All Chapters of Till Death Do Us Part: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

31 Chapters

21: People destroy what they love

After three pieces, I was finally full. The TV was showing an old horror movie in black and white, and Marek seemed oddly content watching it. “Come closer,” he murmured after a while, his tone lighter. “I won’t bite… well, not yet.”He tugged at the duvet draped over him, and I hesitated before shifting slowly, following the pull until my shoulder brushed his. The warmth of him bled through the fabric.“You like movies?” he asked suddenly, catching me off guard.“Who doesn’t?” I replied, glancing at him.He chuckled, turning his face toward me. “I don’t care who doesn’t,” he said, voice soft but teasing. “I asked if you do.” I frowned slightly, unsure if it was a trick question. “Sure,” I said with a shrug.He grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. “You’re trying very hard to find the right answer, aren’t you? The one that keeps you here.”Was it that obvious? I pressed my lips together, shifting in my seat. “…Is there one?”His ice-blue eyes locked on mine, pinning me in place. “No.”

22: Now I have to hunt you

SANTIAGO’S POV:It was quiet. Too quiet. That was the first thing he noticed before opening the tall double doors. No soft rustle of silk, no faint hum of the fire, no sign of life. Just silence. Heavy and wrong. He stepped inside. The fire was still burning – barely – but the room felt cold. Empty. “Valería?” His voice was calm. Silence answered him. His gaze moved to the bed – the sheets untouched. His jacket thrown carelessly on it, discarded. “Julián,” he called, voice low. Within seconds, his second-in-command appeared in the doorway, expression unreadable. “El León,” he answered the call. “She’s gone,” Santiago said quietly. Julián froze. “Gone?” Santiago’s gaze scanned the room, landing on the curtains softly blowing in the wind. “The window.” His tone sharpened, heavy with disbelief and fury. He crossed the room, boots silent against the tiles, and stopped by the tall window. The latch was open, the curtains trembling in the draft. He leaned forward, catching sigh

23: Send me the damn address

The rain had turned to mist as the hours stretched and night slowly gave way to morning.Santiago sat behind the wheel of the black SUV, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other against his jaw. Every lead led to another dead end. Valerie Rousseau – no social media, no tax filings under the city database, no family registered locally. It was like she didn’t exist.“You sure Javier said Rousseau?” Julián asked hesitantly.“Yes, Julián – positive.” Santiago was starting to sound agitated.“I’ll start looking for all the Valeries in the city. Maybe she’s using a false name.”“A false name…” Santiago looked out the window, the sky turning pink as dawn approached.“I’ll keep you posted, jefe. But it might take some time. Maybe you should go home –? ““What about her parents’ name? Maybe one of them was Rousseau?”Julián went silent for a moment. “I’ll look up all birth certificates from twenty to twenty-five years ago.”“Good. Call me when you have something.”He dropped the phone

24: Shameless little harlot

SANTIAGO’S POV:Five o’clock came and went.Then five-oh-five.Then five-ten.Santiago stood across the street from Hotel Grand Ocean View, his intense stare fixed on the polished glass entrance. The black SUV waited at the curb behind him, Julián beside it with one hand folded over the other, patient as stone.Santiago was not patient.He had arrived before her shift ended. Earlier than necessary. Earlier than reasonable. He had told himself it was strategy. That he needed to see whether Marek was watching. Whether Wiktor’s men had dared circle the hotel.But that wasn’t the whole truth.His last shred of restraint was running thin, watching the front doors open and close for everyone except the one person he had come for.Valerie.His French rose.His runaway angel.He wanted to see her walk out alive.He wanted to see that stubborn little rose lift her chin, pretend she hadn’t been afraid, pretend she hadn’t run from him in the middle of the night and shattered his control into a t

25: Pray I find her alive and unharmed

Julián pulled the man to his feet by the back of his collar before Santiago changed his mind, then guided him forward with a politeness that looked almost civilized, if one ignored the threat in every step.The security room smelled of old coffee and dust. A guard sat inside, round-faced and nervous, already half-standing as they entered. Santiago did not waste words. Julián locked the door behind them.“Cameras,” Santiago said.The guard glanced at the manager. The manager, still wheezing, nodded once.With shaking hands, the guard pulled up the footage.Santiago turned toward the manager, making him flinch instantly.“Which floor?”The manager blinked at him, terrified. “What?”“You said you saw them in a corridor.” Santiago’s voice was silk wrapped around a knife. “Which floor?”The man swallowed, trembling now.“T-third,” he stuttered. &

