Lahat ng Kabanata ng HIS COLD ADDICTION : Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

The days after Caldwell’s arrest passed in a strange, weightless blur.No urgent calls.No threats.No strategies spread across tables like battle plans.Just quiet.Tiana discovered that quiet could be just as overwhelming as chaos.She woke late that morning to sunlight spilling across the sheets. For a long time, she lay still, staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint sounds of the city waking up below.Her body felt different.Lighter.Not because her problems were gone, but because the constant pressure of impending doom had lifted from her chest.She wasn’t dying.The thought still felt foreign.She sat up slowly and pressed a hand to her sternum, half-expecting to feel the tight ache that had haunted her for months.Nothing.Just a steady heartbeat.Alive.Vince was in the kitchen when she walked out.He was making coffee, sleeves rolled up, expression thoughtful. He glanced at her as she entered, and something subtle softened in his face.“Morning.”She nodded. “It feels

The morning sun streamed through the tall windows, painting the penthouse in warm gold. For the first time in months, Tiana felt something light in her chest—a feeling she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time: possibility.She sat at the small kitchen table with a cup of coffee, sketchbook open before her. The paintbrushes from the package Vince had given her were arranged neatly on the counter, ready to be used. The apartment smelled faintly of acrylics and coffee, a domesticity she wasn’t used to—but she liked it.Vince came into the kitchen wearing his usual crisp shirt, sleeves rolled up. He paused when he saw her.“You’re up early,” he said softly.“I didn’t sleep well,” she admitted. “Too many thoughts.”He slid a chair out and sat across from her, his dark eyes studying her face with concern. “Want to talk about them?”Tiana shook her head, smiling faintly. “Not yet. I just… I want to try something today.”“Try what?”“I want to paint. Not just practice, but really let myself

Tiana did not notice the change at first.It began as a feeling.A quiet, persistent unease that followed her through the morning like a shadow she couldn’t shake off.She was at the studio, guiding a little boy’s hand as he tried to mix colors on his palette. He was laughing, smearing blue into yellow and proudly announcing he had created “magic green.” She smiled, praised him, cleaned his hands, and returned to her own canvas.But the feeling remained.Like someone was watching.Like something unseen had shifted.She glanced toward the window.Nothing.Just the street, the traffic, people moving about their lives.Still, her chest felt tight.By afternoon, the unease had turned into something sharper.Her phone buzzed.An unknown number.She almost ignored it, but something compelled her to open the message.There was no text.Just a picture.Her breath stopped.It was a photo of her.Taken from across the street.Outside the studio.Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.Her

Tiana didn’t expect the fear to turn into clarity.But it did.By the third day of the messages, the panic had dulled into something sharper. Her mind, once clouded by anxiety, began noticing patterns.The timing of the texts.Always when she was outside.Never when she was inside the penthouse.Never at night.Whoever it was… they were physically nearby when they sent them.Watching in real time.She mentioned it to Vince over breakfast.He paused mid-sip of his coffee.“Say that again.”“They only text when I’m out. Studio, café, walking. Never when I’m home.”Vince’s eyes darkened with focus. “That means they’re not using old photos. They’re observing you directly.”Her stomach tightened.“So they’re following me?”“Yes.”Strangely, the confirmation made her feel less crazy.More aware.That afternoon, she decided to test a theory.Instead of going straight to the studio, she stopped at a small bookstore two streets away and stayed there longer than usual, pretending to browse.She

Tiana barely slept.Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the picture again—herself outside the bookstore, unaware that someone stood at a distance documenting her life like she was prey.By morning, her nerves were stretched thin.Vince, however, looked calm.Too calm.He dressed slowly, deliberately, like a man preparing for something inevitable.“What’s the plan?” she asked quietly.He adjusted the cuff of his shirt. “We give him what he wants.”Her stomach twisted. “Which is?”“You. Out in the open.”She stared at him. “You want me to be bait?”His eyes softened. “Only for a little while. You won’t be alone. My men will be everywhere. He won’t even see them.”Tiana hesitated.Fear tried to rise again, but she pushed it down.“No more hiding,” she reminded herself.She nodded. “Okay.”They chose the café two streets from the studio.The same place she had gone before.The same routine Marcus had been watching.She sat at a table near the window, coffee untouched in front of her,