Todos os capítulos de Blood Ties And Silk Chains: Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

The penthouse’s alarms didn’t blare this time—they whispered. A low, pulsing tone slid through the vents, a sound that felt more like a presence than a warning. Not shrill, not frantic—just a hum, deliberate and low, meant for ears trained to hear it.Bram’s voice came through Varian’s earpiece a second later, taut and clipped.“Got movement on the east perimeter. Something in the air.”Varian was at the glass wall before his breath even caught up with him, eyes narrowing against the sea of light below. The city sprawled like circuitry, every avenue lit, every rooftop edged in neon. But he wasn’t looking at the horizon—he was looking for motion in the gaps.“How high?”“Twenty meters above the service alley,” Bram replied. “Small. Fast.”Behind him, Liora’s bare feet whispered against marble. She appeared in the doorway of the living room, hair loose, face shadowed by sleep. “What’s going on?”Varian didn’t glance back. His voice carried the hard edge of command. “Go to the interior h

The hospital wing was already locked down. Two men posted at every elevator, cameras tilted, visitor logs erased before the day even began.Liora’s palms were damp as she stood outside the prep room. Wren’s voice drifted through the thin door, cheerful and oblivious, asking the nurse if she’d get ice cream afterwards.Varian stood beside her, tie dark against his white shirt, a shadow that seemed to expand until it filled the corridor.“You don’t need to be here,” she said tightly.His eyes didn’t move from the door. “She’s my daughter. I’m here.”“You being here makes this about you, not her.”He finally looked at her. “No. It makes it about never again losing what’s mine to a locked door.”The surgeon stepped out, cap already on. “Parents—we’ll need signatures.”Liora reached for the clipboard. Varian’s hand landed on it first.“I’ll sign,” he said.Her jaw tightened. “So will I.”The surgeon looked between them, uncertain. “Both is fine.”Liora scrawled her name fast, ink cutting d

The knock wasn’t timid. It echoed against steel and glass, far too deliberate to be a mistake.Ines opened the penthouse door a crack, then stiffened. She didn’t move to block the man waiting on the threshold: slick black suit, polished shoes, hands empty except for a pristine bouquet of white orchids.“Delivery,” he said smoothly. “For the lady of the house.”Varian appeared behind Ines before she could answer. “Step inside.”The emissary obeyed without hesitation, walking like a man rehearsed to meet his death if necessary. He extended the orchids toward Liora, who stood frozen near the sofa.“From the Marcellis,” the man said. His voice was silk, but his smile was thin. “Our condolences. For future losses.”The silence that followed cracked like glass.Varian didn’t reach for the flowers. He didn’t blink. His voice dropped low, calm, and lethal. “Ines. Strip him.”The emissary raised his hands, unruffled, as Ines’s guards swept him for wires, blades, and bugs. Nothing. Just the flo

Dinner ended in laughter—the small, startling kind that cracked through the constant weight of guards and sirens. Wren had eaten two helpings of noodles, blanket draped like a cape, before yawning so wide it made Miss Pei laugh softly.“Time for bed,” Pei said.Wren nodded, leaning against her. “Can we finish the kite tomorrow?”“Tomorrow,” Pei promised.Varian watched them disappear down the hall. His gaze lingered until the last trace of Wren’s small figure vanished. Only then did he pick up his glass.“You’re staring,” Liora said quietly.“I’m planning,” Varian corrected.“That’s the problem.”His eyes slid to hers. “Explain.”She set her napkin down with deliberate calm. “No meetings. No ‘business’ after seven p.m. Not in the penthouse. Not near her room. Not within earshot.”Varian arched a brow. “You’re setting curfews now?”“I’m setting boundaries. She needs to believe this place is safe. Not a war room.”“It is a war room.”“It doesn’t have to look like one.” Liora’s voice was

The attorney’s office was discreet, marble floors swallowing footsteps, windows shaded against curious eyes.Marius Leth stood as Liora entered, his suit precise, his gaze sharper than the silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.“You understand what you’re asking for,” he said, after she explained. “Sole custody, filed quietly. Not contested—yet.”Her fingers curled around the leather strap of her bag. “I can’t let him use Wren as leverage. Not against me. Not against her.”“Then you must be ready for war,” Leth said simply. “This man… Varian. He doesn’t strike me as the type who yields.”Liora’s throat tightened. “He yields—to Wren. That’s all that matters.”“And to you?” Leth asked.Her silence was its own confession.Back at the penthouse, the storm hadn’t cleared. Varian paced the study, jacket discarded, tie loosened. When she walked in, his eyes flicked to her immediately, narrowing.“You were gone,” he said.“I had errands.”“Errands,” he repeated, testing the word like it t