جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 100

Elena’s Point Of ViewMatilda’s face twisted, her breath hitching in her throat like she’d been slapped, because she had been, not with my hand, but with my words. Her voice trembled, outraged, her hand twitching at her side like she was considering it… actually considering raising it to strike me. "What did you just say?"I didn’t flinch. I didn’t back down. I caught her wrist before she could move, my grip iron, my voice a whisper… dark, deadly, my eyes burning into hers. "Don’t you ever pull this stunt again, Matilda." My fingers tightened just enough to make her wince, my voice low, controlled, each word a warning. "I only respected you before because I thought you were the adult here." My laugh was cold, hollow, my grip loosening as I stepped back, my gaze sweeping over her like she was nothing. "I thought you ought to have some common sense." My voice dropped, disgusted, final. "But I guess…" I shook my head, my lips curling in a mocking smile. "I was wrong. And I rated you fa

Elena’s Point Of ViewMatilda’s words hit me like a blow… sharp, cruel, deliberate, and for a moment, the world tilted. My fingers clenched into fists so tight my nails bit into my palms, the pain grounding me, anchoring me as the memories came rushing back… unwanted, unrelenting, raw.Five years ago.The hospital smelled of antiseptic and despair, the beep of the heart monitor a relentless countdown, each sound like a hammer against my ribs. Dave… my baby brother, my sunshine, the boy who’d laughed too loud and loved too hard, lay in that sterile bed, his skin pale as the sheets, his breath shallow, labored, his chest rising and falling like it hurt just to exist. The doctors had said it was bad… really bad. His heart, the one that had beaten so strong, so full of life, was failing him. A congenital defect, they’d called it. Something he’d lived with since birth, something that had finally caught up to him. And there was nothing I could do.I remembered the tears… hot, uncontrollable

Graham’s Point Of ViewThe air in the foyer was thick with tension, so heavy it pressed against my skin like a physical weight. Elena stood there, her suitcases at her feet, her dark eyes burning with a fire I hadn’t seen in years. My mother’s words hung between us, sharp and venomous, the threat of losing everything she’d built… everything she had worked hard for, lingering like a curse."Mom… stop." My voice was low, a warning, but my mother ignored me, her lips curling into a cold smirk as she stepped closer to Elena."No, Graham." Her voice was smooth, calculated, the kind of tone she used when she was about to deliver a killing blow. "Let her know what she’s losing when she leaves."Elena didn’t flinch. She just stood there, her gaze locked onto Matilda’s, her expression unreadable.Matilda continued, her voice dripping with disdain. "My son made you who you are today. If not for marrying into my family, where would you have been?" She spread her hands, gesturing to the grandeur

Jaxx’s Point Of ViewThe hum of the laptop fading into silence was the only sound in the room, the glow of the screen dimming as I shut it closed with a sharp click. My fingers rubbed at my temples, the tension coiling there like a live wire, thrumming with the aftermath of hours spent buried in spreadsheets and contracts, in numbers and deals that meant nothing when compared to the gnawing unease in my gut. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, mocking me… 4:47 PM. “Whoa.” My voice was a low mutter, rough from disuse, as I realized just how long I’d been glued to that damn chair. "It’s been this long?"I stood, stretching the kinks out of my back, my muscles protesting after hours of being hunched over the desk. The room was bathed in the golden hue of the setting sun, the light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows and painting the space in warm, amber tones. But it didn’t feel warm. It felt empty. Cold. Like the whole place was holding its breath, waiting for something… so

Elena’s Point Of ViewThe door clicked shut behind me, the sound final, irrevocable, like the slamming of a cell door after a lifetime sentence. The stranger opened the car door for me, his movements smooth, effortless, like he’d done this a thousand times before. The leather seats creaked as I slid inside, the scent of new car and something masculine… spice, leather, power, filling my nose. It wasn’t Graham’s car. It wasn’t his scent. It wasn’t him. And God, did that feel good.Roman slid into the driver’s seat, his broad shoulders filling the space, his hands gripping the wheel like he owned it. The engine roared to life, a deep, throaty growl that vibrated through the car, through me, shaking loose something deep inside my chest. I exhaled, long and slow, my fingers curling into the leather as I leaned back against the seat, the tension draining out of me like water from a broken dam."Thanks," my voice was hoarse, raw from screaming, from fighting, from years of swallowing words