Lahat ng Kabanata ng Bound by Sin: The Heir & His Stepmother: Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

The white roses from Cassius arrived before I even began my work that morning. An impersonal, cold, and perfect arrangement, like everything he touched. The card, in his precise handwriting, read: “For your hard work.”Hard work. An elegant way of describing the methodical torture he and Lena subjected me to. Every diamond sewn, every sketch redone, was a fragment of my soul being sanded down.Without a word, I picked up the exorbitantly expensive arrangement and carried it to the fireplace in the room. The flames were already consuming the firewood, crackling softly. I threw the roses into the fire. The delicate white buds shrank, singed, and were consumed in seconds, releasing a sweet and agonizing perfume. It was the smell of my forged submission burning. A small bonfire of resistance.My refuge had become my cell. The wounds on my hands throbbed, a constant reminder of the price of my survival.“Tatiana” — Edda — was at her post, a silent sentinel. Her blue eyes followed my moveme

The Bentley glided through the streets of Munich like a predator among unsuspecting prey. The night was perfect for business: dark enough to hide secrets, clear enough not to raise suspicions.Before leaving, I sent a message to Edda.T: Business dinner extended. I will not have dinner at the mansion. I’ll be back before midnight. Let her know. And keep her safe.I didn’t need to say who “her” was. Edda knew.E: She is in the atelier. Working on the emergency collection. His white roses went into the fire. The black one is blooming.A cold smile touched my lips. Cassius’s roses burned. My orchid blooming. Aurora was learning how to play.T: Keep her alive. And keep her away from him.E: Always.I put the phone away. The dinner at the ‘Goldene Traube’ was an elegant trap, and I was the hunter who had invited himself to his own feast.I arrived exactly at eight o’clock. The restaurant was a sanctuary of dark wood and low lighting, where secrets were as expensive as the wines. My hosts,

“The Nachtkönigin,” I announced, picking it up. “Queen of the Night. Weighing seven hundred grams. Twenty-three-round magazine. Integrated expansion chamber that reduces the gunshot noise to a whisper. The barrel is rifled with an exclusive pattern, impossible to reproduce without access to the original matrix. Each bullet…” I pulled out the magazine, showing the projectiles with a strange translucent green hue. “is biodegradable. Composed of organic polymers and a high-density ceramic core. Upon hitting the target, the projectile fragments into microparticles that the human body absorbs within forty-eight hours. No traces. No evidence. Just the target… disappears.”Al-Rashid, who had entered silently during my explanation, whistled lowly.“An assassin’s weapon,” he murmured, his eyes gleaming.“A tool for those who understand that true power isn’t killing,” I corrected, returning the Nachtkönigin to the bench. “It’s killing without leaving any trace that you were ever there.”The seco

The Bentley glided up the driveway of the mansion shortly after midnight. The headlights sliced through the darkness, briefly illuminating the marble columns that had always reminded me of a mausoleum. Because that was what this house had always been: a gilded tomb for living souls.But something was different tonight.Lights were on upstairs. Movement. Shadows behind the curtains. The mansion never truly slept at midnight, but there was a different quality in the air — an electric tension, like the silence before a storm.Mateo parked the car. I stepped out, my footsteps echoing on the cobblestones.“Want me to wait?” he asked, his voice low.“No. Go. We have work tomorrow.”He nodded and the car disappeared into the night.I entered the mansion. The hall was lit but empty. Then I heard hurried footsteps.Matilda emerged from the side corridor, her face a mask of professional calm I knew too well to be fooled by. There was something in her eyes. A gleam. A spark of barely contained s

I left the atelier with the taste of her still on my lips, the scent of our sex ingrained in my skin, and the marks of her nails on my arms burning like trophies. The beast was sated, but not tamed. Never.Edda was leaning against the opposite wall, her blue eyes assessing me with her usual coldness. She had seen everything in this life, yet there was still a glint of amusement in her gaze that almost made me smile.Almost.“Edda.”“Löwe.”“The next time she plans something like this…” My voice was low and controlled, but each word was a steel bar. “You warn me. Before. Not after. You don’t let me find out afterward.”She didn’t apologize. That wasn’t her style.“She asked me not to tell you.”“And you obeyed.”“She is your partner. Not your subordinate.” Edda held my gaze. “Your mistake was thinking you could protect her by hiding the world from her. She isn’t a hothouse flower, Löwe. She is a vampire orchid. She grows in darkness. She feeds on shadows. And you know that.”The silenc