All Chapters of OWNED IN THE DARK: Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

CIARAIf there is one absolute law governing the corporate infrastructure of Horizon Holdings, it’s that our biometric firewalls are designed to keep out international corporate spies, rival hit squads, and federal audit teams. They were never calibrated to handle a deeply desperate, heavily perfumed, upper-class suburban parasite wearing nothing but a trench coat and cheap entitlement.I sat behind the reinforced glass desk in my master office, the six-foot frame of my body draped in a sleek charcoal silk jumpsuit, my fingers hovering over a high-velocity data stream detailing our new Zurich maritime acquisitions. The internal climate control was humming at its usual freezing vibration, a clinical preference that kept my head clear while Mathew’s vanguard units finalized the digital deletion of James Harvour’s remaining shell accounts.The office doors didn't chime a traditional warning note. Instead, the local internal comms loop burst into a sudden, chaotic frequency."Ciara," Mary

CIARAThe underground parking garage beneath Horizon Holdings felt cold and lifeless.The air smelled of damp concrete, motor oil, and rainwater drifting through the ventilation system. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting long shadows between rows of expensive vehicles.I stood beside my armored SUV, one hand resting on the driver's door. My coat hung heavy around my shoulders, and exhaustion sat deep in my bones after another endless day of cleaning up the mess the old families had left behind.For once, the garage was quiet.No board meetings.No security briefings.No emergencies.Just silence.I reached for the biometric scanner on the door handle.The vehicle chirped softly as the security system recognized me.Then something changed.A faint shift in the air.Footsteps.Not the confident stride of one of Louis's security men.Not Mathew.Not anyone who belonged here.These steps were hesitant. Uneven.Desperate.Before I could turn around, something cold pressed against

MATHEWRain hammered the streets of Zurich, turning the narrow roads into ribbons of black glass beneath the city lights.From the back seat of the Mercedes, I watched the entrance of the nightclub across the street through the tinted window. The bright sign above the door flickered on and off, bathing the wet pavement in an ugly pink glow.The Velvet Trap.A forgotten little club tucked beneath the railway tracks. Loud enough to drown out screams. Crowded enough for someone desperate to disappear.Exactly where Maggie would hide.The tablet in my lap displayed the building's floor plan. Louis had already sealed every exit. Two teams were inside posing as customers, while another waited in the alley behind the club.If Maggie tried to run, she wouldn't make it ten steps without being caught. She honestly thought using Alexander’s name as a shield would protect her forever but she had no idea how wrong she was. Presently not even I or anyone else could save her from these women's wrath

MATHEW The silence inside my private study at the London estate wasn’t the usual strategic silence we used when calculating a corporate asset freeze. It was the heavy, suffocating stillness that settles into a bunker right before the structural concrete collapses under a direct hit.I sat behind the massive mahogany desk, my six-foot-four frame frozen into an unyielding block of ice. Across from me stood Collins. He stood shaken and out of sorts."Mathew," Collins whispered, his voice cracking beneath the weight of the data he was carrying. "I ran a deep forensic recovery script on the old Vance servers in Zurich, looking for any residual financial footprints Eleanor might have left behind. I didn't find a bank log. I found a hidden security partition from twenty-four years ago."Beside my chair, Carlista stood as rigid as an iron pillar, her leather jacket cold against my shoulder, her hand resting flat on Louis’s arm. Louis was standing right behind her, his posture protective, his

MATHEW The private medical suite was unnaturally quiet.I stared at the stark white ceiling above me, its brightness almost painful after hours of unconsciousness. It felt nothing like my study back at the estate. There were no familiar shadows, no scent of polished wood, no warmth from Ciara sitting nearby. Just antiseptic air, cold fluorescent lights, and the steady rhythm of a heart monitor.Beep... beep... beep...The sound echoed through the room like a metronome counting down every second of my recovery.I tried to push myself up.The instant I moved, agony exploded through my chest.A sharp gasp escaped before I could stop it. It felt as though someone had driven a heated blade through my collarbone. Every muscle locked, and my body refused to cooperate. My jaw clenched so tightly my teeth hurt.The shooting replayed in my mind with cruel clarity.Two shots.Precise.Controlled.One tore through my shoulder. The other shattered my collarbone.Ciara hadn't missed.She simply ha