Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Silent Pulse Of Fire. : Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

⸻The city at night was a living, breathing predator — all teeth and temptation. Glass towers glimmered under the streetlamps, every lit window another set of watching eyes. Down below, black cars purred along rain-slick roads, carrying people who had the money and power to bend the city to their will.Serena Ward didn’t belong here. Not really. She told herself that as she slipped past the velvet rope and into The Orchid Room, the most exclusive lounge on the east side. She wasn’t here for its cocktails or the celebrities that hid in the shadowed booths. She was here for the noise, the distraction — anything to keep her mind from looping back to the past she worked so hard to bury.The music was low and smooth, wrapping around her like warm smoke. Crystal glasses clinked under dim golden lighting, and the faint scent of high-end perfume battled with something sharper… something primal.Alpha scent.It prickled her senses, making her Omega instincts stir restlessly. Serena exhaled slo

⸻Lucien Vale stood alone in the vast, sleek expanse of his penthouse, the city sprawling beneath him like a glittering web of ambition and secrets. The skyline was breathtaking — a constellation of steel and glass, alive with lights that never truly faded. But to Lucien, it felt more like a cage.His reflection caught his eye in the floor-to-ceiling windows: sharp jawline, dark hair perfectly styled, and those storm-gray eyes — a storm that no one dared to disturb. Yet behind that perfect façade, turmoil churned beneath the surface.Tonight was the night of the engagement gala. A night meant to celebrate the union of two powerful families, but to Lucien, it was a bitter reminder of how little control he had over his own life.The door to the penthouse opened, and Clara Delacroix entered, moving with the poise and confidence of a queen. She wore a sleek black gown that hugged her lithe frame, her hair swept into an elegant updo, and her eyes

⸻The city night was restless, a shifting sea of headlights and murmurs that drifted through the towering glass of Lucien Vale’s penthouse. He stood alone in his office, a tumbler of amber whiskey untouched on his desk, his mind tangled in the storm Serena had left behind.Triplets.He hadn’t been able to focus since the gala. Every deal, every call, every meeting blurred into meaningless noise compared to the truth that now echoed in his skull. He had children—three of them—and Serena had kept them hidden.A mix of anger and longing knotted in his chest. He didn’t know if he wanted to shake her for vanishing or pull her into his arms and demand to know everything.But the one thing he knew? He wasn’t going to let her disappear again.The quiet click of stilettos broke through his thoughts. Clara entered without knocking, her long black gown sweeping over the polished floor, the faint scent of jasmine announcing her presence before her voice did.“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said, h

⸻The next morning, Serena woke to the sound of rain against the windows. The triplets were already up—Eli was making a mess of cereal in the kitchen while Aria tried to convince Lila that wearing pajamas to school was perfectly acceptable.It should have been a normal day.But something in Serena’s gut told her that normal was about to vanish.When her phone buzzed, she almost ignored it. The number was unknown. But the message that popped up stopped her cold.Your little secret won’t stay hidden forever.Attached were three photos. Grainy, taken from a distance, but unmistakable. One of her in the park with the children. Another of Lucien crouched beside Eli, helping him with a toy. And the third—her and Lucien in the same frame, both smiling.Her stomach dropped.Whoever sent these knew exactly what they were doing.Across town, in the private suite of a luxury hotel, Clara sipped her espresso and scrolled through the same photos with a satisfied smirk.She’d always been meticulous

⸻ The ballroom shimmered under golden chandeliers, each crystal dangling like a captured star. The sound of polite laughter and whispered gossip swirled around the space, a carefully orchestrated symphony of wealth and influence. Damien moved through it as if the room itself had been built around him. Every step was deliberate, every gesture measured, every smile precise. To the untrained eye, he was perfection incarnate: the Alpha, untouchable, magnetic, and commanding.Serena leaned against the marble railing of the grand staircase, her eyes tracing him without being noticed. She had seen Damien in social settings before, always performing the role expected of him. But tonight, she sensed subtle shifts, the smallest cracks in the flawless mask he presented. His posture, rigid yet fluid, carried the weight of practiced control. But the faint tension in his jaw, the brief falter of his smile, suggested something beneath the surface—a strain he would neve