All Chapters of Divorce Clause: Heir Included: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Zack gripped the edge of the velvet sofa, his knuckles white. The air in the penthouse felt heavy, thick with the scent of expensive bourbon and the lingering smoke from Nathan’s silver lighter.“Don't give me that saintly martyr act,” Zack snapped, his voice cracking. “You’re acting like a machine, Nathan. A Don is still allowed to feel something besides ‘duty.’”Nathan let out a dry, jagged laugh. He stopped his pacing, standing over Zack like a shadow. He looked exhausted—the sharp lines of his jaw shadowed by stubble, his eyes bloodshot from a week of staring at crime scene photos.“Men like me don’t get the luxury of feelings, Zack. That’s how you get a bullet in the base of your skull.” Nathan’s hand reached out, his thumb tracing the line of Zack’s cheek with a tenderness that felt like a bruise. “Havenfall is a shark tank. You stop swimming for one second to ‘feel’ something, and the Cocolink gets ripped apart from the inside.”“That’s a bullshit standard,” Zack insisted, lean

I woke before the sun, but I wasn't alone. The mattress dipped under a heavy weight near my hip. In the suffocating dark of the penthouse, the sharp silhouette of a man sat on the edge of the bed.Nathan.He was stripped to his boxers, the rugged landscape of his back—all muscle and old scars—mapped out in the moonlight. He sat with his elbows on his knees, head buried in his hands. I sat up, the motion sending a brief wave of nausea through my gut."Nathan?" I reached out, my palm settling on the heat of his shoulder. I traced the hard line of his trap, a silent offer of comfort. "What's wrong?"He turned. His eyes were hollow, stripped of their usual cold silver fire. "I’m glad you weren't there tonight, Zack," he rasped, his voice a jagged edge. "If this is what the job is going to be like, the more time we spend apart, the better."I pulled my hand back as if the skin of his shoulder had turned to dry ice. The words hit like a physical blow to the solar plexus. I yanked my knees t

The metallic tang of old blood and pine needles hit my tongue as I stood in the doorway of the Havenfall cabin. Madeline was there. She didn't look like a kidnap victim. No bruises. No torn silk. She looked like a predator who had finally cornered its meal, her designer heels clicking rhythmically against the hardwood."You really can't just die quietly, can you, Zack?" she said. No greeting. No "hello." Just a serrated edge in her voice."The hell is this, Madeline?" I blocked the entrance, my hand gripping the frame until the wood groaned.She didn't wait for an invite. She shoved past me, the scent of her cloying perfume thick enough to choke on. "I had the script written perfectly. The crime scene. The frantic 911 call. Your DNA under my fingernails." She spun around, throwing her hands up as if she were complaining about a bad caterer. "But you’re a cockroach. I stomp, and you just scuttle into a new corner."The air in the cabin turned heavy. She wouldn't be monologuing her crim

The silence in the room was a physical weight. Caleb hadn't made a sound in days. Usually, that internal presence was a storm of jagged instincts—feral from the moment I answered the call about the fire, screaming through the drive to Havenfall, and shattering when the doctor pulled back that white sheet. Now? Nothing. Dead air.I reached out, probing the hollow space in my mind where my partner's voice usually snarled or guided. Just to check if he was still there.His absence was the final proof. This wasn't a nightmare I could wake from. Zack—my light, the only soft thing in this blood-soaked life—was ash.He ran because I let him believe I was his judge. He fled my shadow because I turned protection into a cage. He died in the dark, thinking I was the one holding the match.My father’s execution had cracked me, but this? This was total annihilation. The mafia, the Cocolink, the throne—it was all gray static. I didn’t care if Havenfall burned to the ground. I didn’t care if Madelin

The air in the private Eros clinic was thick with the copper tang of blood and the sterile bite of antiseptic. Zack’s knuckles were white, his fingers digging into the cold metal of the bed rails. Another contraction hit—a jagged, white-hot blade carving through his abdomen. He arched off the mattress, his spine popping, a guttural snarl ripping from a throat already raw from hours of screaming."Make it stop," Zack wheezed, his hair plastered to his forehead with salt-slicked sweat. "Just... put me under. Cut it out of me.""Can't do that, honey," the nurse murmured, dabbing a cool cloth over his burning skin. "You're almost there. You're doing incredible. Focus on the breath.""F**k the breath!" Zack roared, his body convulsing as the next wave of agony crested. Tears tracked through the grime on his face. "I want Nathan. Where is he? Why isn't he here?"Ethan Cole stepped closer, his hand hovering near Zack’s shoulder before he thought better of it. He leaned in, his voice a low, u