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Home / Romance / Too Good At Goodbye’s: The Architect’s Hidden heir / Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Lahat ng Kabanata ng Too Good At Goodbye’s: The Architect’s Hidden heir : Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

11 Kabanata

Architect Of Ruin

ZARA’S POV "I’m offering you an opportunity, Mr. Vane. One you’d be wise to take.” I didn’t wait for an invitation to sit. I didn’t wait for his assistant to finish introducing me. I simply walked into the center of the obsidian-clad office and looked Asher Vane in the eye. Asher didn’t move. He sat behind his desk, a glass of amber liquid catching the morning light, his expression unreadable. He was the only man in the city powerful enough to make Mark Sinclair sweat, and right now, he was looking at me like I was a glitch in his morning schedule. "And what opportunity would that be, Miss...?" "Storme.Zara Storme," I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline screaming through my veins. "The opportunity to watch the Sinclair Group go under. I want to bury them, and I’m the only one who knows where the bodies are hidden." Asher set his glass down. The air in the room shifted. "That is a very specific, very personal ambition. Mark Sinclair is currently the most sought-after man

The Ghost Of A Name

ZARA’S POV Success was the best revenge, they said. But for a Vance, success wasn’t revenge it was survival. And for my father, it was permission to be cruel. Arthur Vance wasn’t merely wealthy. Wealth was pedestrian. Arthur Vance was capital. He was the man whose approval could resurrect dying companies or bury them with a single, careless “no.” He was invited into rooms where governments bent their heads and billionaires waited their turn to speak. But to me, he would always be the man who checked his watch while my mother was dying. He didn’t hold her hand. He didn’t whisper goodbye. He didn’t even pretend. He stood at the foot of the hospital bed, immaculate in a tailored suit, reviewing emails while my mother’s chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven spasms. Machines beeped around her like a failing metronome. Her skin had gone translucent, stretched thin over bone, the cancer eating her from the inside out while he slowly withdrew everything else his presence, his loyalty

First Domino

ZARA’S POVMark Sinclair used to tell me that I was his "secret weapon," but as I sat in my new office at Vane Corp, I realized the truth. To him, I wasn't a weapon; I was a silencer. I was the one who muffled his stupidity and made his arrogance look like confidence.The first blow had to be the Sterling Logistics deal. It was Mark’s obsession a merger that would put his name on every shipping container from here to Singapore. He had already spent the anticipated profits in his head, probably picking out a yacht to match Camille’s engagement ring.I leaned back, watching the flickering cursor on my screen. I didn’t need to hack him. Why would I? I had written all his passwords. I knew the rhythm of his thoughts.I pulled up the Sterling internal audit the real one. Not the scrubbed version Mark’s team was looking at. Deep in the sub-files of their Delaware subsidiary was a tax evasion scheme so messy it would trigger a federal investigation the moment the ink on the merger dried.

Love Hurts

ZARA’S POVThe heavy door of the hotel room clicked shut, sealing me into a silence that pressed in from all sides.I didn’t reach for the light switch.I didn’t need to see the curated luxury of the Lenox to know I was alone.The moment my back hit the door, my strength gave out. I slid down until my sit bones met the carpet, knees pulled tight to my chest like I could fold myself small enough to disappear. The air felt too thick to breathe properly. My chest ached not sharply, but dully, like a bruise that had been pressed too many times.This is stupid, I told myself. You’ve survived worse.But my mind, usually a weapon honed on logic and leverage, betrayed me. It softened. Wandered. Drifted back to the beginning before power, before secrecy, before I learned how easy it was to be replaced.Mark.I saw a rainy Tuesday in his first office, when the furniture was cheap and the ambition was loud. He had been pacing, hands in his hair, spiraling over a logistics error that would cost t

Strong Ones Cry

ZARA’S POVMorning came quickly .I woke to the dull churn in my stomach and the weight of the city pressing through the hotel windows. The Lenox room smelled faintly of detergent , neutral and impersonal, like it had been designed to forget the people who passed through it. I lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling, cataloging sensations the way I always did when my body felt unfamiliar.Nausea. Again.Fatigue. Heavy, deep, unearned.A strange tightness in my chest that had nothing to do with fear.I rolled onto my side and reached for my bag, fingers brushing the corner of cardboard. The pharmacy box. Still unopened. Later, I told myself.After today.After Helios.After everything stopped moving long enough for me to think.I pushed myself out of bed, showered quickly, and dressed with mechanical precision. Black trousers. White blouse. Hair pulled back cleanly. Armor. By the time I stepped out onto the street, I looked like a woman who had never been abandoned in a hotel r

