All Chapters of Whispers of Loyalty: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

ALANAI smelled the fire before I saw the smoke. Acrid and thick, it clung to the air like guilt.Even before Gia told me what Zach had done, I knew. I felt it in my bones, in the silence of his return, in the way he wouldn't look at me as he passed through the estate, the smoke still clinging to his jacket like an omen.Marcella was gone. Burned. Erased. And Zach had done it with his own hands.I didn’t ask him why. I didn’t need to. There were no more whys between us. Only when’s. Only what next.We'd passed the point of reason. We were moving on instinct now. And that terrified me more than any gun or rival ever could. Because instinct was primal.And love? Love was supposed to be civilized.I waited until after midnight to find him.He was in his old room, one he hadn’t slept in for weeks. Not since he started sleeping beside me every night like it was the only way to breathe. But tonight, he was alone again.The door creaked as I stepped inside.He was sitting at the edge of the

ALANAI felt his eyes on me before I saw him. The kind of stare that didn’t come with sound. The kind you didn’t see so much as sense—like a shift in pressure, like gravity pulling tighter around your throat.Zach was watching me. He thought I didn’t know. But I did. Every move I made, every word I didn’t say - he was cataloging it, analyzing it, as if love had become a puzzle he no longer trusted himself to solve. And maybe he was right not to.Because I was lying. Not with malice. Not to betray him. But because some truths were sharp enough to slice even the strongest bond clean in two. And I didn’t know if we’d survive the blood loss.I caught Gia watching me too. She didn’t say anything at first, just stood by the window with her arms crossed, her gaze flicking between the driveway and me.We were waiting on a drop. Weapons. Ammunition. Intel. I was pretending to check the delivery list. She was pretending not to care that I was pretending.Finally, she said, “He knows.”I didn’t

ALANAThe silence between us had changed.It wasn’t the kind you slip into after an argument, or the kind that follows exhaustion, when bodies fall into each other and words seem unnecessary.No. This was the kind of silence that scraped. Like a dull knife drawn too slowly over skin.It clung to the corners of every room we entered, every meal we skipped, every look we didn’t hold long enough. Zach and I were still tethered but the rope was fraying, the knots loosening, and I could feel every thread threatening to snap.He didn’t ask what I’d done. But he knew. And I didn’t confess. Because I wasn’t ready to be forgiven for something I didn’t regret.Gia was waiting when I stepped into the garden courtyard. She always waited for me here now, like she didn’t trust me to come back alone. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she shouldn’t.“You look like hell,” she muttered, handing me a coffee.I took it with shaking hands. “Thanks.”“You sleep?”“No.”She nodded. “Me neither.”We sat on the cold be

ALANA“I think maybe you already have.”His words didn’t feel like a slap. They felt like a bullet. Not the kind that rips through flesh. The kind that sinks into your heart and stays there… silent, buried, poisoning everything it touches.He didn’t slam the door when he left. He didn’t have to. The silence was louder.I didn’t cry right away. I just stood in the middle of the room, chest heaving, vision blurring, hands shaking. Because I knew he meant it.Zach didn’t throw words around like that. He wasn’t built for drama or guilt games. If he said it, he believed it. And that was the part that shattered me. He believed I’d already lost him.I sank to the floor. The cold wood met my knees like punishment. I let it. The pain was sharp, real. A distraction from the storm behind my ribs.All I’d wanted was to protect him. To stop the spiral before it became irreversible. To control the few pieces, I still could. But I had underestimated one thing.Zach didn’t want to be protected. He wa

ALANAThe clock on the wall ticked too loudly. Each second felt like a countdown to something I couldn’t name but could feel in my bones.Zach stood at the far end of the war room, phone pressed to his ear, expression carved from stone. His voice was low, clipped, lethal.I knew that tone. It meant things were already in motion. It meant no one was coming out of this untouched.I hadn’t told him everything. Not yet. Not about the meeting I’d agreed to. Not about the message I’d sent in return. And definitely not about what I planned to do with the truth when it finally came for us. Because this war didn’t need two people willing to destroy everything. It needed someone still willing to bleed for what was left.Zach hung up the phone. His eyes found mine across the room. They were tired. Hard. Still burning. Still beautiful.“I need to know you’re with me,” he said.“I’ve always been with you.”“That’s not what I meant.”“I know.”He crossed to me, every step deliberate. When he reache