Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 71 - Chapitre 80

The address Leon texted her was on the outskirts of the city.Selene took a cab, she couldn't risk her car being traced, and spent the entire ride staring out the window, her hands trembling in her lap.She didn't know what to expect.A warehouse, maybe. Some abandoned building where he'd been hiding.Somewhere dark and desperate, matching the mess they'd both made. But when the cab pulled up and she stepped out onto the gravel path, her breath caught.It was a garden.Not just any garden, a private botanical garden, the kind rich people rented out for weddings and charity galas.Wrought-iron gates stood open, leading into a sprawling paradise of manicured hedges, flowering vines, and stone pathways that wound between fountains and marble statues.Lanterns hung from the trees, glowing softly in the early evening light. The air smelled like jasmine and roses, sweet and almost suffocating.It was exquisite.Beautiful.Romantic.And it broke her heart.Because she knew exactly why he'd c

Marcelline noticed it the moment she stepped into headquarters that morning, the silence wasn't just quiet, it was hollow. The kind of quiet that follows after something vital has been removed. No shadow trailing behind her. No lazy commentary murmured under his breath. No subtle presence anchoring the room when everything else threatened to tilt.Something was about to happen and she didn't feel good about it.She paused briefly at the glass doors of her office, fingers resting against the cold handle, grounding herself. This is fine, she told herself. This was always coming.Her assistant barely met her eyes as she handed over the tablet. “The overnight reports, ma'am.”Overnight reports meant trouble. They always did.Marcelline took the tablet and scanned quickly as she walked, heels sharp against marble. A supplier in Eastern Europe had halted shipments without notice. Labor unions in two subsidiaries were threatening walkouts over delayed hazard pay. A key logistics partner had

Marcelline sat in the backseat alone, struggling to keep her mind from spiraling. The leather seats felt suffocating despite the air conditioning humming steadily. She pressed her forehead against the cool window, watching the city blur past, neon signs, pedestrians, the endless stream of traffic that never seemed to sleep.Her stomach grumbled, loud enough that she glanced toward the driver's seat, embarrassed even though Patrick couldn't have heard it over the engine. She realized she hadn't eaten since that morning, just black coffee she barely touched while making calls.Just then, she saw a restaurant. Nothing fancy, just one of those family-owned places with warm lighting spilling onto the sidewalk and a hand-painted sign that read “Mama's Kitchen.”“Stop,” she told Patrick, her voice sharper than intended.He glanced at her in the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised. “Ma'am?”“Stop the car. Here. I need..” She exhaled.“I need to eat something.”Patrick pulled into a spot along the

Selene hadn't been back to her mansion in weeks.The moment she stepped through the door, the silence hit her like a wall. Heavy. Oppressive. The kind of quiet that came from a house abandoned by its owner, left to gather dust and memories.She stood in the foyer for a long moment, looking around.Everything was exactly as she'd left it. The marble floors gleaming under the chandelier. The pristine white furniture. The abstract art on the walls that cost more than most people's cars.Cold.Beautiful.Empty.Just like her.Leon stepped in behind her, closing the door softly.“You okay?” he asked.She didn't answer. How could she be okay with everything going on? She just walked further into the house, heels clicking against the marble, echoing through the empty space.She wasn't going to run anymore.That's what she'd told herself in the hotel room after hanging up with him. After agreeing to be his. After selling herself to survive.No more hiding.If Kenneth Dunlap wanted to destroy

Damian Holt had failed Rowan Adair once.He would not fail him again.He stood in the shadows outside Rowan's office now, perfectly still, perfectly silent. A ghost in expensive black clothing. His hands were loose at his sides, relaxed but ready. His breathing was controlled, measured, barely audible.Most people didn't even know he was there.That's how he preferred it.Damian didn't speak unless spoken to. Didn't move unless ordered. Didn't exist unless Rowan needed him to.He was the shadow. The executioner. The hand that did the work others couldn't stomach.And he was very, very good at his job.Except for that one time.That one time he'd let Leon slip through his fingers.He'd let Leon betray his boss by not being in there.In the penthouse.He didn't see it coming.No one did.But, he should have. The memory burned like acid in his chest.It was the only mistake he'd ever made in ten years of service to Rowan Adair.And it haunted him every single day.So when Rowan's phone