บททั้งหมดของ The Tyrant's Bride Vow: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

Damian stood silently in front of the psychiatrist’s office. His hands were clenched, his knuckles white. When the door opened, the doctor came out with a professional but cautious expression—as if any wrong word could cause Damian to tear him apart.“Mr. Cassel... I have reviewed your wife’s psychological condition.”The doctor’s voice trembled slightly.Damian listened without changing his expression. But the tension in his jaw was obvious.The doctor handed him a thick file containing the results of the examination.Mrs. Cassel has PTSD as a result of the accident. Traumatic flashbacks, panic attacks, and irrational fears related to vehicles and certain situations... are likely to occur for some time to come.”Damian clenched his jaw.“How bad?”His voice was cold... but cracked at the end.“Currently, the severity is at the upper threshold, sir. Trauma like this can leave a lasting mark if not treated.”Damian closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his dark eye

Heavy rain fell that night, drenching the city and making the streetlights look like dull flashes that pulsed wearily.In an old warehouse near the harbour, a man in a black suit stood smoking, accompanied by three well-built men armed to the teeth.An older man emerged from inside the warehouse. His hair was white, but his eyes were as sharp as a predator’s.Lysander Holt, the king of the international underground narcotics trade—a man who had been an ally of the Vendrake family for decades. On the day the Cassel Group brought down Vendrake, Lysander Holt was there to save Vendrake from ruin. Clarisse entered the room, her face pale but burning with determination.“Mr. Holt,” she said, her voice low and tense.The man narrowed his eyes, observing Clarisse from head to toe.“The adopted daughter of the Vendrake family,” he said. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’ve caused quite a mess.”“Too many people want to bring me down,” Clarisse replied coldly. “I need allies.”Lysander chuckl

The first snow fell earlier than expected this year.Outside the windows of Cassel Mansion, soft white flakes began to cover the walkway and the tops of the pine trees lining the main gate. The north wind brought a bone-chilling cold, making the entire estate seem frozen in the evening mist.Winter always made this place look peaceful.But that peace was only skin deep.Inside, a new storm was brewing—and that night, it began to show its face.The servants in the house were busy preparing for winter. Especially since the young Mrs Cassel had returned and needed intensive care. Lunch was quiet. Only Damian and Enola sat at the long table. Last time, several chairs were still occupied by other family members, but now the situation had changed significantly. The mansion felt quieter, but it was a more soothing silence.“Has Adrian ever returned here since the day of the shooting?” Enola was just curious. “The servant said, never. Adrian has several properties outside, including apartme

Winter was at its peak. The city was wrapped in a thick white blanket, covering the truth while reflecting lies. Snow piled up on the roofs of buildings, hung from the edges of windows, and buried the streets in a cold that made breath create long wisps of fog.But last night’s tragedy at the casino opened a new crack.That crack is bloody.The police are conducting an intensive investigation and focusing their attention on this case. The casino has been temporarily closed and sealed off by the police for further investigation. **South Police Station – 8:12 a.m.Lieutenant Myles stood in the middle of the briefing room, staring at photos of the crime scene displayed on the screen. The room was filled with the aroma of bitter coffee and tension.“The shooting at Holt’s casino... the more we dig, the more stench emerges,” he said, rubbing his face.“The stench of drugs, you mean?” asked one of the detectives.Lieutenant Myles nodded heavily.“We found large traces of fentanyl residue

Winter rolled over Spark Valley with a white blanket that grew thicker day by day. The morning fog descended like the breath of a ghost, hanging low over the vineyards that now lay dormant in the frost. The main building of Spark Winery stood tall—more imposing than ever—as if it too had plunged into a new chapter that was colder, more honest, and more cruel.Today, the door to the past is officially locked.And the door to the future has just been opened by Enola Spark.Camera flashes bounce off the glass of the building as Damian’s black car pulls up in front of the main entrance. Enola steps out slowly; her body still looks frail after a long course of therapy, but the look in her eyes—God—even a storm would make way.The cold wind blew her black hair, making the woman look like a figure in a classic painting rising from the ashes.Damian walked behind her, guarding—always guarding—watching every movement of the media trying to get closer. His hand occasionally touched Enola’s back