Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 161 - Chapitre 170

Eve's POVThe gun in Elias Trent's hand does not waver, and neither does the smile on his face.He stands in the doorway of the nursery like he owns it, like he has always owned it, and there is something almost pleasant about his voice when he speaks. It is the voice of a man who has been waiting years for this exact moment, and now that it has arrived, he intends to savor every second."Mrs. Cresswell." His eyes move over me with casual interest. "I have heard so much about you. Your mother spoke of you often, you know. Before she died."The words hit me like a physical blow, and I feel the blood drain from my face."You knew my mother?""I knew her very well." He steps into the room, his gaze drifting over the nursery with the detached curiosity of a man surveying a museum exhibit. "We were close once. Before she chose your father. Before she chose the Lovelace name over the man who actually loved her."Devin moves toward me, but one of Trent's men grabs his arm and yanks him back.

Devin's POVThe plan is simple.Three targets. Three cities. Three teams. We hit them simultaneously, before they have a chance to warn each other or go underground. It is risky and ambitious and exactly the kind of move that could end this once and for all.But it will take time to coordinate. Days, maybe weeks. And in the meantime, we have to find a way to live.Eve and I spend the next morning in the nursery, playing with the boys and pretending the world outside does not exist. Sebastian has discovered his feet and spends most of the morning trying to pull them into his mouth. Theodore is working on rolling over, his tiny body straining with effort as he tries to flip from his back to his stomach."Come on, little man," I say, kneeling beside the blanket. "You can do it."Theodore grunts and flips. He lands on his stomach with a look of surprise, his eyes wide and his mouth open in a perfect O."He did it!" Eve claps her hands. "Theodore, you did it!"Theodore looks up at us with

Devin's POVThe casino is a glittering cavern of noise and light.I walk through the front doors at ten o'clock, dressed in a suit that costs more than most people make in a month, my hair slicked back, my expression one of casual arrogance. I am playing the role of a wealthy businessman looking for a night of entertainment. No one looks twice at me as I make my way to the high-stakes poker tables.Solomon's people are already inside, positioned at the exits and the security room. They are waiting for my signal. Hannah is at her table, dealing cards with practiced efficiency. She catches my eye for a fraction of a second and then looks away.Orlov arrives at eleven.He is a large man, bald, with thick fingers and cold eyes. He wears a suit that strains across his belly and a watch that glitters with diamonds. He takes a seat at Hannah's table and orders a whiskey. His two bodyguards position themselves nearby, their eyes scanning the room.I watch from across the casino floor, pretend

Eve's POV The next target is a man named Yuri Volkov, and he is the most dangerous of the three. Unlike Orlov, who hid behind intermediaries and dead drops, Volkov operates in the open. He owns a chain of nightclubs in Miami, and he uses them as fronts for the network's money laundering and weapons trafficking. He is careful, but he is also arrogant. He believes he is untouchable. We spend three days planning the operation. Marguerite provides the intelligence, Solomon assembles the team, and Mark works around the clock to trace Volkov's movements and identify his weaknesses. The weakness, it turns out, is his ego. "He hosts a private party every month at his flagship club," Marguerite says. "Only the wealthiest and most connected people in Miami are invited. He uses it to show off, to make deals, to remind everyone who is in charge. If we can get someone inside, we can get close to him." "Who do we send?" I ask. "That is the problem. It has to be someone he does not know, som

Eve's POV The trial of Marcus Kane lasted four days, and I attended every single one of them. I sat in the front row of the courtroom with Devin's hand wrapped around mine while the prosecution laid out the evidence piece by piece. The weapons shipments. The financial records. The testimony from the people he had recruited and threatened and used. Hannah Reyes flew in from the west coast to testify, her voice steady as she described the night she drugged Viktor Orlov's drink. Elena Vasquez appeared by video link from Paris, where she had settled into a small apartment overlooking the Seine. Even Thomas Grant, the analyst who had betrayed us, took the stand to describe the threats Kane had made against his family. Kane watched it all with that same cold, unbothered smile, as if the proceedings were a minor inconvenience rather than the end of a thirty-year reign of terror. When the verdict came back guilty on every count, he did not flinch. He simply turned his head and looked direc