Lahat ng Kabanata ng Betrayed By Her Ex; Wanted My His Brother : Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

Evelyn’s POVAfter spending one full week in the remote stone house, Zeke who had been sleeping on the couch was beginning to look less like a sophisticated financier and more like a weary clerk. Zeke was suffering even if he wouldn’t openly admit it or talk to me about it either. The couch was simply too small for his height and large frame, and the lack of proper sleep was starting to chip away at his ruthless composure. His dark eyes held permanent shadows and bags underneath them, and his usually precise movements were occasionally slow. I watched him every morning, wincing in guilt as he stretched out the taut muscles in his back, silently cursing the lack of options underneath his breath.There was nothing we could do about it because we promised to stay off the grid completely and I knew Zeke wasn’t going to risk it because of a bed. The relief I initially felt after securing the bedroom had long since morphed into acute, unbearable guilt. I was sleeping soundly every night,

CHAPTER 42Evelyn’s POVI woke up tangled in the sheets, wrapped in Zeke’s large arms and it felt like heaven on earth.The morning light, filtered through the thick pines outside the partly opened curtains on the window, cast long, intimate shadows across the room. My body ached in a good way, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had sex this good; it was the satisfying, profound ache of emotional and physical release. And if I were being honest, Damien was never this good to me.I lay nestled against Zeke’s chest, my head tucked beneath his chin. I’d been awake for a while but I didn’t want to move an inch in order not to wake him. I’ve never seen him sleep this late before, it was a testament to how uncomfortable the couch had been for him for over a week.The Playboy Hollywood actor turned ruthless corporate warlord was simply a man asleep—his breathing deep and even, his arm a heavy, protective weight across my hip. The formality of the separate spaces, the strict logic of our

Evelyn’s POVAll of a sudden, I didn’t feel safe anymore. Granted that we were in a safe house in the middle of nowhere and only four people knew the exact location, it still didn’t deter the negative feeling from creeping into my head fueled by the knowledge that Damien's panic was a ticking clock.“We need everyone present before we have a meeting,” Zeke announced. “Make yourself comfortable, Sophie. I need to change and then we will put Senator Hayes on and brief him on everything.”I followed Zeke inside and we had our shower as quickly as we could and as soon as we came out of the room, he immediately established an encrypted channel with Senator Roland Hayes. Sophie spent the next ten minutes explaining the new developments to the Senator. I took one look at his face to see that he hated what he was hearing. His initial motivation was purely political vindication, and now, he was being thrust into the center of a narcotics investigation, which was the only way he would gain what

Evelyn’s POVThe period following the data transmission was the most agonizing waiting game of my life. The evidence was out, the bloodhounds were unleashed, and the wheels were turning. All we had to do now was to wait like Zeke had said. We still suspected that Gordon and Damien might give it one last shot at killing us so we were waiting for the extraction protocol to initiate—a sterile phrase for being plucked from a remote stone and placed under maximum protection until this whole thing died down. “I just got off the phone, we’ll be here for the next couple of days,” Zeke said. And for the first time in weeks, the tension wasn't purely strategic; it was deeply, violently personal. The rules were gone. The couch was empty. I woke up every morning in Zeke’s arms, feeling a dangerous, addictive kind of peace that I knew was built on the most volatile foundation imaginable but I didn’t want to alter my new routine for anything. A couple of days later, I was sitting by the fireplac

Evelyn’s POVThe shack we found ourselves in was nothing to write home about. It was a dilapidated hunting cabin deep in a couple of miles away from the house where we had been ambushed. Half the roof had caved in but it could still serve us until we were properly rescued. There was no fireplace, just a wood-burning stove, and the only "bed" was a moth-eaten mattress thrown onto a makeshift frame. The only thing that mattered right now was survival. After spending a couple of hours here, I was starting to get worried. Every passing second increased our chances of getting caught by the men sent to kill me. We left without taking our phones for fear of being tracked and we were here, waiting quietly for the extraction team that was yet to arrive, battling not just the fear of Damien’s cartel-backed assassins, but the sheer, raw exhaustion of running. The anxiety of the compromised secure channel was a constant, high-pitched ringing in my ears. Neither of us had uttered a single word i