Todos los capítulos de The taste Of Revenge: Capítulo 91 - Capítulo 100

The leather on the steering wheel groaned under my grip as I idled the Audi in the subterranean garage beneath our building.Eleven p.m. Rain was still dripping off the front bumper, pooling on the polished concrete in slick, dark puddles. The board's words were still echoing in my head…’suspended, frozen, figurehead’...like a physical ache behind my eyes. I cut the engine. The quiet, hitting me instantly, heavy and suffocating.Usually, the elevator ride up to the penthouse was where the tension started to bleed out of my shoulders. Usually, she was waiting and the soft, quiet, smell of vanilla and warm skin would hover near the floor-to-ceiling glass in that white silk robe, ready to pour my drink and absorb the dark, violent edges I brought home from the office.I took the private elevator up in silence, my mind already calculating the counter-offensive. I’d call my personal council at first light. I’d squeeze Miller’s firm until their stock bled. I’d find whatever leverage Gerald

The leather of the steering wheel felt cold under my knuckles as I pulled into the subterranean garage beneath the tower. For three weeks, I’d driven myself. I needed the mechanical feedback…that violent bite of the engine, the physical sensation of a machine yielding completely to my commands while everything else spun out of control but as I cut the ignition, the silence inside the car hit me like a solid object. My hands were trembling…barely visible, but there still. I hated this shit…I hated the weakness of it.I left the R8 in the stall and didn't even bother locking it. Taylor was already waiting by the private executive elevator, his face an unreadable slab of granite, holding the door open. He didn't ask questions nor did he offer a word of quiet, pathetic sympathy…he just stood there, his eyes fixed straight ahead, knowing better than to speak to me when the air around me was this thin."Take the sedan," I said, my voice low and flat as I stepped into the elevator. "Keep it

Aurora's POVThe television screen bled a harsh, rhythmic red across the shadowed walls of the drawing room: ‘BREAKING NEWS.’ I didn't turn up the volume. I didn't need to hear the breathless anchors panting into their microphones. The bold, blinding white letters scrolling across the bottom of the display said everything my dark heart was longing to read:`STERLING CAPITAL GROUP UNDER FEDERAL INVESTIGATION. CHAIRMAN XAVIER ADRIAN NAMED IN MULTI-MILLION DOLLAR MONEY LAUNDERING AND FRAUD CONSPIRACY.`I stood frozen in the center of the cold marble floor, my fingers coiled so tightly around a crystal tumbler that the glass groaned under the pressure. Aerial cameras cut to live footage of Sterling Capital Tower…the towering glass monument where Xavier ruled like a god, now completely swarmed by dark federal sedans and flashing blue lights. SEC agents were carrying black executive binders out of the lobby, surrounded by a blinding sea of press cameras. A dark, intoxicating wave of heat ru

Selene's POVMy inner goddess didn't just stop dancing…she crashed straight into a brick wall, knees buckling and her breath catching in a dry, agonizing gasp.I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted copper. The crystal tumbler didn't just fall, my fingers simply surrendered to the sheer gravity of what was happening on the screen. It shattered against the marble floor, a splash of amber scotch soaking through the delicate fabric of my heels. I couldn't move… I couldn't blink, my eyes stayed glued to the live broadcast, watching hands bound tightly in cold steel. The hands that had once held me, possessed me, and ultimately ruined me…being shoved down into the dark cavern of a federal vehicle.Xavier. “Oh, sweet lord... Xavier.”The impenetrable, sovereign titan of Manhattan looked completely hollowed out. His suit jacket was crumpled, his dark hair disheveled, sweat glistening on skin that had turned the sickly color of damp ash. His jaw hung slack and his dark eyes wide and bloodshot,

Damien’s POVThe heavy linen curtains of my master suite were pulled back just far enough to let the ambient glow of the New York skyline filter into the room. Outside, rain washed over the glass in steady, rhythmic sheets, blurring the chaotic city lights into soft pools of gold and violet. Inside, the world was entirely silent, save for the soft, steady sound of Selene’s breathing.She was resting against my chest, her bare shoulder warm against my skin and her fingers loosely woven through mine. The scent of sweet jasmine and fresh rain lingered around her with the scent that had completely invaded my brownstone over the past few months, slowly dismantling the cold, immaculate solitude I had spent a lifetime building. I looked down at her, tracing the delicate line of her jaw with my thumb. She looked so serene when she slept, stripped of the heavy armor she was forced to wear every single day. The world knows her as a brilliant surgeon and an extraordinary rising force in fashion,