Todos los capítulos de My Ex, My Ruin: Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

Elena's POVEvery three days, I leave a micro SD card with copies of Apex files. Meeting notes. Anything I could access without raising suspicion. Miguel picked them up the next morning during his runs; he has recovered enough now to maintain the appearance of normal life.It was Week Eight of my undercover operation. Eight weeks of smiling at Victor, of attending board meetings. Eight weeks of slowly, carefully, gathering evidence that Apex was everything we knew it was.I dropped the latest card into the tree hollow at 6 AM, before anyone else was in the park. Checked to make sure no one was watching. And headed back to my apartment to prepare for another day at Apex.My phone buzzed as I reached the street. Victor.Good morning. Coffee at my office before the board meeting? We should discuss Geneva.I typed back: See you at 8.Geneva was in two weeks. Another conference. Another speech about Apex's commitment to sustainability. Another lie I'd have to sell convincingly.I was gett

Adrien's POVThe video file arrived at 3:47 AM.No message. No context. Just an anonymous upload to the secure server I'd been using to monitor Apex's network traffic.I almost deleted it, assuming it was spam, a virus, or another one of Morgan's attempts to compromise my systems.But something made me click it.The footage was grainy. Security camera quality. Timestamp: three months ago. Location: an Apex warehouse in Brooklyn.And there, in the center of the frame, was Victor Kaine.He was standing over a man tied to a chair. The man was begging. Pleading. I couldn't hear the audio, but I could read his lips: Please. I have a family. Please.Victor's expression was cold. Detached. He pulled out a gun.The man kept begging.Victor shot him. Once. Clean. Professional.Then he walked away, leaving the body slumped in the chair.The video ended.I sat there, staring at the frozen final frame. Victor's back as he exited the warehouse. A killer. A murderer. Caught on camera.This was it.

Elena's POVI arrived at Apex early, trying to maintain the appearance of normalcy. The article was still dominating news cycles. Stock prices are fluctuating. Board members are panicking.But inside, I was thinking about Morgan's ultimatum. About the choice I had to make in Geneva.My phone buzzed. A message from an internal Apex number I didn't recognize.Conference Room 7B. Now. Come alone. -VVictor.I glanced around. No one was watching. I slipped down the corridor to the smaller conference rooms on the seventh floor.Victor was there, pacing. He looked terrible, disheveled, with circles under his eyes, hands shaking."Victor? What's wrong?"He turned. His eyes were wild. Desperate. "She knows. Morgan knows I gave you the files. She knows everything."My blood went cold. "How?""I don't know. She just called me in this morning. Showed me surveillance footage of me at your safe house. At Adrien's location. She has everything." He ran his hands through his hair. "She said I have on

Elena's POVWe found a cheap motel in Queens. The kind of place that didn't ask questions and took cash.Adrien went out for supplies, food, burner phones, and anything we'd need to stay hidden while we figured out our next move.I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing.My phone buzzed. The burner Adrien had bought before he left.Unknown number.I almost didn't answer. But something made me pick up."Elena." Victor's voice. Rough. Broken. "I know where you are."My blood went cold. "How""I've been tracking Adrien since the warehouse. Following him. Watching." He paused. "I'm outside your motel. Room 23. I can see the light under your door."I stood, heart pounding. "Victor, listen to me.""I have to do this," he said. "Morgan gave me orders. Kill you both. His voice cracked. "I don't want to. God, I don't want to. But I don't know how to say no to her.""Then don't come in. Just leave. Disappear. You don't have to do what she says.""Yes, I do." The door handle turned.I'

Elena's POVThree days of highways and rest stops. Of cheap motels where we paid cash and didn't make eye contact with anyone. By the time we reached Bucharest, I was exhausted down to my bones.The city was gray. Cold. March in Romania felt like winter refusing to let go.Miguel's coordinates led us to the outskirts of a crumbling apartment complex that appeared to have been abandoned by time. Graffiti covered the walls. Windows were boarded up. The kind of place where people didn't ask questions because they didn't want answers.Perfect for hiding.We parked two blocks away. Walked the rest of the distance, bags over our shoulders, looking like any other travelers in a city full of transients.The apartment was on the fourth floor. No elevator. Just stairs that creaked with every step.I knocked on the door three times, paused, twice more. The code Miguel had given me.The door opened.Miguel stood there, and I barely recognized him.He'd lost weight. His face was drawn, older some