Semua Bab After Betrayal, I Married The Cursed Alpha King: Bab 51 - Bab 60

The leak didn’t arrive like an explosion. It arrived like poison—slow, silent, and already inside the bloodstream before anyone realized they were sick. Late that night, encrypted files began surfacing in places that mattered. Not public enough to be dismissed as scandal. Not private enough to be buried. Financial ledgers with missing years. Shell companies that looped back into themselves. Offshore accounts that didn’t belong to Selene—but traced unmistakably to her father. No accusations were made. No names were screamed. Just a single anonymous line attached to the files: If shadows can be suggested, they can also be illuminated. That was all. And it was enough. --- By morning, Selene’s family name was trembling. Board members grew cautious. Longtime partners suddenly “needed time.” Lawyers stopped answering calls with the same warmth. Whispers crept into rooms that had once welcomed them with smiles. Her father felt it immediately. The loss of control. The threat of

He slipped through a narrow service route Liam clearly knew too well, pressing himself against the concrete wall before lifting a finger to his lips.“Stay quiet,” he mouthed.Violetta nodded, though her heart was already slamming violently against her ribs.They moved like shadows, the hum of distant machinery masking their footsteps. The air here smelled different—metallic, stale, heavy with secrets. Liam stopped in front of an unmarked door and gently pushed it open just enough for them to slip inside. She didn't know if she was doing the right thing or not. And what if she saw or witnessed something horrible? What will she do after that? She couldn't even imagine to live her life without Draven now and then... Her mind stopped at this thought. The room was almost completely dark.Only one thing stood out.Another door—thick, reinforced—with a small square glass window at eye level.Liam stepped aside.Violetta swallowed hard and leaned forward.What she saw on the other side made

Violetta didn’t leave the room that day.Hours passed, measured only by the slow shift of light behind the curtains and the ache in her chest that refused to fade. Every time she closed her eyes, the gunshot echoed again—sharp, final, merciless. And behind it, Draven’s face. Not cruel. Not frantic.Certain.That was what frightened her the most.When night finally fell, she sat up on the bed, wrapping the blanket around herself like armor. The house was unusually quiet. No footsteps. No voices. Just the hum of distant traffic and the heavy presence of a man deliberately keeping his distance.She didn’t know whether to be grateful or hurt.Finally, hunger and restlessness pushed her out. She moved down the hallway slowly, as if the walls themselves might accuse her. The living room lights were dim. Draven sat on the couch, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, a glass of untouched whiskey in his hand.He looked up the moment she appeared.They froze—two people standing on opposite sides

The night swallowed her whole. Violetta didn’t remember how she got into the car—only that her hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t fit the key into the ignition at first. The city lights blurred as tears burned her eyes, every red signal stretching like a warning she kept ignoring.Blood.The gunshot.The way Draven hadn’t denied it.Her chest tightened painfully.“You live in darkness.”The words echoed back at her like a curse she had carved herself.By the time she reached her apartment, her legs barely held her. She had bought it a few months ago, and now, it felt like a safe haven for her. She locked the door, leaned her forehead against the wood, and slid down slowly until she was sitting on the cold floor. The silence inside the apartment was deafening—no soft music, no familiar scent of him, no warmth.She wrapped her arms around herself and finally broke.Her sobs came quietly at first, as if even now she was afraid of being heard. Every memory twisted cruelly—his caref

Morning came wrapped in fog.It clung to the hills, the lake, the narrow paths between cottages—soft enough to look harmless, thick enough to hide intent.Violetta woke before her alarm, heart already racing as if it had been running all night. Mira was still asleep, curled toward the wall, breathing evenly. For a moment, Violetta watched her, grounding herself in the ordinariness of the scene.You’re safe, she told herself. This is normal.But the unease hadn’t left.She showered quickly, dressed in a simple sweater and jeans, tied her hair back. When she checked her phone, there were no new messages. Draven hadn’t written again. Somehow, that hurt more than if he had.Breakfast was served near the lake. The fog thinned into pale ribbons, sunlight slowly cutting through. People laughed louder than necessary, as if trying to convince themselves this was a break from reality.Violetta sat with her sketchbook, absentmindedly drawing constellations over water patterns—stars drowning, lig