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หน้าหลัก / Romance / The Heirmaker's Bride / บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

บททั้งหมดของ The Heirmaker's Bride: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

186

Chapter 11

“It is,” he said gravely. “I am a doctor.”“Yes, you are,” she agreed. “The best one I know.”That earned her a small, proud smile before he caught himself and cleared his throat, returning to business. He checked her pulse with two tiny fingers, counted under his breath, then nodded decisively.“You will live,” he said.Relief flooded her face in an exaggerated wave. “Thank goodness. I was worried.”He climbed onto the edge of the couch, close but not touching, still holding the stethoscope like it mattered. “You have to be careful,” he said quietly. “You work too much.”Her chest tightened at that, just for a second.“I know,” she said softly. “I’ll try.”Satisfied, he hopped down and began packing away his equipment with meticulous care. Sera watched him, this small, serious boy with dark hair and eyes far too observant for his age, moving around the room like he belonged there.Like he always had.She turned her face into the cushion, hiding the smile that curved her lips, the one
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Chapter 12

The elevator ride down was short and familiar.Nikolai stood straight beside Adrik, backpack secured, toy stethoscope peeking out of the side pocket like contraband. He watched the numbers tick down with the seriousness of a man heading into negotiations.“You’re quiet,” Adrik said, glancing at him. “That usually means you’re thinking something dangerous.”Nikolai frowned. “Golf is not dangerous.”Adrik smirked. “That depends on who you play with.”They stepped outside into the crisp air, the city still half asleep. Adrik opened the car door for him out of habit, and Nikolai climbed in without help, buckling himself carefully.“I am going to practice putting today,” Nikolai announced once they were moving. “You always miss from the left.”“That’s a lie,” Adrik said smoothly. “I miss from everywhere equally.”Nikolai considered that. “That is worse.”Adrik laughed, low and genuine, the sound filling the car. “You sound like your...” He stopped himself easily, like he always did. “..lik
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Chapter 13

The meeting took place in neutral territory.That alone said everything.A long table sat beneath a vaulted ceiling of stone and shadow, the air thick with smoke, resentment, and old grudges temporarily set aside. Men who had spent decades plotting each other’s deaths now sat shoulder to shoulder, united by a single, festering problem.Damian Blackwell.“He’s gone too far.”The voice belonged to Vittorio Romano, silver haired, immaculate, fingers heavy with rings that had sealed more deaths than treaties. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.“He crossed too far five years ago,” another man snapped. “We let it slide.”Aleksandr Morozov leaned back in his chair, scarred knuckles drumming against the table. “We understood at first,” he said coldly. “A wife. An unborn child. Blood demands blood.”“Grief,” scoffed Javier Cortez. “Fine. We all grieve. We don’t destabilize entire syndicates over it.”A murmur of agreement rippled through the room.Files lay open on the table. Photos
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Chapter 14

Another sob tore through him. He pressed his palm flat against the stone, as if touch alone could bridge death.“You were real,” he whispered fiercely. “You mattered. You were mine.”The wind carried his words away, offering no answer.Damian stayed there long after his strength gave out, kneeling in the dirt like a penitent king, grief pooling around him like blood he could never wash off.Above him, the sky remained indifferent.And beneath his rage, beneath the vows of destruction, one truth gnawed endlessly at his heart.No amount of revenge would ever bring her back.But until the last enemy fell, Damian Blackwell would keep tearing the world apart anyway.Because vengeance was all he had left to offer her.Lysandra found her father in his study, the windows open to the late afternoon sun, the scent of cigars and old leather heavy in the air.He didn’t look up when she entered.She stood there for a moment, fingers clenched in the silk of her dress, pulse racing. For the first ti
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Chapter 15

The gates opened without question.They always did for her.Lysandra sat up straighter as the car rolled through, clinging to the small, bitter comfort of that fact. Five years, and at least this much remained true.Inside the estate, tension pressed against her skin the moment she stepped out. Guards stood rigid, hands never straying far from their weapons. Conversations died mid sentence as she passed. Fear lived openly here now, no longer hidden behind polished marble and etiquette.Good, she thought grimly. Maybe fear would finally wake them all up.A steward hurried forward. “Mrs. Blackwell is in the west sitting room.”Lysandra didn’t correct him.She followed without a word.Damian’s mother looked up the moment Lysandra entered, her sharp gaze softening just enough to register familiarity.“My daughter in law,” she said, rising slowly. “You look upset. What’s troubling you?”The words loosened something tight in Lysandra’s chest.She crossed the room quickly. “I wouldn’t come l
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Chapter 16