26: I told him

VALERIE’S POV:For a moment, nobody moved.The door stood open behind Patryk, letting in the stale hallway air and something colder with it. Fear. It slipped into the apartment like smoke, curling around my throat.Marek stood between us, one hand still on the doorframe, his body half-turned away from me. His shirt was wrinkled from the couch, his hair slightly disordered from where my fingers had been tangled in it moments ago.Moments ago.Before the knock.Before Patryk’s pale face.Before those two words shattered whatever strange fragile thing had started to grow between us.‘They know.’Marek exhaled through his nose, almost amused.“Santiago knows?” he asked, voice lazy, casual. Too casual. “Good. Let him come.” He stepped aside, opening the door wider for his brother. “You look like you’re about to faint, brat. Want some cold pizza?”Patryk stare

27: Wrapped up in a bow

Patryk’s words hung like a death sentence in the apartment.Wiktor knows.I told him you were going to bring her in.Marek’s jaw flexed.Patryk rushed on. “I said you wanted it to be a surprise. That you took her because you knew Santiago would lose his mind, and you wanted to hand her over properly. I told him you were going to deliver her...” He swallowed, voice thinning. “Like you said. Wrapped up in a bow.”The words slithered across the floor between us.Nice wrapped up in a bow.Marek had said it earlier with a grin, with smoke on his breath and cruelty in his eyes.But now there was no grin.Only the dreadful weight of a joke turning into a sentence.Marek looked at me.For one heartbeat, I saw him. Not the wolf. Not the brute. Not Wiktor’s hound.Just Marek.A man standing between two lives.Mine.His brother’s.And I saw t

28: There she is

VALERIE’S POV:Get dressed.The words stayed in the air between us, colder than the apartment, colder than the fear crawling beneath my skin.For a moment, I didn’t move.I just stared at Marek, searching for the man who had given me water. The man who had draped a duvet over my legs. The man who had looked at me like maybe, just maybe, I was something he hadn’t meant to ruin.But he was gone.The wolf stood in his place.His eyes were empty now. Guarded. Icy.A soldier preparing to carry out an order he hated.Patryk lingered by the door, pale and restless, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He looked younger than before. Smaller somehow. Like fear had peeled years off him.“Marek,” he said quietly. “Maybe we still have time to think of something.”Marek didn’t look at him. “No.”“But if Santiago is already looking for her, maybe we could

29: Pain keeps people alive

When I opened the bathroom door, both brothers looked up.Marek’s gaze swept over me.Not like before.Not with that reckless hunger that had made my skin burn.This time, something flickered in his eyes and vanished so quickly I almost missed it.Regret.Good.Let it rot in him.I stepped into the living room, clutching the hem of my uniform, my bare feet silent against the floor.“Well?” Marek asked.His voice had regained that rough, mocking edge, but it didn’t fit him right now. It sat crooked on him.I looked him dead in the eyes.“I hope Santiago gets his hands on you.”Patryk sucked in a breath.Marek went still.Then he laughed.Dry. Low. Almost empty.“There she is.”His smile spread slowly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I was starting to worry you’d gone soft on me, little lamb.”“Don’t cal

30: You brought me a gift

Patryk parked the Mercedes in front of a large, white-stoned industrial building with roses growing wild in front of it, enclosed behind dark iron gates. The tall windows glowed with amber light, and ivy climbed the walls untamed. The gravel path leading to the house curved around a fountain where marble angels poured water from broken urns.Angels. Their faces were smooth, empty, and blind.I stared at them as Patryk killed the engine.Beside me Marek was silent. He had barely spoken during the drive. His hand rested on his thigh, fingers curled loosely. But I could see the tension in his knuckles, his jaw and his shoulders.As if delivering me to Wiktor was already hurting him.Good. He should feel the weight of it.And I hoped he wouldn’t be able to look himself in the mirror afterwards.For a moment no one moved.The silence inside the car was deafening.Then Marek opened the door.“Out,” he said. His voice was rough.I didn’t move. My body was frozen.Even Patryk was frozen in hi

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