All Chapters of How To Love A Murderer.: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Chapter Eighty Two: Cracks In The WayThe text was eating him alive.John paced the living room back and forth. He couldn’t sit or think about anything else than that call. Then that text. It was all wrong.The front door opened and Elijah walked in, arms full of grocery bags. He took one look at John’s face and froze. “Babe? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”John dragged a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots. “Mark called, out of the blue. Said he saw Ian. On 5th and Grand. He swore on his life it was him.”Elijah went very still. The plastic bag in his hand slipped, a tomato rolling out onto the floor. “Mark? And?”“He was mid-sentence,” John said, his voice tight and strained. “Telling me where, saying Ian was all the way out in some random state… then the call just cut. Like someone grabbed the phone. A minute later, a text. ‘it was just a mistake. sorry. wrong person.’ That’s it. No call back. Nothing.” He looked at Elijah, his eyes haunted. “It doesn’t

Chapter Eighty Four: The Crack in The Drawing. Ian stepped out of the car and tilted his head all the way back. The skyscraper seemed to scratch the sky. Huge silver letters spelled it out at the top “THE SIXTEENTH HOUR.” “Okay,” he muttered under his breath. “So ‘rich’ was a major understatement.” “Come on, let’s go inside,” Zhedya said, reaching out to take his hand. Ian hesitated. He subtly pulled his own hand away, shoving it deep into his pocket like it was hiding. “I can walk by myself.” “You don’t have to be shy, Ian,” Zhedya said, but he didn’t push it. There was a smirk in his voice. A few minutes later, Ian was set up at a sleek, secondary desk in Zhedya’s massive CEO office. The view was insane…the whole city looked like a toy model. Zhedya had given him a stack of files…cold cases, weird deaths, unsolved stuff. “Anything that could be The Ghost’s work,” he’d said. Ian tried to focus but he really couldn’t . He could feel Zhedya’s eyes on him from across

Chapter Eighty Six: The Man In The Shop Zhedya smiled at his phone screen. The little dot showed Ian was at 5th and Grand. Perfect. He had left work early, wanting to surprise him. Maybe they could get coffee, hold hands like a normal couple. “Change of plans,” he told the driver, leaning forward. “Take me to 5th and Grand.” The car slid through traffic. As they got closer, Zhedya’s eyes, always scanning, caught a familiar shape in the crowd. A way of walking…head of hair. His smile vanished and his blood turned to ice. It was John. “Stop here. Now.” His voice was a sharp crack in the quiet car. He was out before the car fully stopped, moving through the people like a shark through water. His eyes were locked on John’s back. All the soft thoughts from a second ago were gone, replaced by one dark, clear command in his head. End him. Right now. Before he ever sees Ian. The leash is off, he had to put the dog down for good. He closed the distance, his hand already tensing, p

Chapter Eighty Nine: Too Many Secrets and The Past. “You know, Zhedya…” Ian started, his voice quiet in the dark bedroom. He needed to ask about the name, about the look on his sister’s face. But Zhedya didn’t let him finish. He pulled Ian closer, his arm like a steel band. “Shh,” he murmured, his lips against Ian’s temple. “Ignore Linnea. She’s always been dramatic and jealous. We’ve never gotten along.” He kissed the spot softly. “I would never do anything to hurt you, baby.You have to believe that.” “But the name,” Ian pressed, pushing against his chest to look at him. He wasn’t backing down this time. “Why is it so different from the one you use? Why did she call you that?” Zhedya sighed, a heavy sound like he was carrying the world. He looked away, his handsome face shadowed in the moonlight. “When I was eighteen,” he began, his voice low and rough, “I joined the military. Special forces. We did… terrible things. In places like Iraq, Afghanistan.” He paused, swallowing

Chapter Ninety: Into The Line of Fire ‘He was an ex-military man. Special forces, maybe. That had to be it.’ Ian lay in the dark, the thought circling in his head like a trapped bird. It explained the skills. The scary calm. The way he looked at a gun like it was a tool, not a weapon. It had to. Soren is just a crazy old man with a story. Zhedya is protecting me. This is just… extreme protection. Right? He tried to make the thoughts stick, but they kept sliding away. Every time he almost believed it, he saw it again…the flat, empty look in Zhedya’s eyes as he’d checked the rifle’s scope. It wasn’t the look of a soldier on a mission. It was the look of a man doing a chore. Something cold and final. He was wrapped in Zhedya’s arms, but he felt miles away. His body was stiff, every muscle locked tight with a fear he couldn’t name. Zhedya stirred behind him, sensing the tension. His arm tightened, pulling Ian back harder against his chest, a possessive clamp. “You need to sleep