Lahat ng Kabanata ng A GAME OF LIES: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

The cool night air should have calmed her but it didn’t. Amira leaned against the wrought-iron railing of the balcony, her chest rising and falling too fast, as if she had sprinted miles rather than walked calmly out of the dining hall. Beyond her stretched the gardens of immaculate lawns slashed by moonlight, fountains that sang softly against the silence, and guards pacing like shadows with rifles slung casually over their shoulders. Her palms pressed hard into the iron, the bite of the metal grounding her. She could still hear the laughter behind the closed doors, the clinking of crystal as Montez and the others toasted to alliances. To victories. To futures carved in blood and smoke. She had spoken, she had turned the tide, she had made Montez proud. On the surface, everything was perfect but inside, she was in turmoil. Yanov Sergei. Of all men. Of all devils in the underworld. Why him? Why tonight?

The room was suffocatingly silent after she slammed the door on Montez. Amira pressed her back against it, her chest rising and falling like she had just sprinted a marathon. Her throat burned, her lips trembled, and before she knew it, hot tears streamed freely down her cheeks. She slid to the floor, curling into herself, her hands clawing at the fabric of her dress. It was too much. Yan’s hands on her, his whispered threats, Montez’s accusing gaze, his unwanted concern. She had barely survived the night without her entire past detonating in her face. “This is all your fault,” she whispered into the shadows, her voice breaking. “All of it, Montez.” Dragging herself up with trembling legs, Amira stumbled to the dresser where her most precious possession lay. A small, worn photograph, edges curling with time. Her brother, Luca, was smiling in the faded sunlight of a long-gone afternoon. Her b

The scream was loud enough to send every muscle in Montez De Vitalio’s body snapping to rigid attention. He was already moving before the second shriek followed, boots pounding against the creaking wooden floorboards. Enzo trailed just behind him, hand instinctively brushing his gun. The door rattled under Montez’s shove as he stormed inside, chest tight, heart thundering with one thought—Amira. However, what he found nearly made him laugh. She stood in the farthest corner of the small bedroom, plastered against the wall as though she were facing down a firing squad. Her eyes were wide, hair a mess, one hand pressed to her chest while the other pointed stiffly toward the opposite side of the room. “There!” she cried, her voice breaking on the word. “It’s right there!” Montez followed the line of her shaking finger. A cockroach crawled lazily up the peeling wallpaper. He stared, blinked once

The afternoon sun hung lazily in the sky, gilding the coastal town with honeyed light. Amira walked briskly down the narrow cobbled street, her sandals clicking against stone. She hadn’t planned on leaving the apartment; in fact, she had sworn she wouldn’t. But staying locked in that suffocating space with him? Impossible. The taste of his kiss still clung to her lips like a brand. Every time she blinked, she could see him again—his towering frame, the heat in his eyes, the raw possession that had spilled into the way he devoured her mouth. Amira pressed her palms to her burning cheeks. “Urgh, get a grip, Amira,” she muttered under her breath. But her feet carried her farther from the apartment anyway. It wasn’t fear that drove her. It wasn’t even hatred. It was the crushing weight of not knowing what she felt. If she looked at him again, if he cornered her with those eyes and that voice, she was afraid she woul

                  The iron gates creaked open as the sleek black car pulled into the estate along with his convoy, the headlights cutting sharp beams across the long stretch of manicured driveway.                 Amira’s hands clenched tighter in her lap, nails biting into her palms. The mansion loomed ahead, a shadow carved into the night, its towering pillars lit by a dozen golden lamps. It was elegant, ostentatious… intimidating, just like the man beside her.                 Montez didn’t spare her a glance. His posture was as immovable as stone, his gaze fixed straight ahead.