บททั้งหมดของ Married to the arrogant senior : บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

The cabin was too quiet.Not the peaceful kind of quiet—the kind that hummed with tension, vibrating just beneath the skin. Every shadow stretched too long, every creak of the floorboards felt too loud. Even the fire in the hearth seemed to burn with suspicion, its flicker casting more menace than warmth.I stood at the window, my fingertips brushing over the cold iron shutters. My reflection wavered against the faint glow of firelight, pale and restless, eyes hollowed by sleepless nights. Behind me, Xavier moved with an energy that seemed endless—sharpening knives, rechecking ammunition, pacing like a caged animal waiting for the fight to begin.This wasn’t just survival. This was preparation for war.And I was in the middle of it.I turned to face him, watching as he holstered a handgun with clinical precision. His movements were practiced, efficient, too smooth to belong to someone who’d only picked up weapons in moments of desperation. This was his world. A world he’d been born in

The knife trembled in my hand, slick against my palm, but I refused to let go.Every clash of fists, every grunt of pain, every crash of breaking wood rattled through my bones like thunder. My father and Xavier were locked in a storm that had no mercy, no space for me, no room for hesitation.And yet I stood in the middle of it—weapon raised, breath jagged, my pulse a frantic drumbeat in my ears.Xavier slammed my father against the wall, wood splintering. My father twisted free with terrifying precision, his elbow smashing into Xavier’s ribs. The sound that tore from Xavier’s throat hollowed me out—raw, guttural pain.“No!” The word ripped from me before I could stop it.Both men froze, just for a heartbeat.Xavier’s gaze flicked to me—wild, protective, desperate. My father’s eyes, cold and calculating, slid down to the knife in my grip. He smirked.“You see?” he said, his voice a low, poisonous murmur. “She doesn’t want this. She doesn’t want blood.”He took a step toward me. Xavier

The stream whispered softly at our feet, water trickling over smooth stones as if the world hadn’t ended just hours ago.I leaned into Xavier’s shoulder, my eyes fixed on the shifting current. Every ripple reminded me of the way time slipped past, unstoppable and uncaring. The forest smelled of moss and wet earth, grounding and overwhelming all at once.But no matter how far we’d walked, no matter how much the trees closed around us, I couldn’t shake the image of my father’s eyes. Open. Empty. Still accusing.Xavier’s hand tightened around mine, anchoring me again. He hadn’t spoken for a while, and the silence between us wasn’t heavy, not like in the cabin. It was… waiting. Like he was giving me space to breathe, but ready to hold me together if I shattered.“I don’t know how to do this,” I whispered finally, my voice hoarse.His head turned toward me. “Do what?”“Live. After everything. After…” My throat closed around the words. I pressed my hand to my stomach, feeling the flutter be

The fire had burned down to a faint glow, its embers pulsing like a heartbeat in the dark. I clung to Xavier’s shirt, his scent of smoke and iron surrounding me, but it wasn’t enough to drown out Bastien’s voice echoing in my skull. Little sister. The words refused to fade.Even when I pressed my hands over my ears, desperate for silence, they slithered through anyway, coiling around my thoughts, poisoning everything I thought I knew about myself.Xavier held me tighter, as though his strength alone could shield me from something as insidious as blood. His hand threaded through my hair, grounding me, his lips brushing the top of my head. But when I tilted my face up, his eyes betrayed him, dark, haunted, and furious all at once.He wasn’t just shaken. He was terrified.“Xavier,” I whispered, my throat raw, “what if he’s right?”His jaw tightened. His hands slid down to my arms, gripping me so firmly I felt the heat of his palms through my skin. “He’s not.”“You don’t know that.” My vo

The ring of soldiers tightened, their boots crunching against the forest floor in perfect unison, like one body commanded by a single will. Shadows swallowed every gap between the trees, and the air grew suffocating, heavy with the scent of steel and damp earth. Xavier shifted his stance, blade angled, his entire body thrumming with lethal intent. His grip on my arm was iron, steadying me though my knees buckled beneath the weight of fear. I pressed my palm to my belly, feeling the faintest flutter inside, our child. My child. My father’s grandchild. My blood. Their obsession. Lucien’s eyes glowed like embers in the half-light. Calm. Calculated. His smile had none of Bastien’s manic sharpness, and that terrified me more. Bastien was chaos I could anticipate. Lucien was control I couldn’t read. “You’ve grown,” Lucien said softly, his gaze sweeping over me like I was some artifact unearthed after years of dust. “Our father would have been proud.” “Proud?” My voice cracked. Rage shot