All Chapters of HIS POISONOUS POSSESSION: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

[The Mirror of Betrayal]The "Zero Point" was not a high-tech lab or a digital simulation. It was something far more ancient and far more devastating: a secluded, fortified hunting lodge deep in the Siberian tundra, owned by a branch of the St. Claire family that history had forgotten. There were no flashing lights or neural grids here—only the smell of burning pine, the weight of heavy furs, and the suffocating realization that the monsters were purely human.Ivy stood by the frost-rimed window, looking out at a landscape so white it was blinding. She was draped in a heavy wool cloak, her hands clasped over her stomach. The realization of her pregnancy had become a cold, hard stone in her gut. It wasn't just a child; it was a bargaining chip in a war between two men who viewed the world as a game of conquest.Dante was across the

The library was a cavern of dark oak and the scent of old paper. She moved to the desk, her heart hammering against her ribs. She didn't look for digital files; Arthur was too smart to keep his most damning secrets on a network. She looked for the "Blue Ledger"—the one the Morettis had whispered about in the mountain.She found it hidden behind a false front of legal encyclopedias.As she flipped through the pages, her breath hitched. It wasn't just a record of bribes and mergers. It was a map of the "Moretti Eradication."September 14th: Sicilian cell neutralized. Dante Moretti tracked to the Nadir. Sabotage confirmed. The 'Asset' (Ivy) to be recovered in the confusion. Ensure no witnesses to the second explosion.But it was the entry from yesterday that stopped her heart.October 2nd: Signal detected in the Marseilles harbor. A 72-foot cutter, the 'Aethelgard,' is moving toward Swiss waters. If the Ghost is still haunting the coast, he is to be met with lethal force. The heiress is

[The Blood Covenant]The dock groaned under the weight of the two men, a primitive stage for the end of an empire. The air was thick with the scent of the burning villa and the icy spray of Lake Leman.Dante stood like a titan of shadow, his boot pressing into Arthur’s chest, the Blue Ledger—the map of their misery—tucked under his arm. But the world had narrowed to the tiny, crimson dot dancing on the silk of Ivy’s back. Julian Vane’s voice, amplified by the boathouse speakers, sounded like the grating of metal on metal."Move your foot, Moretti," Julian commanded. "And step away from the boat. If I see a single muscle twitch in Ivy’s direction, I’ll put a hole through her and the bastard you put inside her."Ivy stood frozen on the deck, the cold wi

You didn't just take a woman, Julian. You took the only thing that made him want to be a man instead of a god.""He’s going to kill you, too!" Julian shouted, gesturing toward the smoke. "He’s lost his mind! He won't even recognize you when he finds you!""Then let him kill me," Ivy said, stepping toward him, her voice gaining a dangerous, rhythmic edge. "I’d rather be destroyed by his hands than 'saved' by yours. Do you hear that hum, Julian? That’s not the fire. That’s the 'Sync.' He’s in the building. And he’s hungry."Dante reached the fortieth floor. The doors were reinforced steel. He didn't use an explosive this time. He used a sledgehammer he had taken from a maintenance closet, swinging it with a rhythmic, bone-breaking force.

[The Anatomy of the Void]Chapter 133: The Anatomy of the VoidThe night was no longer dark; it was a bruised, pulsating orange.Dante Moretti stood in the center of the St. Claire-Vane Plaza, his boots crunching on the pulverized remains of a ten-million-dollar art installation. Behind him, the glass lobby of the Vane Holdings headquarters sat disemboweled, a victim of the precision-charge he had set an hour ago. He didn’t look like a man leading a coup. He looked like a man standing in the center of his own funeral pyre.The air was thick with the scent of melting plastic and ionized dust. Dante’s coat was caked in soot, his knuckles split and weeping blood that he didn't feel. He hadn't slept in five days. The lack of rest had stripped away the strategic layers of the Warden, leaving behind a raw,