Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 1 - Chapitre 10

Chapter 1 He didn't fear danger.He feared what she did to his control.Bang.The sound split through the room before the pain even registered.Raiyan stared at the dent in the wall like it had personally betrayed him.Dust drifted in slow motion, catching the dim light. A second later, his knuckles burned—skin split, blood warm and bright. He welcomed it. The sting was grounding. Simple. Clearer than whatever was tearing through his chest.He pressed his palm flat against the wall.Didn't turn around.Behind him, the room was eerily silent. Not calm—compressed. Like someone had shut the world into a smaller box and locked it.Her dress lay crumpled on the floor. His shirt had been discarded somewhere near the bed. The sheets were twisted, pillows displaced, everything frozen at the exact moment control had slipped through his fingers.Raiyan didn't look back.If he did, he wasn't sure he'd survive it.He was not a man who lost control. He built companies on restraint. Negotiated pow

The first thing Raiyan noticed was the empty driveway.He slowed without thinking, eyes going straight to the spot where her car always sat.Nothing.His brain tried to fix it fast.Early errand. Different car. Driver. Anything normal.The gates closed behind him.Still nothing.He got out and walked in.The house felt wrong the moment he crossed the threshold. Not quiet. Not calm. Just… wrong. Too still, as if someone had been here and left in a hurry without making noise.Aunt Mirrium was in the kitchen. She looked up.Her eyes went to his face first. Then his hands. Then back to his face.“You didn’t come home last night.”Raiyan loosened his tie. “I was busy.”She nodded and went back to what she was doing.He saw the coffee cup.Cold. Untouched. Sitting in the same place it always sat in the mornings.Zoya never left coffee half-done.Two cups had become a routine without anyone calling it that. Quiet kitchen. No conversation needed. Just proof they were still there.His gaze sta

Raiyan hadn't slept.Not since that night.The mug on the bedside table held cold chamomile, the steam long gone. The pill bottle was still where it always was. He hadn't opened it. He couldn't. Something petty in him didn't want to do a single thing she would've told him not to—as if refusing it could undo what he'd ruined.He stood at the bedroom window with one hand against the glass, staring down at the pool.The water looked black in the dark, still enough to reflect the house back at him. A perfect image. A lie.Nothing in him felt still.The villa was too big tonight. Not quiet—hollow. Every room had space that didn't know what to do with itself. He kept hearing her without hearing her: soft steps in the hallway, the click of a mug on the counter, a door closing gently because she always closed doors like she didn't want to wake the world.He turned his head.His phone sat on the table behind him, screen dark.It shouldn't have mattered. She left. That was a fact. He lived on f

Late light softened the ballroom.Masks moved in clusters—velvet, lace, satin—voices too smooth, laughter a little too rehearsed. The orchestra played something slow, the kind of song that made people stand closer and call it tradition.From the upper landing, the room looked perfect.Chandeliers. Candlelight. A polished crowd pretending this was only celebration, not a marketplace.Elena stepped in and started working the room immediately.Not because she naturally owned attention—because she chased it. She greeted the host a little louder than necessary, accepted a drink she barely touched, and placed herself where she'd be seen.She smiled at the right people. Let a few compliments land. Let a few glances stay.Then she watched.Who arrived together. Who avoided each other. Who was too eager to be noticed.Routine. Easy. Controlled.Until attention slipped away from her.Not dramatically. Just steadily—like the room had found something better to stare at.Elena followed the shift w

Chapter 9Zoya didn't cry when she woke up.She stared at the ceiling of the Airbnb room, blinking slowly, waiting for the heaviness to pass the way it always did after a bad night.It didn't.The room was unfamiliar in small ways. Different curtains. Different smell. A quiet hum from a fridge somewhere. A bed that didn't feel like hers.She turned her head and looked at the chair by the window.Mei's coat was thrown over it like she owned the place already.Mei was asleep on the pull-out sofa in the living room. Zoya could hear her breathing from here, steady, deep. The kind of sleep that came when you weren't forcing yourself to stay strong every second.Zoya sat up slowly.Her phone was on the bedside table.She didn't touch it right away.She stared at it first, like it might move on its own. Like a message might appear if she waited long enough.Nothing.She reached for it anyway.No missed calls. No texts. No anything.A week.Nearly a week, and still nothing.She pressed her li