Semua Bab Game over. : Bab 91 - Bab 100

Michelle’s POVI move toward the gates, my heels clicking against the marble floor, my fingers twitching as I glance at my phone for the hundredth time. The message to Marco, “I will open the gates as soon as I can,” seems almost desperate now, but he hasn’t replied. Not a word. No sign that he’s even coming. I tell myself he’s on his way, moving carefully, making his way to the estate to meet me. That has to be it. He wouldn’t ignore me if he didn’t trust me, would he?My confidence begins to crack as I approach the first set of guards, a small, polite smile plastered across my face, and I lean just close enough to brush my hand against one of their arms, whispering, “Could you let me through? I need to check on something outside.” I flirt subtly, letting my voice drop a notch, letting my eyes linger, hoping my charm will work. The first guard shakes his head politely, stepping back, and I can feel a bead of sweat starting to trickle down my temple.I try again, moving to another gua

Michelle’s POVThe basement is colder than I expect, not just in temperature but in the way the air feels heavy and dead, as if the walls themselves are listening, waiting, holding secrets that never leave once they are spoken down here. The door closes behind Miriam, who is thrown into the dungeon, with a final sound that makes my stomach drop, and for the first time since I walked into this house tonight, I feel something crack inside me, something sharp and frightening that I have been trying very hard not to feel. Fear.I tell myself Marco will come. I tell myself this is just a delay, just a moment where everything feels wrong before it snaps back into place, but the silence presses in on me, thick and suffocating, and the longer it stretches, the harder it becomes to hold on to that belief.Miriam stands a few steps away from me, her back against the stone wall, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if she is trying to keep herself from falling apart completely. Her face is

Madeline’s POVThe house feels different now. It feels more like a battleground than a house. I am furious that Michelle and Marco brought the fight to my house and my personal space. MY children are supposed to be safe here, but now I feel like I have to protect them in the place where they should be safe. Marco is still out there, still breathing, and that alone makes my skin itch with restless anger. He is supposed to be dead by now, but tonight we will hunt him down and kill him!Logan is already preparing when I enter the study, weapons laid on his desk. His movements are precise, his face calm in that dangerous way I know too well, the way it looks when he has already decided someone has to die because they are a threat to his family.“We leave in twenty minutes,” he says without looking at me.I step closer. “We leave in twenty minutes,” I repeat slowly, making sure he hears the difference.That is when he finally looks up at me, and in his eyes I see it, not fear for himself,

Marco’s POVThe bar I am in now is not the kind of place anyone would look for a man like me, and that is exactly why I chose it, because it sits on the edge of the city where the streets are narrow, the lights are broken, and people mind their own business because they know better than to ask questions that could get them killed. The building smells of desperation, and the walls are darkened by years of secrets whispered too close and deals made too quietly, and as I sit in the back room with my shoulders pressed against the wall, I know this place will forget me the moment I leave, which is all I want right now.I do not sit near the window, and I do not sit near the door. I choose the space in between, where I can see everything without being seen, where I can hear footsteps before they reach me, where my instincts can stretch out instead of curling in fear. The chair beneath me creaks softly when I shift my weight, and I still immediately, my body trained to react even to the smal

Logan’s POVI do not move immediately, because if you rush into something, you die, and Marco has survived this long because he knows how to wait, even if tonight he has misjudged who is waiting for whom. I stay in the narrow hallway with my back against the cold wall, listening to the rhythm of voices behind the door, the low murmur of men who believe they are safe because they chose to hide in the shadows, and I feel the slow, familiar calm settle into my heart when I know I have my enemies cornered.“Are you sure you were not followed?” I hear Marco ask the man we followed here.“Yes, I am positive,” He answers.“You know that Logan can move like a wolf in the darkness of night. I do not trust the peace. I know him better than he knows himself. I have studied him for years from afar,” Marco says.“Don, you trained us. I know when I am followed,” The guy answers.“Okay then, let’s get to business,” Marco says. I listen to his plans to go to my house. He somehow got footage of my ent