All Chapters of His Runaway Queen: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

*Aria’s POV*The basement of the penthouse was a place where screams went to die. It was soundproofed, cold, and smelled of bleach and old copper.Lucian walked down the concrete stairs, his footsteps heavy in the silence. He had changed his shirt, but the blood on his hands felt permanent.I followed close behind, my injured arm throbbing with every step. I had insisted on coming. I needed to see the face of the man who had tried to bury us.Rylan was already down there. He stood by a heavy steel table where Silas was strapped down. The old man was awake now, the sedatives worn off. He looked terrible—battered, bruised, and pale, but his eyes were bright with a manic, hateful light."Ah," Silas rasped, his voice echoing in the small room. "The King and his Queen. Come to gloat?"Lucian didn't speak. He walked to the table and placed a heavy .45 caliber pistol on the metal surface, the metal clanging loudly."I'm not here to gloat," Lucian said. "I'm here for the name."Silas laughed,

*Aria’s POV*The blizzard outside was a wall of white, erasing the world. It isolated us, cutting the mountain off from the valley below. The wind screamed against the steel frame of the house, a constant, mournful howl that set my nerves on edge.Inside, the command center was the only room that felt finished. Banks of monitors glowed in the dim light, displaying the perimeter cameras — useless white static — and the internal feeds.Lucian sat in the center of the room, a glass of whiskey untouched on the console. He was staring at a single screen that displayed the live feed from the main gate."Do you think they'll come?" I asked, standing behind him."Not tonight," Lucian said. "The roads are buried. Even Zero Day can't drive through six feet of snow.""Then why are you watching?""Because I can't sleep."I walked over and placed my hand on his shoulder. He leaned into the touch, his muscles tight as coiled springs.Suddenly, the monitors flickered.It wasn't a glitch. It was a ta

*Aria’s POV*The nausea hit me like a tide — sudden, overwhelming, and crushing.I barely made it to the bathroom in the master suite. The cold tiles bit into my knees as I retched into the toilet. My shoulder, still healing from the bullet wound, throbbed in protest at the violent heaving of my muscles.It had been like this for three days.I gasped for air, wiping my mouth with a trembling hand."Aria?"Lucian was at the door instantly. I heard his footsteps, heavy and urgent. He knelt beside me, his hand cool against the back of my neck."Not again," he whispered."I'm fine," I rasped, though I wasn't. The room was spinning. My stomach felt like it was twisting into knots. "It’s just... something I ate.""You haven't eaten," Lucian said sharply. "You haven't kept anything down since Tuesday."He helped me to my feet, his grip tight as if he was afraid I would crumble. He guided me to the sink. I rinsed my mouth, looking at my reflection in the mirror.I looked terrible. Pale, dark

*Aria’s POV*The adrenaline from the bomb threat hadn't faded. It had merely calcified into a cold, hard knot in my chest.The panic room felt less like a sanctuary and more like a tomb. I sat on the edge of the cot, my hand resting protectively over my stomach. The baby. The new life that had arrived in the middle of a siege.Lucian hadn't left the command center. He was obsessed with the "V0id_Walker" lead Damian had uncovered. He needed to know who built the bomb vest. He needed to know who was on the screens."Aria?"Damian’s voice came through the intercom. He sounded strange. Strangled."I'm here, Damian.""Come to the command center. Lucian... Lucian needs you."I didn't like his tone. It wasn't the voice of a man who had found a clue. It was the voice of a man who had found a corpse.I unlocked the door and hurried down the hall.The command center was freezing. The servers were humming, but the mood was glacial.Lucian was standing motionless in front of the main monitor. He

*Aria’s POV*Five years.It was a long time to heal, and yet, a short time to forget.I stood on the terrace of the finished mountain house. The "fortress," the world called it. But to us, it was simply home. The plastic sheeting and exposed wiring were gone, replaced by warm timber, thick glass, and walls that had finally seen peace.The wind that used to howl through the frame now whispered through the pines, a gentle sound that no longer signaled danger."Daddy, look! The tower is tall enough now."I turned. Adrian was standing in the snow, pointing to a structure of blocks on the heated patio. He was ten years old now, tall for his age, with his father’s dark hair and piercing eyes. He wore a dark coat, his posture straight, his expression serious as he assessed his creation.Lucian stood beside him, hands in his pockets, nodding approvingly."Foundation needs to be wider if you want it to withstand the wind," Lucian said.Adrian frowned, analyzing the structure. "I reinforced the