All Chapters of From Prison To Power: The Ex-Wife's Vengeance : Chapter 61 - Chapter 69

Chapter 61Valencia’s POVThe tarmac was a stage, and I was the prize in a play I never auditioned for. I stood paralyzed between two jets, two lives, and two men who seemed determined to tear the world apart just to see who could hold the leash.The biting wind whipped my hair across my face, stinging my eyes, but the cold outside was nothing compared to the absolute, freezing dread settling in my chest. Too many men. The thought hammered in my skull. My entire life had been a series of rooms owned by men, a sequence of scripts written by men, and even now, even after I had burned the Rossi empire to the ground, I was still standing in the middle of a clearing, waiting for a man to decide if I was a person or a trophy.Akeem’s hand was still hovering near mine, but his focus had shifted. His posture wasn't that of a lover anymore; it was that of a soldier facing his greatest nemesis. Slowly, deliberately, he reached into his jacket and pulled a sleek, silver Beretta. The sound of h

Chapter 63Valencia’s POVThe cabin of the jet was a masterpiece of mahogany, cream leather, and soft, ambient lighting, a sanctuary at thirty thousand feet. But to me, it felt like a pressurized tomb. The roar of the engines was a constant, low-frequency thrum that vibrated through my bones, a reminder of the speed at which I was fleeing my old life.Mia had finally succumbed to exhaustion, her small head heavy against my chest. I gently transferred her to the wide, reclining sleeper seat, tucking a cashmere throw around her shoulders. She looked so small, so innocent, her dark curls splayed against the pillow."She’s finally out," I whispered, straightening up.Maria didn't look up from the table across the aisle. She was methodically breaking down her submachine gun, the clicking of metal components the only other sound in the cabin."She’s a Rossi," Maria said, her voice like grinding stones. "She’ll learn to sleep through the sound of gunfire soon enough.""Don't say that," I sn

Chapter 65The descent into Ibiza was a blur of turquoise water and jagged limestone cliffs that looked like teeth rising from the Mediterranean. As the private jet’s wheels kissed the runway, the cabin shook, jarring Mia awake. She clung to my hand, her eyes darting toward the window, looking for the whale."We’re here, Little Star," I whispered, though my own heart felt like a lead weight in my chest. "Look at the sun. It’s real."Akeem was already standing, his linen shirt buttoned up but loose, the poetic lover-boy persona back in full force. He reached down, his fingers brushing my cheek as he helped me up. The touch, which had felt like a lifeline only hours ago, now felt like the brush of a spider’s silk. "Welcome to the beginning of forever, Valencia," he murmured.We were whisked away in a matte-black SUV, winding up narrow, sun-drenched roads until we reached a gate of wrought iron that looked like intertwined vines. Beyond it lay the villa. It was, by every objective meas

Chapter 67Valencia’s POVThe signal jammer in my pocket felt like a piece of radioactive lead, burning against my thigh as I crossed the threshold into the villa. The air-conditioning hit me like a physical wall, chilled and sterile, stripping away the scent of the Mediterranean and replacing it with... nothing. Just the scent of expensive filtration."Akeem?" I called out, my voice bouncing off the high, white ceilings. Silence.I headed for the study, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I expected to find him there, seated behind that bleached oak desk, playing the part of the diligent protector. But when I pushed open the glass doors, the room was empty. His laptop was closed, his glass of water half-empty, the lemon slice at the bottom looking shriveled and exhausted.I turned on my heel and headed for the master suite. My pulse was a drumbeat in my ears, a steady thump-thump of rising adrenaline. I needed to see him. I needed to look into those amber eyes and

Chapter 69Valencia’s POVThe medical monitors in Mia’s room provided a rhythmic, artificial heartbeat that was the only thing keeping me grounded. The scent of antiseptic and expensive linen fought for dominance, a sterile reminder of the violence that had brought us back to this white-walled purgatory. Akeem sat at the foot of the bed, his shadow stretched long and distorted across the marble floor by the dim nightlight. The man who had nearly choked the life out of me hours ago was gone, replaced by this hollowed-out shell of grief. He still held my hand, his grip possessive yet trembling, as if I were the only thing keeping him from drifting into the Mediterranean."We grew up in a house built on high-tensile steel and lies," Akeem began, his voice barely a whisper. He didn't look at me; he looked at the bandaged arm of my daughter. "The photo you found... that was the last summer of the lie. Silas was twelve. I was eight. He was my sun, Valencia. He was the one who taught me h