All Chapters of Whispers of Loyalty: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

ALANAHis name echoed long after I whispered it.Silas Veronin.I hadn’t meant to say it aloud. Not to him. Not yet. But something in Zach's eyes, something bruised and burning and on the edge, made me do it.He needed to hear it. To know there were still truths buried beneath everything we thought we’d already uncovered. And that some of those truths had teeth.The moment the name left my mouth, I saw the shift in him. A crack in that cold control he’d been wearing like armor. Like he knew that name better than his own. Like the sound of it reopened a wound he’d spent years pretending had scarred over.And maybe it had. But scars lie. They whisper, I’m healed, even while the skin underneath still bleeds.Back at the estate, I didn’t speak to anyone. I didn’t need a team on this. Didn’t want eyes I couldn’t trust watching my next move.I went into my father’s archives, dug out every black book, ledger, coded file, and encrypted thumb drive that I’d previously dismissed. Because if Sil

ALANAIt was different this time.The weight on Zach’s shoulders wasn’t the usual heaviness of command or paranoia. This wasn’t the tension of war plans or blood spilled in silence. This was something older, deeper. A storm he’d buried under scar tissue.His brother wasn’t a ghost anymore. He was a shadow with a pulse. And we were walking straight into him.We drove in silence.Zach’s jaw clenched, one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the grip of his gun. His fingers tapped once, twice, then stilled, like he was trying to quiet his own heartbeat.I didn’t interrupt him. There was nothing to say that could soften this. Nothing that would undo the fracture forming beneath his skin.He wasn’t just preparing for a confrontation. He was bracing for betrayal to come in the shape of someone he once loved. And I could feel it, like smoke leaking into a sealed room. It was going to suffocate him if he didn’t get ahead of it.If we didn’t.We arrived at the old opera house just after d

ALANAThe blood on his boots didn’t belong to Zach. But it might as well have. Because the man who walked through the doors that night wasn’t the same one who held me days ago, trembling under moonlight, trying to outrun the shadows of his past.That man, the one who kissed me like I was his last salvation, he was gone.And what remained? Was someone terrifyingly familiar.The kind of man my father used to become before a war.He said nothing when he entered the room.Just kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot and looked at me like I was both the anchor and the tide.“You killed him,” I said softly.Zach didn’t answer. Just stripped off his jacket, dropped it to the floor, and poured a glass of water from the decanter on the table.Not whiskey. Not vodka. Water. Like he was trying to wash the fire out from the inside.“He was a traitor,” he finally said. “He gave Silas the intel.”“I know.”His eyes lifted to mine, unreadable. “Then don’t ask me to feel sorry about it.”“I wa

ALANAI knew the moment I opened the file that I would never sleep again.Marcella wasn’t a pawn. She wasn’t some leftover lieutenant clinging to a fallen house.She was strategic. Trained. And she was in love with Silas Veronin.Which made her twice as dangerous because she wasn’t just playing to win. She was playing for vengeance.The sun hadn’t risen yet, but I hadn’t closed my eyes. Zach lay asleep beside me, chest rising and falling in a rhythm that betrayed just how exhausted he was. I didn’t blame him. He’d bled more in the last week than most men did in a lifetime.But this?This was different. This wasn’t about bullets or bombs. This was about pressure points. Weaknesses. Timing. This was about undoing us without ever firing a shot.I slipped out of bed and padded barefoot into the hallway, robe tight around my waist, the report clutched in one hand. Gia was awake already. She never really slept either, not since this war started.She was in the control room, reviewing bluepr

ALANAI didn’t flinch when Gia told me Zach had pulled the trigger. I didn’t ask for the details. Didn’t ask if she cried. If she begged. If it was fast or drawn out. Because that would mean I was mourning Carmela. And I couldn’t afford to mourn someone who chose betrayal over blood. But that didn’t mean I didn’t feel it.The war room still smelled like smoke.Her blood had already been cleaned off the floor. Her name erased from the roster. Her face scrubbed from security feeds. But my body still remembered her - her voice, her advice, her laughter at midnight when the world felt like it was ending.She was family. And now she was a warning.Zach hadn’t said a word about it since. Not to me. Not to anyone. He buried her with silence. And that scared me more than anything.I found him in the training ring the next morning.Sweat slicked his back, his fists wrapped, shirtless and seething, slamming into the punching bag like it had wronged him personally.He didn’t stop when he saw me.