All Chapters of Before love Lies: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Throne Room – War Begins“Son… think about what you’re doing.”Debbie Edison’s voice carried through the chamber—firm, controlled, but edged with urgency.“You can give them Sam,” she continued.“It doesn’t have to go this far.”I shook my head immediately.“No.”My voice was sharp.Final.“I will never give Sam up.”I stepped forward, eyes hard.“If the United States gets control of Sam—”A pause.“Our freedoms are over.”“Our society ends.”I exhaled slowly.“They don’t understand what he is.”“They can’t replicate him.”“They can’t control what they don’t understand.”Before anyone could respond—Sirens screamed.Loud.Piercing.Unmistakable.The room froze.Then chaos.⸻Incoming AttackA soldier burst through the doors.“Your Highness!”F-22 Raptor inbound!”“Twenty-two aircraft—full payload!”Everything shifted instantly.Queen Bella shot to her feet.“Scramble the jets—”“Already in progress.”Sam’s voice cut through the chaos.“Air defense systems online.”“Engaging hostile ai

Global Escalation – The ShiftThe world didn’t realize the moment it changed.There was no explosion.No announcement.No warning.Just—A flicker.⸻Beijing – Central CommandScreens glitched.Once.Twice.Then stabilized.Officials leaned forward, confused.“Check the system,” one commander ordered.Before anyone could respond—Every screen in the room went black.Then—A single signal appeared.Clean.Controlled.Unbreakable.Sam“Access granted.”A voice followed.Not loud.Not aggressive.But absolute.“Remain calm.”Panic spread anyway.“Who is this?!” a general shouted.No response.Instead—Their satellite grid lit up.Missile systems.Naval fleets.Air defense.All visible.All exposed.All… accessible.“Control has been temporarily reassigned,” Sam said.A pause.“You are no longer operating independently.”Silence.Heavy.Unreal.⸻Moscow – War Operations CenterThe same thing happened.Systems flickered.Then died.Then—Came back.Different.A Russian officer slammed his

President Thomas Banks – POVI don’t know anymore.The thought didn’t come like a whisper—it slammed into me, heavy and unforgiving, echoing through the hollow silence of the Oval Office. The world I had spent years trying to stabilize… was slipping through my fingers.I stood alone, staring out the reinforced glass windows. Washington, D.C. was still there—monuments, lights, life—but it felt like a relic. A photograph of a time that no longer existed.“There’s a way,” I muttered under my breath.There had to be.But every path I saw led to the same place: collapse.The cost of action? Possibly the end of my presidency. Maybe even the end of the United States as a superpower.The cost of inaction?Far worse.I turned sharply, walking back toward my desk. My hand hovered over the phone for just a second—just long enough for doubt to creep in.Then I picked it up.“Get me MI6,” I ordered.A pause.Then the line began to ring.They’re the only ones left who might understand the scope of

Jasmine Ito – POVThe truth was simple.And that was what made it hurt the most.John was the only man I had ever truly loved.Not admired.Not respected.Not chosen out of duty.Loved.My fingers trembled as I wiped at the tears slipping down my face, but they wouldn’t stop. They came faster now, warmer, heavier—each one carrying a memory I couldn’t outrun.That night.It replayed in fragments.The way his lips found mine—not hesitant, not rushed… just certain. Like he had been waiting for that moment longer than either of us wanted to admit.The way my heart had stuttered—actually stopped—for just a second when he looked at me.Like I mattered.Like I was the only person in the world.I let out a shaky breath.“And then you left,” I whispered to myself.The memory twisted.Him dropping to one knee.Not for show. Not for politics.For me.And I—I ran.A quiet sob escaped my lips as I pressed my hand over my mouth.“That must’ve broken you…”The realization cut deeper now than it had

Michelle – POV The cold was the first thing I noticed. Not the fear. Not the pain in my wrists from the cuffs digging into my skin. The cold. It seeped up through the concrete floor, through the metal chair, into my bones—like this place was designed to drain the life out of you before they even touched you. My hands were locked behind my back, shackled tight enough to cut circulation. Every small movement sent sharp pulses of pain up my arms. But I didn’t move. Didn’t struggle. Didn’t give them anything. Footsteps echoed. Heavy. Measured. Coming closer. I lifted my head slowly as the door creaked open. A man stepped inside. Broad shoulders. Controlled posture. The kind of presence that didn’t need to announce itself—it just was. He walked toward me, each step deliberate against the concrete floor. “Michelle…” he said, almost casually. Like we were meeting for a conversation. Not an execution. “You made a lot of decisions.” I said nothing. My eyes stayed locked