Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 61 - Chapitre 70

The storm finally begins to thin. Rain drips from the rooftop railings, and the city lights of Manhattan flicker through the clouds like distant signals. But the tension between us hasn’t lifted. Victor Salazar. The name sits in the center of everything now. Marcus checks his watch. “If the board meeting started when Margaret said it did, we have maybe thirty minutes before Salazar finishes his speech.” Adrian’s voice is calm. “He won’t finish.” Marcus raises an eyebrow. “Confident.” “He’ll stall.” “Why?” Adrian looks toward Reyes Tower glowing across the skyline. “Because he’s waiting.” My pulse jumps. “For what?” Margaret answers. “For confirmation.” We all look at her. She exhales slowly. “Salazar is careful. He won’t move without knowing whether his plan succeeded tonight.” Marcus frowns. “You mean the bombs.” “Yes.” “And Adrian dying on this rooftop,” Marcus adds. Margaret nods once. “Exactly.” Adrian’s voice sharpens. “Then he doesn’t know the plan failed.” “

The boardroom is silent. Victor Salazar is still standing at the head of the table, but the certainty he carried moments ago has begun to crack. Adrian’s accusation lingers in the air. You erased the part where your own driver left the building. Salazar recovers quickly. Of course he does. Men like him always do. He straightens his jacket and turns calmly toward the board. “This is a desperate distraction.” Several executives glance between him and Adrian uneasily. Salazar gestures toward the tablet again. “The issue in front of us is not speculation. It’s evidence.” The screen still shows the bomb discovered inside Reyes Tower. Marcus mutters under his breath beside me. “Man really loves that slideshow.” Salazar continues smoothly. “Explosives placed inside this building during an ongoing corporate war.” He looks directly at the board. “The pattern of reckless escalation is obvious.” One of the older directors clears his throat. “Adrian… can you explain this?” Adrian’s v

For a long moment, no one speaks. The boardroom is nearly empty now. The chaos from earlier has faded, leaving only the quiet hum of the city outside the windows and the weight of what sits on Adrian’s tablet. My eyes remain fixed on the line that refuses to make sense. Beneficiary: Marcus Dela Torre. Five hundred million dollars. My heartbeat pounds in my ears. “That can’t be right,” I whisper. Marcus exhales slowly beside me. “Well,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, “this is officially the worst surprise I’ve received all year.” Adrian doesn’t look at him. His attention is still on the document, studying it the way a surgeon studies an X-ray before making the first cut. “You’re telling me,” Marcus continues carefully, “that if Alessa had died in that crash…” He gestures toward the screen. “…I would have inherited half a billion dollars?” Adrian finally lifts his gaze. “Yes.” Marcus lets out a low whistle. “That’s… a hell of a retirement package.” I turn toward

The video freezes on the screen. My car. There is no mistake. The silver sedan sits under the harsh fluorescent lights of the Reyes Tower parking garage, rain streaking across the windshield. The timestamp glows in the corner. Three years ago. 11:08 PM. My heart pounds so loudly it feels like the entire room can hear it. Marcus is the first to speak. “Well… that’s unsettling.” Adrian doesn’t say anything. His gaze stays on the screen. On the reflection in the windshield. On the silhouette behind the steering wheel. Me. Except I don’t remember this night. I swallow. “That’s impossible.” Marcus glances at me. “You don’t remember coming here?” “No.” Adrian pauses the footage. “You were here.” My chest tightens. “I know what the video shows. But I don’t remember it.” The room falls quiet again. Adrian rewinds the footage. My car pulls into the garage slowly, headlights sweeping across the concrete walls. Then the car stops two spaces away from where Victor Salazar’s blac

The video stops. No one presses pause. It simply ends. Margaret Lawson standing inside Adrian’s office. Her calm voice echoing in the silence. “Victor told me you might refuse.” “So I came prepared.” The screen goes dark. And suddenly the room feels too small. I can’t breathe. Because the woman in that video— The one standing there with divorce papers in her hand— The one who walked into Adrian’s office ready to dismantle our marriage— Is me. Marcus leans back slowly. “Well,” he mutters. “That’s… not great.” I barely hear him. My chest tightens as something heavy settles in my stomach. Shame. Not the kind that flickers and disappears. The kind that sinks deep and refuses to move. Three years ago… I came to that building to leave Adrian. To destroy the only person in this room who never stopped protecting me. I swallow hard. “I hurt you.” The words come out before I can stop them. Adrian looks at me. His expression doesn’t change. “You don’t remember the reason