brushing her skin like a reminder that she was still here, still standing, still choosing to face whatever waited ahead.No darkness behind her.No shadows she needed to outrun anymore.Just the truth she had been dragged toward for months, now opening before her like a path she finally had the courage to walk.Lucien watched her quietly as he closed the door behind them. There was no need for words. Not today. Not in this moment. He adjusted the strap of the small tactical bag across his chest, but his eyes never left Ariella.She didn’t look back at the house, or the room where she had spent the last night lying awake. She didn’t need to. Everything that needed to haunt her had already happened. There was no fresh nightma

Ariella had seen many versions of Lucien Draven: the controlled one, the furious one, the cold strategist, the man who held himself together even when the world was falling apart.But she had never seen this one.This Lucien was quiet. Too quiet.And silence from a man like him was far more dangerous than shouting ever could be.They were back in the safehouse Adrian had secured—a dim, bare room with concrete walls and only the soft hum of electricity in the background. Outside, the city was settling into night, unaware of the war gathering in its shadows.Ariella watched Lucien pace once from one end of the room to the other, the tension radiating off him like heat. Adrian stood near the door, arms folded, eyes fixed on the floor as if trying to piece together the right words. Rafael lingered near the window, observing the street below, jaw clenched.Everything they thought they knew had been flipped.Sebastian’s betrayal.Elise’s double game.Adrian’s hidden involvement.And now Raf

Rafael had warned them that the closer they got to the truth, the more dangerous the shadows would become—but no one expected the storm to shift this fast.The house felt too quiet.Ariella stood near the tall windows, arms folded tightly across her chest, staring out at the driveway where the last vehicle had disappeared minutes ago. The sky was settling into that strange, bruised shade before evening fully took over. Lucien wasn’t far from her—watching her more than the horizon, pacing only when he couldn’t hold still.Rafael leaned against the wall, expression unreadable. There was something controlled about him tonight—like every breath was intentional, measured, waiting for the final thread to snap.It had been two hours since Adrian’s revelation.Two hours since Sebastian’s true betrayal had fully taken form.Two hours since Ariella’s entire world seemed to tilt permanently out of place.She finally turned. “When Sebastian contacted you… did he mention me? Or Lucien?” Her voice