Public Silence

ZARA’S POVThe invitation arrived on embossed ivory card stock, thick enough to feel expensive between my fingers.The Helios Initiative.European Green Energy Summit.Stockholm.Mark had always loved an audience.I stared at the card longer than necessary, my stomach tightening with a familiar unease that had followed me for days now. I told myself it was nerves. Anticipation. Hunger.Asher was inviting me to be his plus one and it was starting to sound like the perfect place to crush my Ex.Asher noticed my hesitation.“You do not have to attend,” he said evenly. “We can handle this from the outside.”“No,” I replied. “I want to be there.”I needed to see it. I needed to watch him try to rewrite history again.By evening we had arrived. Asher had come to pick me up from the hotel. The venue was a cathedral of glass and steel overlooking the harbor. Everything about it screamed permanence. Legacy. The illusion of clean futures funded by dirty money.Inside, the air buzzed with curat

Why Now

ZARA’S POVThe hospital room smelled like antiseptic and something faintly sweet that made my stomach turn.I stared at the ceiling tiles while the monitor beside me hummed steadily, like it was mocking how calm everything seemed when my head was anything but.Pregnant.The word felt obscene. Like a bad joke delivered too late.I pressed my lips together and let out a sharp breath through my nose.“No,” I whispered.My hand curled into the sheet. Of all the things that could have happened. Of all the timelines I could have survived. This one felt cruel in a way that went beyond strategy or revenge or loss.A child.With him.“With a domestic bastard who’s getting married to someone else,” I muttered bitterly.The nurse glanced up from the chart near the door. She hesitated.“Everything okay, Ms. Vance?”I forced my face into neutrality. “Fine.”She walked over anyway, professional smile firmly in place.“You’re stable now. We’ll discharge you once the doctor signs off.”“Good,” I said

My Future

ZARA’S POVI sat on the edge of the bed with the pills resting in my palm.Two small tablets. Clinical. Silent. Heavy.They were supposed to end things neatly. Quietly. Like deleting a file you did not want to acknowledge anymore.I stared at them until my eyes burned.“This is not happening,” I said out loud. “This is not my life.”My phone buzzed on the bedside table. An alert. Market update. Sinclair Group stock had crashed overnight. Analysts swore it would keep plummeting . But then the announcement of their wedding day . In a fee says they’d be legally hitched. A romantic distraction. A narrative pivot.I laughed once. Short. Sharp.“So that’s it,” I muttered. “That’s all it took.”I set the pills down and stood abruptly. The room tilted. I gripped the dresser until it passed.Nausea again.“You’re really committed to making yourself known,” I whispered, anger threading through my voice.I paced. Stopped. Paced again.I told myself I was only remembering because my body was h

A New Story

ZARA’S POVThe city lights blurred past the cab window as I stared straight ahead.My child.Not his.Mine.The word settled deeper the more I repeated it.Mine.By the time I reached the hotel, my hands were steady.I unlocked the door, stepped inside, and looked around the room that had held my collapse, my rage, my indecision.“This ends here,” I said quietly.I walked straight to the desk, picked up the small white bag, and stared at it for a long moment.“You don’t get to decide anything for me,” I muttered.I walked to the trash can and dropped it in.The pills hit the bottom with a dull sound.No hesitation.No second thoughts.I let out a breath I did not know I was holding.“I’m keeping you,” I whispered, pressing my hand gently to my stomach. “You’re not a mistake. You’re not punishment. You’re not revenge.”My throat tightened.“You’re mine.”Tears burned briefly, but they did not fall.I moved.Suitcase open. Closet emptied. Dresses folded with precision. Shoes wrapped car

Time Flies

ZARA’S POV“Luca.”Silence.“Luca, where are you.”I heard the quick footsteps before I saw anything. Then Maria’s voice rose slightly, controlled but edged with concern.“Lord gracious, where’s this child now.”A sudden pop echoed from the kitchen.Not loud enough to shatter anything. Not violent. Just sharp enough to startle.Maria gasped. “What was that.”From beneath the kitchen counter came a triumphant shout.“It worked.”I stepped through the front door just as Luca crawled out from under the counter, a small plastic container in his hand, flour dusted faintly across the tiles.Maria pressed a hand to her chest. “What experiments do I have to clean up now. Your intelligence will be the end of me.”Luca stood up and brushed his knees, trying to look very serious.“It was on purpose,” he said quickly. “Baking soda and vinegar make gas. I saw it in my book. I just wanted to see how big it would get.”Maria put her hands on her hips. “You wanted to see how big it would get under my

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