บททั้งหมดของ His velvet obsession : บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Astrid povI needed a weapon. Not a gun—I wouldn’t even know how to flick the safety—but something. A tool. A way to prove that this mountain hadn’t swallowed my soul yet.​I stood before the rows of books, my eyes blurred with tears I refused to let fall. He thought he knew me because he bought me Powerless. He thought he owned my mind because he’d tracked my reading logs in London.​I reached out and grabbed a heavy, leather-bound encyclopedia from the bottom shelf. It was thick, dense, and felt like a brick in my hands. I sat on the floor, hidden behind the velvet swing chair, and began to systematically pull books from the lower recessed shelf.​He’s watching, my mind screamed. He’s in the room next door, behind that wall, watching the pixels move on his screen.​I tried to act natural, flipping pages as if I were looking for a quote, but my fingers were searching the wood of the shelf. I felt a snag. A tiny, jagged edge where the walnut paneling met the floor. I dug my nail into i

Xavier's pov The metallic tang of blood in my mouth was the only thing keeping me grounded. Every breath felt like a serrated blade in my chest broken ribs, definitely but the pain was secondary. It was a distraction. A static hum in the background of a much louder symphony: the sound of boots on the concrete above.​I leaned my head against the cold, damp wall of the sub-corridor. My vision swam, the red strobe lights of the alarm system turning the world into a stuttering nightmare. I had underestimated them. Not their strength—I knew their numbers—but their desperation. They weren't just here to kidnap her; they were here to burn the mountain down with us inside it.​I checked the magazine of my sidearm. Three rounds. Three. A pathetic number for a man who claimed to be a king.​I closed my eyes for a second, just one, letting the darkness of the mountain take me.​ I saw her at seven years old, wearing a dress that was too big for her, hiding behind

Astrid pov I didn't give him the chance to see me coming. I didn't scream, and I didn't hesitate. As he turned his head to shout an order to the men in the hallway, I drove the jagged, broken end of the screwdriver into the meat of his thigh. ​He let out a sound that wasn't human a strangled, wet grunt of pure shock. His grip on my hair vanished as he stumbled back, his hands instinctively flying to the wound. ​"You little—!" ​I didn't wait for the insult. I bolted. ​My bare feet slapped against the cold marble, the sound echoing like frantic heartbeats. I wasn't running for the door; the hallway was a death trap filled with his men. I was running for the only thing that offered a chance of escape, however terrifying it was. ​The balcony. ​I burst through the library’s glass doors, the mountain air hitting me like a physical blow. It was freezing, sharp enough to burn my throat, but it tasted like life. The storm had passed, leaving behind a moonlit world of j

Xaviers povThe silence of the bunker was a living thing, heavy and suffocating. Every breath I took felt like a betrayal to the quiet, a jagged serration against the stillness she had finally found in sleep. I watched her—the rise and fall of her shoulders under that rough wool blanket—and felt a sickening sense of possession that I couldn't distinguish from terror.​The security monitors to my left flickered. Gray-scale ghosts moved through the library three floors above. They were systematic, tearing the spines off the books I’d meticulously curated for her, looking for safes that didn't exist and secrets I carried in my head. They were vultures picking at a carcass, but as long as that steel door held, they were picking at the wrong body.​My phone vibrated against my thigh—a low, rhythmic pulse. I pulled it out, the screen’s glare biting into my eyes.​Unknown: The girl for the debt, Xavier. We know she’s in the mountain. Every minute you wait is a minute the interest grows.​I de

Astrid PovThe blood on the floor was still steaming.​I stared at the spot where Alex had been—where a man I had barely known for days had just been unmade by the person I was supposed to trust. My heart wasn't just racing; it was slamming against my ribs like a trapped bird trying to break its own wings.​Xavier stood a few feet away, his chest heaving, his knuckles slick and dark. He looked less like my brother and more like some ancient, vengeful god of the mountain. ​I hate you, I thought, the words a silent scream in my head. I hate that I need you. I hate that you’re the only thing standing between me and whatever is outside that door. ​I looked down at the tactical jacket he’d draped over me. It was too big, smelling of his expensive cologne and the sharp, metallic tang of the hallway. I felt like I was wearing his skin. It was suffocating, but as the sirens wailed and the mountain groaned under the weight of the intruders, I pulled it tighter.​I wasn