All Chapters of From Prison To Power: The Ex-Wife's Vengeance : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Chapter 52Jax’s POVThe basement of the Rossi Manor didn't just store vintage Barolo; it stored the expiration dates of empires.I sat in the dark, the only light provided by the neon-blue hum of my dual-screen deck and the frantic, rhythmic blinking of the bypass module. The air down here was thick with the scent of damp stone and the metallic tang of high-end circuitry. Above me, the Titan was playing mother, nursing a sick child and rediscovering her soul.But down here? Down here, I was dissecting the devil.The Rossi Master Safe, The Altar had been a bitch to crack. Even with the biometric loop I’d lifted from Antonio’s study, the secondary firewall was a recursive nightmare. It was designed to wipe its own drive if it felt even a hint of a brute-force attack. But Valencia had underestimated one thing: humiliation is the greatest overclocking tool in existence.Every time my fingers faltered on the keys, I felt the phantom sting of her hand on my forehead. A pat. Like I was a p

Chapter 54Silas’s POVThe silence of Blackwood Manor was not peace. It was the pressurized stillness of a tomb before the resurrection.I sat in the command center, the only light provided by the wall of monitors that acted as my windows into the world I was systematically dismantling. My hand, wrapped in a linen bandage that was slowly turning a dark, rusty crimson, throbbed with every heartbeat. I didn't mind the pain. The pain was a tether. It reminded me that I was still anchored to the physical world while my mind was thousands of miles away, prowling through the hallways of a cursed estate in Italy.On the central screen, the feed from the Rossi Manor played in high-definition silence. I had watched her. I had watched my Valencia, my masterpiece, the woman I had forged in the dark and christened in the fire tear that house apart from the inside. I had watched her play the grieving mother, the devoted bride, and finally, the operatic victim. I had seen her break Antonio Rossi,

Chapter 56Valencia’s POVThe tranquility of the garden still clung to my skin like the scent of crushed jasmine, but the moment I stepped back into the vaulted marble foyer of the manor, the air changed. The peace I had found with Mia was a fragile glass ornament, and I could feel the vibrations of the house trying to shatter it.I had just handed Mia over to a much more subdued, trembling nanny when I turned the corner toward the west gallery. The shadows here were long, stretched out by the dying sun into jagged fingers that seemed to reach for my throat. I didn't hear him move. I didn't hear the scuff of a boot or the rustle of a suit. Akeem simply materialized from the darkness of a recessed alcove, his massive frame blocking the path to my study.I stopped. My heart didn’t race, Silas had trained that reflex out of me but a cold, calculating stillness settled over my limbs."Akeem," I said, my voice smooth as polished stone. "I thought you were stationed at the perimeter.""The

Chapter 58Valencia’s POVThe echoes of the decanter hitting Antonio’s temple still vibrated in my wrists as I ran. The air in the hallway felt thinner now, as if the manor itself were gasping for breath, dying along with the Rossi legacy. I didn't care. I didn't care about the gold leaf on the walls or the blood on the floor. I only cared about the heartbeat waiting for me at the end of the north wing.I burst into the nursery, my chest heaving. The room was bathed in the soft, amber glow of a nightlight, smelling of lavender and the innocent scent of childhood that I had fought so hard to reclaim."Valencia!" Mia scrambled up from her small desk, her eyes bright with a manic, creative energy. She looked like a tiny bird, fragile yet resilient. In her hands, she clutched a sheet of heavy parchment, the edges crinkled by her grip. "Look! I finished it!" she chirped, her voice a bell in the silence of the dying house. "I drew the fountain. The one where the water never stops. I used

Chapter 60Valencia’s POVAkeem’s laughter was a low, resonant sound, a victory march played on a cello. He didn't just stand; he surged upward, his hand closing over mine with a grip that felt like a brand. He didn't look like a guard anymore. He looked like a man who had just stolen a goddess from the gates of hell."I knew you were smart, Valencia," he whispered, his eyes searching mine with a terrifying, hungry heat. "But I’m glad you’re finally being wise."He turned to the darkness and let out a sharp, two-tone whistle. From the thicket of cypress trees, a rugged, silver SUV rolled forward, its engine a hushed growl. No lights. Just a ghost moving through the trees."Get in," Akeem commanded, sliding into the driver’s seat. I scooped Mia up. She felt heavier now, burdened by the confusion of the night, but she didn't cry. She watched Akeem with those wide, observant eyes. Maria didn't hesitate; she took the front passenger seat, her hand never leaving the suppressed submachine