Moaning For The Enemy: Her Sister's Betrothed Alpha のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 171 - チャプター 180

DARIUS’S POVThe rearview mirror reflected the end of my life. A towering pillar of orange and black smoke choked the Manhattan skyline, a violent, ugly bruise against the clouds.My father’s throne, the mahogany desk where he’d signed away souls, the glass walls I’d spent my youth trying to climb… driving into that place he just wanted all of it was ash.I didn't feel the grief I expected. I felt a strange, cold lightness, as if the chains had finally snapped and left me drifting in the void.Beside me, Iris was a statue of emerald silk and frozen rage. She didn't look back at the explosion. She didn't even blink. She just stared at the silver key in her palm as if she could force it to tell her where her mother was hiding. The car smelled like the rain on her skin and the faint, bitter scent of the smoke that had followed us from the lobby.I thought she was dead, Iris said. Her voice was so quiet it was almost lost to the hum of the tires on the wet pavement. My father told me s

Iris The house groaned, a sound of ancient timber and stone protesting against a force that had been dormant for a century. The hatch in the floor didn't just stay closed; it began to bleed light. Intricate, geometric patterns I hadn't noticed before, etched deep into the dark wood of the foyer, began to glow with a fierce, amber hue. It was the same color as my mother’s eyes, but where hers were cold, this light was scorching."What is this?" Silas demanded, his voice cracking. The mask of the mathematician slipped, revealing the panicked old man underneath. "I have the codes! I have the lineage keys!"I felt the power of the silver key vibrating in my palm, a steady thump-thump that felt like a second heart. I looked Silas dead in his grey, panicked eyes."You have the Wolfe keys, Silas," I said, the sarcasm returning in a sharp rush of adrenaline. "But you forgot the most basic rule of an audit. You have to check the jurisdiction. This is the Calder estate. And in this house, the

DARIUS’S POVThe morning air in Vermont was a very cold, unusual grey. Behind us, the ancestral home of the Calders was nothing but a blackened skeleton, the last of the amber light flickering out like a dying star. The silence that followed the collapse was absolute, broken only by the rhythmic pinging of the SUV’s cooling engine.I stood by the open car door, my hand still resting on the roof, watching the smoke curl into the mist. My father was gone. My legacy was a pile of scorched timber and ancient lies. I should have felt lighter, but the sight of that black feather on the leather seat made my pulse kick into a low, jagged thrum.Ivy.She wasn't a ghost, and she wasn't a victim. She was the one variable I hadn't accounted for—the shadow twin who had watched us burn down the house so she could sift through the ashes for the gold.I turned to Iris. She was sitting in the passenger seat, her head leaned back against the headrest, her eyes closed. The emerald silk of her dress was

DARIUS’S POVThe humidity hit me like a physical wall the moment the cabin door opened. The scent of salt, rotting hibiscus, and expensive jet fuel filled my lungs as I stepped onto the tarmac of the private strip. This island was a speck of volcanic rock and white sand that had been owned by the Wolfe family since the sixties. It was a fortress disguised as a resort, a place where my father used to send the Board members who needed to be reminded of their place.I reached back and took Iris’s hand as she stepped onto the stairs. She was still wearing the emerald dress, though she’d thrown one of my spare shirts over her shoulders to cut the chill of the flight. She looked exhausted, her eyes rimmed with red, but the way she held her head told me she was already calculating the security risks. She didn't look for a welcoming committee. She looked for the cameras."Welcome to Milestone One," I muttered as we walked toward the black SUV waiting at the edge of the runway.Miller was alre

The words felt like shards of broken glass caught in my throat, scratching against my skin as I tried to force them out into the cold, dead air. I stood at the threshold of the server room, my fingers trembling as I watched the heavy steel door swing slowly on its hinges with a low, metallic groan that seemed to echo forever. The air down here was frigid, chilled to the bone by massive cooling units to protect the rows of tall black towers that housed every single dark secret the Wolfe family had ever kept, but the scent in the room wasn't just the smell of cold machinery anymore. It was the sharp, unmistakable tang of ozone from the electronics mixed with the hot, thick smell of fresh blood, and it made my stomach turn in a way I couldn't control. My hand was squeezed so tight around the silver bracelets I had snatched from the table upstairs that the metal was biting into my palm, and even though they were light, the heavy sensor blocks on the ends gave them a weight that made me fe