Lahat ng Kabanata ng Built from Ruins: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 36

The Weight of the Crown ​Jennifer’s POV ​The luncheon was held in a massive, open...air pavillion...a traditional Javanese pavilion supported by towering, intricately carved teak pillars that had probably stood for centuries and centuries. The roof vaulted high into the humid air, but underneath, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of roasted spices, expensive tobacco, and old, immovable power. ​Setyo Triatmodjo sat at the head of a long, solid mahogany table that could easily seat thirty people. He was a frail-looking man in his early eighties draped in a flawlessly tailored silk shirt, but his eyes were sharp as flint. Surrounding him were six of his top board executives—all older men, all holding themselves with the rigid, unyielding posture of traditionalists who viewed the corporate world as a blood sport. ​Lucas sat to Setyo’s right, and I was placed directly next to Lucas. The weight of his hand had left my lower back the moment we sat...but the ghost of that heat

The Afterglow of Malice​Jennifer’s POV​The storm broke the moment we crossed the threshold of the villa.​The tropical sky had turned the color of a bruised plum while we were on the mountain, and by the time the heavy timber doors of our pavilion shut behind us, the sky unburdened itself. Rain sheeted down in solid, deafening walls, obliterating the view of the canyon and turning the open-air edges of the suite into a gray, misty blur. The roar of the water outside matched the chaotic, frantic rhythm of the blood roaring in my ears.​I didn't even wait for Lucas to take off his jacket. The second Elena closed the corridor doors, leaving us completely isolated in the master pavilion, I spun around.​"Don't you ever lay a hand on me like that again," I hissed, my voice vibrating with a day's worth of suppressed fury. I pointed a shaking finger at him. "In the car. Touching my face to prove you can. I am your business partner by force, Lucas. I am your legal shield because you hol

The Ghost of Jakarta​Jennifer’s POV​The silk of my robe felt impossibly thin against the cool mountain breeze, but I refused to let my shoulders tense. I descended the stone steps slowly, each bare footfall deliberate on the slick volcanic tile. I kept my gaze locked on the woman in the white trench coat.​Isabella Romano looked exactly like the kind of woman who belonged in Lucas’s world—sleek, dangerous, and completely unbothered by the blood on the floor. Her dark eyes tracked my descent with a slow, patronizing assessment that made my skin crawl, but I didn't give her the satisfaction of looking away.​"Ah," Isabella purred, tilting her head as I reached the bottom of the steps, standing a few feet away from Lucas. "The new Mrs. Lombardi. You look... remarkably rested for someone whose life's work was liquidated last Tuesday."​"It was restructured, Ms. Romano," I corrected, my voice smooth, adopting the precise, corporate pitch I used to handle hostile takeovers back in Londo