บททั้งหมดของ THE BIDDING ROOM: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

Silence followed, but not the kind that meant safety.It was the waiting kind. Lucien felt it in the way the house held its breath, in the subtle delay before systems responded, in the tension humming beneath the marble floors. The enemy had withdrawn, yes, but predators didn’t flee unless they were circling.He guided Evelyn away from the console, his hand firm at her back. She leaned into the touch without thinking, her body finally acknowledging the toll. The power she’d unleashed still crackled beneath her skin, a low burn that hadn’t decided whether it would consume her or sustain her.“We need air,” he said quietly. “And distance.”Matteo was already moving, barking orders into his comm, blood drying dark on his sleeve. “The south corridor is clear. For now.”Lucien nodded. “For now is enough.”They moved fast, not running, but purposeful. The vault sealed behind them with a finality that felt like a promise and a threat all at once. As they ascended, Evelyn’s thoughts began to

Lucien didn’t remove his hand from her shoulder right away.The contact was subtle, meant to steady, meant to reassure — but it did something else entirely. Evelyn felt it travel through her, grounding and igniting all at once. The house seemed to recognize the shift too, systems recalibrating as if responding to an unspoken command.“Come with me,” Lucien said quietly.They didn’t go deeper into the estate. They moved upward, into a part of the house that wasn’t designed for war rooms or strategy — wide windows, high ceilings, spaces meant to remind a man why he was fighting at all. A place Lucien rarely used.The door closed behind them. This time, no alarms interrupted.Lucien turned to her, the edge of command softened but not gone. “What happened in that corridor shouldn’t have been possible.”Evelyn crossed her arms, more for control than comfort. “Yet it was.”“You felt him before you saw him,” Lucien said. “Didn’t you?”“Yes.” She hesitated. “And that’s what scares me.”Lucien

LucienElena’s heels faded down the corridor, but the echo of her presence stayed behind like a pressure change in the air. Lucien felt it settle into his bones, the old reflexes stirring — anticipation, calculation, the instinct to close ranks and burn bridges before they could be crossed.He forced himself to breathe.Evelyn was still there. That mattered.He turned to her, measuring the damage Elena had intended to leave behind. He saw tension, yes, but not doubt. That surprised him. It shouldn’t have. Evelyn had been forged by uncertainty; doubt didn’t scare her. Manipulation did.“She came to unsettle you,” he said, not as explanation but acknowledgment.Evelyn’s eyes searched his face. “She came to reclaim you.”Lucien nodded once. “She believes possession is permanent if it was ever mutual.”“And was it?” Evelyn asked quietly.The question cut cleanly. Lucien didn’t deflect. “Once,” he said. “We were sharp together. Efficient. We mistook that for intimacy.”He watched the truth

The first alarm didn’t sound like danger. It sounded like music. A low, resonant chime rolled through the estate — subtle enough that an untrained ear might mistake it for ambiance. Lucien froze mid-step. His hand lifted instinctively, palm out, a silent command to everyone within range. That chime meant one thing. An internal breach. Someone already inside.Lucien turned sharply toward Evelyn. She was standing near the terrace doors, fingers resting on the glass, her reflection fractured by the storm clouds gathering outside. She looked calm. Too calm.“Come here,” he said, already moving.She didn’t hesitate. She walked straight into him, and he caught her not roughly, but decisively — his arm locking around her waist as he pulled her into the hidden corridor behind the stone paneling. The wall slid shut behind them with a whisper, sealing them into darkness lit only by faint red emergency strips.The safe room. It was a small room with narrow walls. It was designed for survival, no

The first thing Evelyn understood was that this place had no windows. The second was that it didn’t need them. Light came from recessed panels in the ceiling —cold, deliberate, designed to reveal rather than comfort. The room was large, empty except for a single chair bolted to the floor and a mirrored wall that wasn’t meant for vanity. It was meant for inspection. She sat straight up, with her back to the wall, hands folded in her lap, refusing to give them the satisfaction of fear. Whatever drug they had used on her was fading now, leaving behind only a dull ache and a razor-sharp clarity. Hiroto Sakamura entered without announcement. He had changed since she had last seen him. No longer the polished observer. Now he wore the calm of a man about to profit. “You adapt quickly,” he said, circling her. “That’s rare.” Evelyn followed him with her eyes but didn’t turn her head. “You won’t get what you think you will.” Sakamura smiled. “I already have.” He gestured toward the mi