บททั้งหมดของ WICKED INHERITANCE: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

Cruz didn’t take long. That was the first problem. The second was that Ivy wasn’t ready this time. Not fully. Not the way she needed to be. The penthouse still felt unsettled from everything that had just happened, like the walls themselves hadn’t caught up yet. The news still played silently on the screen, Adrian Cole’s name scrolling endlessly at the bottom, turning a calculated move into something far more dangerous. A mistake. Or something worse. Sebastian stood near the window, his posture rigid now, no longer relaxed, no longer controlled in the way it had been before. He was thinking too fast. 

They didn’t argue about it. That was the problem. The moment the name settled between them—Elena—something shifted in a way neither of them could fully control. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t explosive. It was quiet. And that made it worse. Sebastian was already moving, grabbing his jacket, his focus narrowing into something sharper, more personal. Ivy watched him for a second too long before stepping forward. “You don’t get to go alone,” she said. He didn’t stop. “I wasn’t planning to.” “That’s not what it looks like.&r

The silence didn’t break immediately. It stretched. Heavy. Unstable. Like the room itself was holding its breath, waiting for someone to say the wrong thing. Sebastian didn’t move.He stood there, staring at Elena like he was trying to find something familiar in her face, something that still made sense. He didn’t. “What do you mean you’re part of it?” he asked finally. His voice was lower now. Tighter. Controlled in a way that didn’t feel natural. Elena didn’t answer right away.Of course she didn’t. She let the question settle, let it sit between them like something deliberate. Then—

Cruz wasn’t dead. That was the first thing Ivy confirmed. Her chest was rising. Barely.But enough. “She’s alive,” Ivy said. Sebastian moved closer instantly, his gaze scanning the interior of the car. There was no visible blood.No obvious struggle. Just Cruz slumped slightly in the driver’s seat, her head tilted at an unnatural angle, her phone still loosely in her hand. “That’s not an accident,” he said. “No,” Ivy replied. “It’s controlled.” A pause. Then—“Check her pulse.” 

Ivy didn’t go back to the penthouse. That was the first decision she made.And it was deliberate.“We’re not going back,” she said as she pulled out of the structure, her voice steady, her eyes fixed ahead.Sebastian glanced at her. “That’s not the plan.”“It is now.”Cruz shifted slightly in the back seat, still weak but conscious enough to listen. “You think they’re watching it,” she said.“I know they are,” Ivy replied.A pause followed.Then—“Then where are we going?” Sebastian asked.Ivy didn’t answer immediately. Because this wasn’t about location. It was about movement. Unpredictable movement.“We’re going off pattern,” she said.“That’s vague.”“It’s necessary.”Silence settled. Then—“You’re making this up as you go,” Sebastian said.Ivy’s grip on the wheel tightened slightly. “No,” she said. “I’m adjusting.”“That’s not the same thing.”“It is when the system is built on prediction.”Cruz let out a faint breath behind them. “She’s right.”Sebastian glanced at her in the rear