Semua Bab VOWS IN THE WAR ROOM: Bab 31 - Bab 40

Luc’s apartment smelled like cheap cologne and panic.The hallway outside his door was too quiet. One of those old buildings where the walls held sound like secrets. I knocked once, then twice, then harder.“Luc,” I called. “Open the door.”Nothing.I pressed my ear to the wood and heard movement…soft, quick, like someone shifting weight, deciding whether to run or surrender.“Luc,” I said again, lower. “If you don’t open this, I’m calling Gabriel.”The locks clicked.The door opened a fraction, chain still on.Luc’s face appeared in the gap…hair messy, eyes bloodshot, and a bruise blooming faintly under his cheekbone like a bad excuse.He looked at me like I was the police.“Yselle,” he whispered.I pushed the door. The chain caught.“Let me in.”“I can’t,” he said,

“A shield,” I repeated, because if I didn’t say the word out loud, it might not be real. Renaud stayed still, hands at his sides, as if he’d already decided not to touch me again. Maybe he didn’t trust himself. Maybe he didn’t trust what touching did to me. “What people?” I asked. “You don’t need the list.” His tone was clipped now, like he’d snapped back into his usual armor. “You need the rules.” “I’m not a child.” “No,” he said. “You’re stubborn. That’s worse.” I should have been offended. Instead, a laugh slipped out, short and sharp. “You married the wrong woman if you wanted obedient.” “I didn’t marry you for obedience.” That stopped me. My heart did an annoying little stumble. I moved closer before I could stop myself. “Then why?” Renaud looked toward the window, past it, as if the answer lived somewhere outside the glass. “Your father made enemies,” he said. “He makes speeches,” I shot back. “He makes donors. H

The door didn’t open.For three long seconds, the handle stayed angled, held in a patient grip.Then it eased back into place.No footsteps retreating. No hurried escape.Just… absence.Renaud’s eyes stayed fixed on the door as if he could burn a hole through it with attention alone. He didn’t reach for dramatics. He reached under the console and pulled out a compact earpiece, then pressed it into his ear.“Gabriel,” he murmured.“Already,” Gabriel said, and I heard keys tapping in the background. “Cameras on that corridor glitched eight seconds ago. Someone looped the feed.”Renaud’s mouth flattened. “Inside help.”“I’m sending two men,” Gabriel said. “Quiet. They’ll sweep.”“No,” Renaud replied. “Not two. Four. And keep them off the main stairs.”He looked at me then,

The second shot didn’t come.That was the strange part.The warehouse held its breath after the gunfire, as if even the men who fired the first round were listening to what it had done to us. The silence wasn’t peace. It was calculation.Renaud kept me pinned behind the forklift, one arm across my shoulders, his body angled to block the open floor. I hated how safe it made me feel. I hated more that I needed it.Gabriel crouched a few feet away, weapon raised, eyes locked on the office window and the shadows along the far wall. Julien was behind a stack of pallets, pale and sweating, his folder-hand empty now.My phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn’t reach for it. Every movement felt like an invitation.Above us, the office window shifted again. A shape moved behind the glass.Then a voice drifted down, amused. “No more shots. Not yet. We’re not here for blood.”“Then bring him out,” Renaud said, v

The door didn’t open.It stopped halfway, like the person outside wanted me to feel the near-miss. Wanted me to imagine what would happen if the lock gave way.Then the handle eased back to center.Silence.Julien didn’t move. Not at first. His hand hovered near the knob, like he was deciding between courage and foolishness.“Don’t,” I whispered.He froze.The printer finished and chirped like a cheerful idiot. The papers sat in the output tray, crisp and accusing.I crossed the room and snatched them up. My hands shook so hard the pages fluttered.Julien finally spoke. “We need to tell Renaud.” “I know,” I said. “But I need one minute.”“One minute for what?”“To breathe,” I snapped. Then softened it because Julien wasn’t my enemy. “To think without someone else deciding what I’m