All Chapters of BOUND BY DECEIT : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The moon hung low over the city, casting long silver shadows across the streets. The safe house was quiet, but inside, Damian and Amaya moved like sentinels, their senses sharp, their hearts tense. Nancy’s last strike had been bold, public, and humiliating, but it had failed. Still, they knew her—it was only a matter of time before she tried again.Amaya paced the length of the room, restless and anxious. Her fingers grazed the edge of the table, lingering over the stack of intercepted messages Kelly had brought in earlier. Each one was a whisper from the shadows, a reminder that Nancy was always watching, always plotting.Damian leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her. “You need to calm down,” he said softly, his voice carrying both command and comfort. “You’re letting her control your thoughts.”Amaya stopped pacing, turning to meet his gaze. “How can I calm down?” she asked, frustration edging her tone. “She’s everywhere, Damian! Every move we make, every step we tak

The morning after surviving Nancy’s first trap, the safe house was unusually quiet. Amaya sat at the large wooden table in the living area, fidgeting with her coffee cup. The warmth of the mug seeped into her hands, but it did little to calm the racing of her heart.Damian had left early, claiming urgent business matters, but Amaya knew he wasn’t simply handling papers. He was tracking Nancy’s network, trying to anticipate her next move. She had wanted to follow, to stay close, but Damian insisted she remain at the safe house. “You need to be safe,” he had said, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face with that intense, protective gaze that made her knees weak.Kelly sat across from her, eyes glued to her laptop. “I’ve been going through Nancy’s contacts,” she said, voice low. “She’s got more allies than we thought. But… there’s someone new. Someone who’s working against her. Someone who could be… an ally.”Amaya raised an eyebrow. “An ally? Who?”Kelly hesitated, clearly weighi

The morning sun broke through the curtains, casting a warm golden glow over the safe house. Despite the light, Amaya couldn’t shake the tension from the previous night. Shadows still lingered in her mind—the memory of Nancy’s eyes, the operatives’ aggression, the pulse-pounding adrenaline of the confrontation.She sat at the kitchen counter, sipping tea, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Damian moved around her with quiet efficiency, preparing breakfast, yet his eyes never left her for long. There was a new edge to him, a sharpness born from survival and strategy, but softened by the tenderness he reserved for her.“You’re too quiet this morning,” Damian observed, setting a plate of toast and eggs in front of her.Amaya forced a smile. “Just thinking,” she replied, her voice steady but her mind still replaying every moment from the previous night.Damian sat across from her, studying her. “Thinking is fine,” he said softly, “but overthinking is dangerous. You need to focus on what w

The night was restless, heavy with an electric tension that pressed against Amaya’s chest. Even the city seemed to hold its breath, the usual hum of traffic muted under the threat of what they knew was coming. Damian had been silent for most of the evening, his mind clearly racing, plotting their next move against Nancy. Amaya watched him from the dim light of the safe house, noting the furrow of his brows, the tight set of his jaw. She wanted to reach out, to tell him that she was with him no matter what—but the storm outside mirrored the storm in her heart.“Damian,” she whispered, stepping closer to him. “Talk to me. What’s going on in that head of yours?”He didn’t look at her immediately, but when he finally did, his dark eyes softened, betraying the intensity of his concern. “Amaya… tonight isn’t just another operation. Nancy has planned something bigger than we imagined. This is the heart of the storm.”Her stomach clenched at his words. “The heart of the storm?” she repeated,

The next morning broke with a quiet unease that neither of them could ignore.The rain had stopped sometime during the night, but the air still felt heavy, the sky a pale gray sheet pressing down on the world. Amaya stood by the kitchen window, coffee in hand, watching droplets roll down the glass. Her reflection looked strange—stronger, older somehow. Maybe that was what love and survival did to a person.Behind her, Damian was already dressed, his dark jacket fitted, his movements deliberate. Every motion of his hands—loading the gun, adjusting the strap of his watch—was calm, precise, controlled. Too controlled.“You didn’t sleep,” Amaya said without turning around.He gave a small grunt. “Neither did you.”She turned, offering a half-smile. “Touché.”He finally looked at her, and for a moment, something soft flickered behind his eyes. “You don’t have to come, Amaya.”She sighed, setting down her mug. “We’re not doing that again, Damian. I’m in this. Until the end.”He walked close