The tires crunched against gravel as Damian’s car rolled to a stop.He didn’t look up at the house at first.He sat there, hands still on the steering wheel, chest raw and aching from the hours he’d spent kneeling in dirt that still smelled faintly of rain and regret. His eyes burned. His throat felt scraped hollow.Then he saw it.A familiar car parked where it didn’t belong.Lysandra’s.His jaw tightened instantly.“What the hell is she doing here,” he muttered, teeth grinding together.He had warned her. Clearly. Coldly. Repeatedly.Do not come here.Do not wait for me.Do not pretend this house is yours.Anger cut through the grief like a blade. Sharp. Focused. Welcome, almost. Rage was easier than the hollow ache clawing at his ribs.He stepped out of the car and slammed the door harder than necessary, the sound echoing across the estate. Guards stiffened but said nothing. No one ever stopped him anymore.As he walked toward the entrance, his mind betrayed him.Seraphina standing
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Chapter 17

Seraphina had been gentle. Soft. Afraid.Lysandra had been fierce. Capable. Willing to stand in fire.And still... Still he chose a ghost.Her knees gave out completely then, and she sank onto the cold stone steps, sobbing openly, dignity forgotten. Guards stationed nearby exchanged uneasy glances, their murmurs low and uncomfortable.“That’s her…”“She’s been here for years…”“He finally threw her out…”No one moved to help her.No one dared.Lysandra wiped at her face angrily, smearing mascara, fury bleeding into grief. This wasn’t over. It couldn’t be. She refused to believe that five years of loyalty meant nothing.She rose unsteadily, straightened her back with shaking hands, and walked away from the estate with tears still falling, humiliation burning deeper than rage.Inside the house, Damian did not look back.He went straight up the stairs, boots heavy, purposeful, like this was the only path he knew anymore. The guards watched him pass in silence. No one spoke. No one stoppe
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Chapter 18

Adrik held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded. “Alright.”He hesitated at the door. “Just… be careful. News like this has a way of stirring ghosts.”When the door closed behind him, the office felt too large.Too quiet.Sera remained standing long after he left, hands braced against the edge of her desk, breath shallow, heart restless in a way she refused to name.Five years.She told herself that number again, like it should mean something definitive.Five years since the fire.Five years since the ashes.Five years since she buried Seraphina Vale and became Dr. Sera Voss.And yet…She crossed the room slowly and stopped at the window.The city sprawled below her, orderly, alive, unaware of blood prices and vendettas. Snow dusted rooftops. Lights flickered on as evening crept in.Her reflection stared back at her in the glass. Calm. Composed. Untouchable.A lie.Her fingers curled against the window ledge.Regardless of what Damian had done.Regardless of how he had broken her.
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Chapter 19

The door gave way with a violent crack.Men flooded the room like a black tide, boots pounding, guns raised, faces masked by rage and greed and the promise of a payout too large to ignore. Furniture was kicked aside, drawers ripped open, the bed overturned as if they were searching for something he might still care enough to protect.Damian didn’t move.Didn’t reach for the gun tucked uselessly at his side.Didn’t look surprised.His men burst in behind them seconds later, loyal to the end. Shouts filled the room. Orders. Curses. Names barked into chaos.Gunfire exploded.The air turned thick with smoke and echoes. Damian’s guards fought like men who knew this was the last stand, bodies dropping one by one between him and the intruders.“Get him out!” someone yelled.Too late.Too many.Damian stayed seated on the floor, back against the door, eyes lifted calmly toward the ceiling as if he could already see past it.Another burst of gunfire tore through the room.Then they turned thei
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Chapter 20

A sound caught in her throat, sharp and unwelcome.For the first time in years, her eyes burned.“I’ve lost him,” she thought, the realization striking like a blade. My son is dying in front of me.She reached out, just barely touching the edge of the stretcher as the medics lifted it into the ambulance.“Severe blood loss,” one paramedic called out. “He’s in hypovolemic shock.”“We need trauma surgery immediately.”“ETA to hospital?”“Seven minutes if traffic cooperates.”Seven minutes.Her nails dug into her palm.She had ruled men who begged for mercy. Ordered deaths without blinking. Built an empire on precision and fear.But standing there, watching her son being loaded into an ambulance like any other broken body, she felt something dangerously close to helplessness.Tears pooled in her eyes.She did not let them fall.The doors slammed shut.The ambulance pulled away, sirens wailing into the night, carrying Damian between life and death.Lysandra sank to her knees on the drivew
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