All Chapters of Shadows of Silk & Steel: A Billionaire's Secret, A Bodyguar: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The red folder was a live coal against Sabe’s ribs. They found another temporary refuge—the unlocked storage room of a lakeside sailing club, smelling of damp ropes and mildew. The dawn light, weak and grey, seeped through a high, filthy window, providing just enough illumination.Sabe laid the folder on a stained workbench. The single, damning page with its embossed emblem and Evelyn’s signature stared up at them. But Anton’s mind, ignited by the cold fury of seeing his own death warrant, was working on a different frequency. The page was a masterpiece of arrogance, but it felt… terminal. A conclusion. The Meridian moved in layers, in contingencies. Would they really leave only this?He picked up the folder again, feeling its weight. Too heavy for one sheet of paper. He ran his fingers along the interior seam. The cardstock was thick, high-quality. He pressed along the edge, near the spine.A slight give.He took Sabe’s knife and, with careful precision, slit the inner lining of the

The wait in the dark boat was an agony of silence and imagined terrors. Every lapping wave against the hull was a footstep, every distant light on the shore a searching beam. Anton’s world had narrowed to the cold plastic seat, the faint green glow of the boat’s console, and the impenetrable black bulk of the Villa Etoile. He held the small, powerful spotlight ready, his thumb resting on the switch, his eyes aching from staring.Then, a pinprick of emerald light, sharp and clear, blinked once from a second-floor window overlooking the lake. Green flash. I have him, proceeding.Relief, sharp and dizzying, flooded Anton. But it was followed immediately by a tighter, more anxious coil of tension. The hard part was just beginning for Sabe.He forced himself to breathe, to count the seconds, to not imagine what was happening in that well-lit room. He was the overwatch. His job was to be still, to be ready, to be the unseen tether.The encrypted burner phone Leora had given him vibrated in

The hours until the vault heist stretched, taut and thin. The makeshift training had left Anton’s body buzzing with a strange, painful awareness, but his mind churned in a holding pattern. They had a terrifying goal, a hostage brother, and a knife-edge of a plan. But the evidence they held—the termination invoice, the coerced memorandum—felt like arrows aimed at a ghost. They proved intent, but not the full scope. They needed the monster’s heartbeat, not just its shadow.Marcus, now gagged and secured in the reeds with a promise of water and a bleak future, was a source of sullen silence. Sabe was meticulously checking and rechecking the few tools they had: the knife, a slim lockpick set, the flashlight, the two USB drives—one for Leora’s broadcast, one empty, meant for the kill-code they didn't yet have.Anton sat on a mossy log, the encrypted burner phone in his hands. He was scrolling back through the messages from the number that was now forever silent: Rico Nadir. The terse, cyni

They didn't run. Running was for prey, and the line between predator and prey had just been irrevocably blurred. They walked, at a deliberate, steady pace through the backstreets of the industrial district, putting distance between themselves and the warehouse of groans and spilled blood. The city around them was lighting up for the evening, a world of oblivious diners and strolling couples, a galaxy away from the brutal calculus of the last ten minutes.Anton’s body moved on autopilot, guided by Sabe’s subtle touches—a hand on his elbow to steer him around a corner, a slight pressure to slow his pace. Inside, he was a shattered pane of glass, held together only by the film of shock. The world had a strange, hyper-real quality: the gritty texture of the brick wall he brushed against felt like braille, the smell of frying food from a vent was nauseatingly potent, the sound of his own breathing was a roar in his ears.And beneath it all, a constant, looping replay. The wet crunch. The f

The air in the tiny apartment was thick with the unsaid, charged with the echo of Anton’s ultimatum. Sabe stood frozen, Anton’s hands still framing his face, the truth of his words a seismic shock to the foundations of his carefully constructed despair. The fear of future loss warred with the undeniable reality of the present love being offered, here, now, without conditions.He didn't kiss him. But he didn't pull away. He leaned his forehead against Anton’s, closing his eyes, a shudder running through him. It was a surrender of a different kind—not to passion, but to the terrifying possibility of hope.“I’m sorry,” Sabe breathed, the words a confession. “I’m so… damn… scared.”“I know,” Anton whispered, his thumbs stroking his temples. “So am I. We’ll be scared together. That’s the deal.”They stood like that for a long moment, drawing strength from the simple contact, the shared breath. The precipice was still there, but they were standing on it side-by-side.The fragile peace was s