Lahat ng Kabanata ng Under The Devil's Eyes : Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

MIKHAIL’S POVAfter we finish, we lie still in silence next to each other before I stand up and head into the bathroom, grab a bowl of water and a washcloth, and head back into the bedroom to clean her up.Slowly and reverently, I glide the warm cloth over her skin, erasing the remnants of us both. She’s still trembling slightly, body soft and pliant, eyes half-lidded in the low light. I wipe in between her thighs, her stomach, the gentle curve between her breasts, causing her to sigh slighty but she avoids my gaze…like she’s ashamed of herself. The thought causes a slight pang in my chest, but I say nothing.When I finish, I set the bowl aside, pull the sheets away, and slide back into the bed, lying on her side so I can see her face.She turns away immediately, turning her back to me and clutching the duvet tighter. She curls into herself on the far edge of the bed when I touch her slightly. The rejection lands like a quiet blow, but I don’t push.After a long, unbearable silence, I

‎Mikhail's POV‎We leave the fairgrounds faster than I planned.‎The fireworks are still popping overhead when Aleksei’s call comes through—short, clipped, furious.‎“She’s gone.”‎Two words.‎That’s all it takes to turn the night from magic back to ash.‎I hang up without a word.‎Nora’s hand is still in mine, cotton candy sugar sticking to her fingers, stuffed panda tucked under her arm. She’s laughing at something I said thirty seconds ago, cheeks flushed from the cold air and the adrenaline of bumper cars. The sound dies when she sees my face.‎“Mikhail?”‎I don’t answer.‎I just pull her toward the parking lot, stride long, grip tight.‎She stumbles to keep up.‎“What’s wrong?”‎I don’t answer that either.‎The Maybach is waiting where we left it. Dmitri is already behind the wheel, engine running. He knows. They all know. The second Aleksei called, every man in my network snapped to attention.‎I open the passenger door for Nora.‎“Get in.”‎She hesitates.‎“Mikhail—”‎“Now.”‎S

‎Nora's POV‎‎I wake up to a pounding headache, the kind that throbs behind my eyes like a drumbeat I can’t escape. The room swims into focus slowly—the massive king-sized bed with its black sheets, the high ceilings, the balcony doors letting in slivers of morning light. My body feels heavy, like I’ve been running a marathon in my sleep, and as I shift, the memories flood back: the confrontation at the hospital, Elena’s tears, Caleb’s face when Mikhail revealed the truth about him being Lucien’s son, the way everything shattered in that moment. I remember backing away from Caleb, the betrayal hitting me like a physical blow, and then the world tilting, darkness swallowing me whole.‎I sit up slowly, propping myself on my elbows, and that’s when I see him—Elias, sitting in the chair beside the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He looks dejected, defeated, like the weight of the world has crushed him. His hair is messy, eyes red-rimmed from crying or lack of sleep or both. H

‎Nora’s POV ‎I don’t sleep. ‎Not really. ‎I lie there beside Elias in the dark, eyes open, staring at the ceiling as shadows stretch and shift across it. Every creak of the house sounds like footsteps. Every passing car feels like a countdown. ‎Morning comes too fast. ‎Or maybe it never left. ‎By the time the first light bleeds through the curtains, I’ve already made up my mind. ‎I slip out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Elias. He needs the rest. One of us should have a clear head when we run. ‎I head to the bathroom. ‎Lock the door. ‎And stare at myself in the mirror. ‎I look… the same. ‎That’s the strange part. ‎Same face. Same eyes. Same girl. ‎But everything inside me feels rearranged. Like someone reached in and shifted all the pieces without asking. ‎I turn on the tap, splash water on my face, grip the sink. ‎Breathe. ‎Then the nausea hits. ‎Sudden. ‎Violent. ‎I barely make it to the toilet before I’m on my knees, retching until my throa

‎Nora’s POV,‎Unknown Location...‎Pain wakes me.‎Slow.‎Thick.‎Like I’m swimming up through tar.‎My head pounds.‎My mouth is dry.‎My limbs—‎Heavy.‎Too heavy.‎I try to move.‎Metal clinks.‎My eyes snap open.‎Darkness.‎Not complete.‎Dim light flickers from somewhere above—yellow, weak, unstable.‎I blink.‎Force my vision to focus.‎Concrete walls.‎Bare.‎Cold.‎A single bulb swinging slightly from the ceiling.‎I’m sitting on a chair.‎No, strapped to it.‎Wrists bound behind me.‎Ankles tied.‎Rope.‎Tight enough to burn.‎Panic surges instantly.‎Sharp.‎Violent.‎I jerk against the restraints.‎Useless.‎“Easy.”‎The voice comes from the shadows.‎Male.‎Calm.‎Familiar in the worst way.‎My heart stutters.‎“No…” I whisper.‎A figure steps forward.‎And the world tilts.‎“Hello, Nora.”‎Lucien.‎He looks… composed.‎Untouched.‎Like he didn’t just rip me out of my life and drag me into a nightmare.‎My chest heaves.‎“You—”‎“So many questions in those eyes,” he says