Semua Bab The Biker's Favorite Sinner: Bab 121 - Bab 130

Lila’s POV“TAKE YOUR hands off her.”Jacob’s voice cut through the room like steel drawn slowly from a sheath. Dangerously close to breaking. The words came from the doorway just as Adrian’s question still hung between us.Tell me why Jacob was outside your room last night.For one suspended second, everything in the private parlor seemed to freeze. The warm glow from the sconces. The faint ticking of the antique clock above the mantel. The slow rise and fall of my breath.Even Adrian’s gaze shifted, not startled, not caught off guard, but with the measured calm of a man who had almost expected this moment.I turned.Jacob stood in the doorway, broad shoulders filling the frame, one hand still on the brass handle as though he had opened the door with more force than necessary. His dark shirt clung slightly across his chest, and the tension in the line of his jaw was so severe it looked painful.His eyes were not on me. They were locked on Adrian. Adrian did not move away from where h

Lila’s POV“HE WAS there the night my father died.”The words came out of me like a gasp. Not spoken. Torn. The moment they left my mouth, the room seemed to narrow around me.Marco froze by the desk, the file still open in his hands.Vivienne straightened slowly from where she leaned against the shelves, her eyes sharpening with something dangerously close to interest.But it was Jacob I felt first. Always Jacob.His hand came to the small of my back, warm and firm, grounding me before the floor beneath me could disappear. Because it was disappearing.The study blurred. The smell of cedar, old paper, and leather faded beneath something else.Rain. Thunder. The faint static crackle of a phone line.And then—I was there. No. Not there. I was back in my apartment in New York. The night my father died. My breath caught so violently it hurt.My hand flew to my temple. A sharp pain bloomed behind my eyes. A memory forcing itself through whatever wall had been built inside my mind.Jacob’s

Lila’s POV“I NEED you tonight,” I whispered to Jacob.The words barely made it past my lips before the room seemed to fall into a different kind of silence.Not the suffocating silence of interrogation. Not the haunted silence of memory. This one was softer. Heavier.A silence that held everything I had been trying not to feel since leaving Adrian in that drawing room.My father. Theodore.Adrian’s confession. I let it happen.The words were still lodged inside my chest like broken glass.Jacob stood just inside the door of my room, shoulders tense, dark eyes searching my face with the kind of careful attention that always made me feel seen in ways that terrified and steadied me at once.He had been waiting. Of course he had.The moment I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, he was already moving toward me.“Lila.”

Lila’s POV“BEFORE THIS ceremony continues…”My own voice rang through the chapel before the officiant could finish the next line. It cut through the room cleanly. Sharp enough to make every whispered conversation die.Sharp enough to stop the soft rustle of silk, the shifting of polished shoes across the marble aisle, the faint clink of champagne glasses from the reception tables set beyond the open garden doors.For one suspended moment, the entire Montgomery Estate seemed to hold its breath.I stood at the center of the aisle in white. The gown felt heavier now than it had when Vivienne had fastened the last button behind my back. Not because of the fabric. Because of what it represented.A trap. A transfer. A legal execution dressed as a wedding.At the far end of the aisle, Adrian stood waiting in his tailored black suit, on

Lila’s POV“JACOB!”The scream tore out of me before I even realized I was shouting.It split through the chapel like a blade.One second the room had been frozen in the aftermath of my father’s voice ringing through the speakers, the truth cracking open in front of every guest seated beneath the vaulted ceilings of Montgomery Estate’s private chapel.The next, Theodore moved.He did not stumble into panic the way guilty men in stories did. He moved with calculation. With survival and cold instinct of a man who had spent his life building exits before anyone knew there was a fire.His chair scraped sharply against the marble floor as he shoved back from the front pew. Gasps erupted around us. Someone near the aisle cried out.The officiant stepped back, pale and confused, the ceremony abandoned in the wake of ruin.Theodore’s f