All Chapters of Owned By The Enemy : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The city never slept, but inside the penthouse the silence felt deliberate — chosen, controlled, suffocating.Ivy stood near the glass wall, arms folded tight across her stomach as if holding herself together. Below, headlights crawled through the streets like veins of white fire. She had counted them for almost an hour just to stop herself from thinking.It didn’t work.Footsteps echoed behind her.Measured. Unhurried.She didn’t turn immediately. She already knew who it was; nobody else moved like that — like the world rearranged itself to clear a path.Sebastian Wolfe stopped a few steps away.“You’re avoiding the main rooms,” he said calmly.“I’m breathing,” she replied. “Something I’m allowed to do, right?”A pause followed — not heavy, not angry, just observant. He always watched before he spoke again, like he was memorizing reactions instead of words.“You’re still here,” he murmured. “That’s more cooperation than I expected.”Her laugh came out thin. “Don’t mistake exhaustion

The first thing Ivy Harper learned was that silence could be louder than cruelty.It followed her through the corridors, pressed against her skin in rooms that were too clean, too expensive, too deliberately empty. Even when voices drifted from behind closed doors—low, controlled, strategic—none of them were meant for her.She was not included.She was accounted for.The room she’d been placed in wasn’t a cell, but it felt more confining than any locked door. Floor-to-ceiling windows, minimalist furniture, no personal touches. Nothing to suggest a life lived here. Only a life contained.Ivy stood near the window, fingers resting against the glass, watching the city move without her. Cars flowed like blood through veins. People hurried somewhere important. Somewhere chosen.Her chest tightened.This was the longest she’d been left alone since everything shifted. Since the men stopped pretending she was anything other than what she was.A piece.The door opened without warning.She didn

The silhouette stepped fully into the light.Everything in the penthouse shifted.Ivy felt it first — the way Sebastian’s posture hardened beside her, the subtle stillness in Rafael’s shoulders, the quiet tension rolling off Jaxon and Lucien like a tide pulling inward. Even Mara froze, her breath catching as the stranger’s gaze swept the room with calm, predatory interest.He didn’t rush.He didn’t need to.Tall, dressed in charcoal black, he carried himself with a certainty that rivaled Sebastian’s — but where Sebastian’s presence felt cold and precise, this man’s felt restless, volatile.“Sebastian Wolfe,” he said smoothly. “You’ve built quite the fortress.”Sebastian’s voice was quiet. “And you’ve crossed quite the line.”The man smiled faintly. “Lines are only real when people respect them.”Rafael chuckled under his breath. “You always liked drama, Viktor.”So. A name.Viktor’s gaze flicked to Rafael, amused. “And you always liked chaos.”Lucien stepped slightly forward, calm and

The morning light seeped through the blinds, sharp and unforgiving, casting stripes across the polished floors of the penthouse. Ivy Harper lay on the chaise, body still trembling from the night before, mind buzzing with the memory of hands, touches, and gazes that had been both a lesson and a test. She could feel the lingering heat in her skin, the way every nerve had been awakened, and the subtle awareness that nothing would be the same again.Rafael was the first to appear, stepping lightly into the room with that same predatory grace. His gaze lingered on her as he approached, slow and deliberate, every step measured to make her pulse quicken even before he spoke. Lucien followed, posture flawless, eyes dark with calculated intent, studying her as though he were trying to map her very thoughts. Jaxon remained near the doorway, still and unyielding, a silent anchor that pulled her awareness back to the room’s perimeter. And somewhere above, always above, Sebastian Wolfe’s presence

The hospital corridors felt too quiet.Not peaceful — just hollow, like every sound had been swallowed before it could breathe. Ivy walked beside Sebastian without touching him, though she felt his presence like a shield at her back. Rafael lingered a few steps ahead, hands in his pockets, gaze sharp as if danger could appear between white walls and antiseptic light. Lucien and Jaxon had remained behind this time — not out of disinterest, but strategy.This was meant to be gentle.Or at least, as gentle as anything in their world could be.“You don’t have to stay,” Ivy murmured softly to Sebastian as they reached the ward doors.“I know,” he replied, voice calm. “But I will.”Rafael glanced over his shoulder, a faint smirk ghosting across his face. “Relax, princesa. It’s a hospital, not a battlefield.”She didn’t answer. The last time she had seen Emily conscious had been chaos — alarms, fear, unanswered questions. Now her steps slowed, nerves tightening in her chest.Room 312.The do