Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 71 - Chapitre 80

MAYA'S POVThe city clerk’s office smelled of disinfectant and quiet, bureaucratic misery. Fluorescent lights bleached the color from everything, from the scuffed linoleum floor to the hope in my chest. This wasn’t a chapel. It was a processing center. Liam stood beside me, wearing a simple grey suit that looked both foreign and painfully handsome on him. We didn’t touch. A foot of chilled air separated us, filled with everything we couldn’t say.James was on my other side, a stoic witness. He’d arranged it all—the license, this dismal two PM slot with a bored-looking deputy city clerk, the grim practicality of it. His presence was a comfort and a reminder: this was a strategic operation. My left hand felt alien, the new, simple gold band on my ring finger a cold, heavy circle. I’d put it on this morning in the empty bathroom, watching my reflection, trying to find a bride in the hollow-eyed woman staring back. I’d found a soldier instead.“They’ll start in a minute,” James murmured,

LIAM'S POVThe courthouse was a temple of dread built from cheap marble and fluorescent light. I guided Maya through the metal detectors, my hand a steady pressure on the small of her back. She was wearing a simple navy dress, the kind meant to convey competence and modesty. She looked like a librarian attending a funeral. Her face was pale, set in a calm mask I knew cost her every ounce of strength. The new rings on her finger caught the harsh light as she clutched her purse.Leo was with James, in a rented office space three blocks away, surrounded by new toys and a promise that this was just a boring grown-up meeting. The lie was a stone in my gut.Our lawyer, Aronson, met us at the entrance to the family court hallway. She was a compact woman with dark hair pulled into a severe knot and eyes that missed nothing. “They’re all here,” she said quietly, dispensing with greetings. “Daniel and his counsel, Volker, are in the conference room to the left. Clara Finch and her separate coun

LIAM'S POVWatching Maya on the stand had been a form of evisceration. I saw every flinch, every tremor, the moment the light in her eyes guttered under the force of Volker's brutality. She had been brave and truthful, and it had been used as rope to hang her. The words “chaotic, secretive, morally questionable” hung in the air like a verdict delivered early. My hands were fists under the table, nails biting into my palms. I wanted to stand up and scream at Volker, at Clara, at this entire farce of a proceeding. But that would only prove their point. The volatile lover. The unstable influence.Aronson stood. “The respondent calls Liam Thorne.”This was it. The last act. If Maya’s testimony had been the defense, mine had to be the counterattack. I had to be the unshakeable foundation she’d spoken of. I rose, my suit feeling like a costume. I passed Maya’s chair; her head was bowed, a single tear tracking through the powder on her cheek. I wanted to stop. To wipe it away. But I couldn’t

LIAM'S POVThe city at night was a river of light, and we were a speedboat cutting through it, running toward the one person I’d sworn to never see again. The tension in the car was a live wire. Maya sat coiled in the passenger seat, her earlier fury transformed into a razor-sharp focus. The fear for Leo was a shared, palpable energy that hummed between us, overriding the wreckage of our fight.Daniel’s new offices were in a sleek, modern tower in the financial district—a monument to the prize Clara had dangled. At this hour, the lobby was a vast, empty cavern of polished stone, guarded by a single night concierge. We gave Daniel’s name; he’d left word. The elevator ride to the 40th floor was a silent ascent into the heart of my own history. This was the world Clara had offered him, the gilded leash.The doors opened directly into a reception area. The plaque on the wall was fresh: THORNE CAPITAL. My own surname, used by him, felt like a violation.Daniel was waiting, pacing before a

CLARA'S POVThe call from Volker came just after dawn. I was already awake, dressed, standing at my study window. I had expected a report of the judge’s formal ruling in our favor. The silence that met my greeting told me everything before she spoke.“It’s been denied. The emergency petition. And your motion to intervene. Denied with prejudice.”Her voice was stripped of its usual polished confidence. It was flat, edged with a professional shame I had never heard there before.A cold, precise void opened inside my chest. “Explain.”“Thorne—Daniel Thorne—went to them last night. He had evidence. Recordings. Emails. He recanted his entire testimony, claimed coercion and fraud. He implicated Silver and me. Henderson was… apoplectic. She’s referring us to the bar.”I turned from the window. The first rays of sun were cutting across my perfectly ordered garden, highlighting each sculpted hedge, each deliberately placed stone. A world under complete control. Or so it had seemed.“What evide