Todos los capítulos de OWNED IN THE DARK: Capítulo 151 - Capítulo 160

CIARAI sat at the long table in the private conference suite of Horizon Holdings, thirty-four floors above the rain-slicked pavement of Wall Street. The glass walls of the room gave a panoramic view of the gray Manhattan skyline, but inside, the only light came from the soft, blue glow of my terminal screens and a single brass desk lamp.My right hand was resting on the polished wood, the heavy white medical tape Mary had wrapped around my knuckles yesterday feeling tight and unyielding every time I flexed my fingers. It looked barbaric against the sleeve of my cream silk blouse, but I hadn’t taken it off. It was a reminder. A physical ledger of the price I had paid on Forty-Second Street."The London vaults are entirely dry, Miss Sterling," my chief analyst said, his voice coming through the encrypted speakerphone on the console. "We completed the secondary clearance codes at 0400 hours. Every asset Reinhardt’s proxies were trying to flag has been rerouted through our maritime shell

CIARAThe storm off the North Shore was relentless, throwing sheets of heavy rain against the glass of the master suite until the view of the driveway completely dissolved. From the window, I watched the twin beams of Mathew's headlights finally cut through the dark, washing over the front portico before the engine cut out, plunging the yard back into a shadow broken only by the outdoor security floods.I had left the lamps on downstairs, a quiet trail of warm amber light to guide him inside after a day that had left everyone in this house wired tight and utterly restless.When the bedroom door finally opened, he looked massive against the doorframe, his broad shoulders slightly damp from the quick sprint through the downpour. He had a look in his eyes I hadn't seen in weeks a dark, freezing focus that told me he had just crossed paths with a ghost on the drive up. He didn't say a word as he closed the door behind him. His hands were bare, the white medical tape he usually kept wrappe

CIARA I sat by the edge of the bed in the dark, the silk of my robe pooled around my knees. The safehouse had settled into that strange silence that only comes after everything that went down last night.It was just after three in the morning when the door turned on its hinges.Mathew stepped into the room. He had thrown on a pair of dark trousers after leaving our bed, but his chest remained bare, his skin catching the faint amber glow from the hallway. There was no white medical tape on his knuckles. He looked massive, a towering silhouette against the frame, but the rigid, unyielding armor he usually carried after an interrogation had vanished.He didn't look like an enforcer locking down a perimeter. He looked like a man who had just been wrecked by a train.He walked toward the bed, his bare feet making almost no sound against the polished pine floorboards. He didn't crowd my space. He didn't drop his weight onto the mattress with that familiar, aggressive possessiveness. He si

MATHEW It was a sunny afternoon, I stood in the deep shadow of a weeping willow, my six-foot-four frame cutting a rigid line against the gray midnight fog. The central air of the city was thick, humid, and heavy, a stark contrast to the unbearable I felt within. I slowly rolled my left neck, the stitched tissue in my shoulder pulling with that familiar, burning localized fire. My right hand was bare, the knuckles raw, but the heavy weight of my custom tactical .45 was an immediate, comforting anchor against my thigh.Detective Collins had crossed the line. He’d been playing a dangerous game ever since he handed over those old Sterling files at Vittorio’s, joined us, trying to act like a civilian referee in a war that had already moved past his jurisdiction. He thought his badge was a shield. He didn't realize the syndicate ghosts didn't respect city municipal boundaries."Alpha unit is in position, boss," Louis’s voice crackled through the low-frequency earpiece, dry, flat, and enti

MATHEW The monitoring room was silent except for the low sound of computers.The room sat beneath the estate, buried under layers of concrete and steel. There were no windows, no clocks, no reminders that a new day was beginning outside. Time down here was measured by glowing screens, scrolling reports, and the endless flow of information moving across secure networks.I sat back in my chair and stared at the main monitor.A glass of whiskey sat untouched beside me.I couldn't remember pouring it, my attention kept drifting upstairs.Ciara was finally asleep.After everything that had happened, she deserved that much.The image of her lying in our bed flashed through my mind. Her dark hair spread across the pillow. One arm curled beneath her cheek. Safe.At least for now.I rubbed my jaw and exhaled slowly.The anger hadn't left.Some men had pulled a gun on my wife less than twelve hours ago.Every time I thought about it, something dark twisted inside my chest.The room suddenly fe