Semua Bab A Bride For Revenge : Bab 31 - Bab 40

The digital wildfire had ignited faster than any scandal in the history of the Logan dynasty.In a world of instant gratification and viral outrage, Jessica Vance’s live broadcast didn't just trend; it dominated.Within minutes of the upload, the footage was being picked up by major networks, flashing across the giant LED screens in Times Square and populating the "Breaking News" banners of every tablet and smartphone from the financial district to the suburbs.The image was damning: Olivia Logan, the wife of the city’s golden heir, standing in a blood-stained emerald dress, her wrists bound in steel, surrounded by the rotting bones of an abandoned house.In the top-floor executive suite of the Logan Industries tower, the air was cold enough to frost glass.Sebastian Logan sat behind his mahogany desk, a fortress of a man whose very silhouette usually commanded the room.But tonight, his face was long, etched with a confusion that was rapidly curdling into a volcanic rage.His eyes we

Olivia flinches, the cold metal of the handcuffs biting deep into her skin as she surges forward. For a split second, the fear is eclipsed by a white-hot flash of fury.She wishes she could lung across the table, to teach Vivian a lesson she’d never forget for daring to use her mother’s life as a bargaining chip.The sheer audacity of the threat - to pull the plug on a woman already fighting for every breath - makes Olivia’s blood boil.But the chain snaps taut with a jarring metallic ring, pinning her back to the chair.Her eyes were wide, vibrating with a mixture of unshed tears and primal rage.She glares at Vivian, her chest heaving as she tries to suck in the stagnant air of the interrogation room.The image on the phone - the rhythmic rise and fall of the oxygen mask over Magdalene’s pale face - is burned into her retinas.Vivian doesn’t move. She doesn’t even blink.She remains leaned over the table, her face so close that Olivia can smell the expensive, floral scent of her per

The foyer of the Logan estate was a cavern of cold marble and echoing silence, but tonight, the air felt charged, vibrating with the invisible frequency of a bomb about to detonate.Aiden stood at the base of the grand mahogany staircase, his chest heaving, the dampness of the night clinging to his jacket like a second skin.High above him, perched on the landing like a bird of prey, Vivian stood perfectly still.She didn't look like a woman who had just been accused of orchestrating a murder; she looked like a queen surveying a messy subject. She held her wine glass by the stem, her fingers long and pale, the deep crimson liquid catching the dim amber light of the chandelier.She leaned against the ornate gold-leaf barricade, watching Aiden from her height with a terrifying mix of power and maternal guts.The staircase between them was no longer just architecture; it was a physical manifestation of the gap between them.Vivian held the high ground of composure and status, while Aide

The bright lights of the police station felt like needles in Aiden’s eyes.The air inside smelled like old coffee and floor cleaner - a cold, lonely scent that seemed to cling to the walls.Aiden didn’t wait for anyone to tell him where to go. He used his name and his power to push past the heavy doors until he reached the room with the thick glass walls.Olivia was sitting there.She looked small and tired. Her hair was messy, and her face was pale.She was wearing a bright orange jumpsuit that was way too big for her frame. When she saw him, she jumped up and ran to the glass, hitting it with her hands."Aiden!"Her voice sounded like it was breaking. She pressed her face against the cold glass, her breath making it foggy."Liv, just breathe," Aiden said. He kept his voice steady and strong. He sat down and picked up the heavy black phone on his side of the glass.He watched her hands - they were shaking so much she could barely hold the receiver."Aiden, you have to believe me," sh

Aiden stood in the living room, his shadow long and shaky against the wall. The truth finally hit him: he’d been played. The clocks in the house were wrong.He hadn't been invited for a chat; he’d been lured into a trap while they finished Olivia off."You’re late, Aiden," Sebastian said. His voice was heavy, like a king giving a death sentence. "You were late the second you picked that girl over your own family.Yes, I know I initiated this whole mess you call a marriage," Sebastian added, looking straight into Aiden’s eyes.Aiden stood there, numb and dumbfounded. His face felt long and heavy, his mind racing to catch up to his father’s cold logic."But my son, that’s because I knew who you were," Sebastian continued, his voice smooth and dangerous."I knew you wouldn't even bring yourself to look that girl in the eye, let alone talk to her. I expected you to make her miserable in the months to come. I thought you'd break her."Sebastian paused, setting his glass on the table with a