All Chapters of A GAME OF LIES: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The drive to the therapist’s office was quiet. Amira sat with her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her nerves was a storm beneath her calm exterior. Montez stared out the tinted window, his profile hard, unreadable. She wanted to reach for his hand, but something about his silence told her not to. When the car pulled up to a discreet, ivy-clad building on the outskirts of the city, she let out the smallest sigh of relief. For once, there was no sign of paparazzi or cameras. It was just them. She had high hopes that things would change after today. The receptionist ushered them into a warmly lit office. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with titles on psychology, relationships, and human behavior. A large armchair sat near the window, and across from it, a couch. A man rose from behind the desk. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with graying hair and kind brown eyes behind round glasses. He ext

“Luca…” Amira gasped, her voice trembling as she bolted upright in bed, sweat clinging to her temples. Her breath came in sharp gasps as though she had been running for miles. She pressed her hand against her chest, feeling her heart thudding violently. “Why are you suddenly haunting me?” The room was silent except for the sound of her ragged breathing. The nightmare still clung to her skin like smoke—her brother’s face, pale and streaked with tears, whispering her name, begging for justice. She shoved the sheets off her and paced across the room, pressing her palms against her temples. “Get out of my head. Please, just get out.” But she knew he wouldn’t. Not while she was here. Not while she was with Montez. “I hate this,” she muttered bitterly, though her chest ached at the confession. “I hate how much I’ve fallen for him.” The word

“It doesn’t add up, boss,” Enzo said, pacing near the wide glass windows. His reflection blurred against the skyline, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he turned back to Montez. “You’re telling me some amateur edit, some anonymous exposé, could actually bring down Montez De Vitalio? Someone on the inside is pulling strings. Someone who knows where to cut deepest.” Montez sat behind his desk, his fingers pressed against his temple, his jaw taut. The weight of the day’s news clung to him like a second skin. Every headline. Every protester screaming outside the gates. Every deal cut loose. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Montez muttered, his voice low but sharp. “This wasn’t random. Whoever did this knew the exact cracks in my armor. They knew where to aim.” Enzo leaned forward, resting his palms on the desk. “So you’re saying, Nathan?”

“Amira?” Her heart clenched. That voice. Low, feminine, and dripping with an old, familiar disdain. She turned sharply, her tone sharper than she intended. “Rhea? What are you doing here?” Rhea lingered by the door, one manicured hand brushing through her hair as if she had every right to stand there. “I… I wanted to see you.” “See me?” Amira’s brows furrowed. “After what you did at the hospital? After you accused me of being responsible for Montez getting shot and practically threw me out? You think I forgot?” Rhea’s painted lips curved into a practiced frown. She stepped closer, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. “I was wrong. I know that now. I let my fear cloud my judgment. You were only trying to help him, and I treated you like an enemy. For that… I’m sorry, Amira.” Amira let ou

Amira stepped into the restaurant with hesitant grace, the quiet click of her heels echoing against the marble floor. Chandeliers glittered overhead, their golden light shimmering across tables dressed in linen, polished cutlery gleaming under the crystal glow. It was the kind of place where power whispered in every corner, where conversations were hushed and secrets were spilled like fine wine. Rhea was already waiting. Poised, elegant, every inch of her polished to perfection, she sat near the window where the city stretched out in panoramic display. A silk blouse in a muted shade of pearl, delicate earrings, and a smile that seemed warm enough to melt steel. Yet beneath it, Amira could sense that razor-sharp edge, the one she had felt before. “Amira,” Rhea rose smoothly, extending her arms. “You look radiant.” Amira gave a polite smile. “Thank you. You picke