บททั้งหมดของ The Divorcee's Ultimate Revenge System: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 36

The heavy steel door of the boardroom slammed shut, sealing them inside the makeshift trauma ward. The disgraced surgeon did not waste a single second asking questions about the global bounty or the destroyed naval vessel. He dropped to his knees on the cold floorboards beside the military cot and violently ripped the ruined white gauze away from Julian chest. Fresh, dark blood instantly welled from the catastrophic tear in Julian side. The sheer scale of the internal damage was absolutely horrifying. The original sniper wound had completely ruptured, and the blunt force trauma from fighting Wei Chen had splintered a lower rib, driving bone fragments dangerously close to his vital organs. "Hold this," the surgeon barked, pressing a thick stack of sterile trauma pads directly into Chloe hands. "Press down with your entire body weight. Do not let up for a single microsecond." Chloe obeyed instantly. She leaned her fragile frame over Julian, driving her palms down into the thick pads.

​The freezing wind howled across the grated iron walkways of the Rust Citadel. The bruised purple sky of the afternoon had completely surrendered to a pitch black, starless night. The looming winter storm Arthur had warned them about was already making its presence known. Violent gusts of icy rain battered the thick steel blast shutters of the executive boardroom. ​Inside the dim room, the preparations were completely finalized. ​Julian stood near the bolted steel table. He was dressed in thick, dark tactical layers provided by the smuggler captain. A heavy, waterproof canvas duster concealed his matte black pistol and the thick bandages binding his shattered ribs. He moved with a tight, calculating precision. Every single step was a calculated effort to mask his lingering physical agony, but his obsidian eyes burned with absolute, focused intensity. ​Chloe walked over to him, zipping up her own heavy insulated jacket. She pulled a dark wool beanie over her bright blonde hair, tuck

​Two absolute months of perfect, uninterrupted silence. ​The Mediterranean sun baked the ancient terracotta roof of the villa, casting long, warm shadows across the vibrant purple bougainvillea. Time on the hidden archipelago did not move in frantic, digital milliseconds. It moved slowly, dictated entirely by the rhythmic crashing of the turquoise tide against the rocky cliffs below. ​Chloe stood on the expansive stone balcony of the master suite. She held a warm ceramic mug of rich espresso in her pale hands. She wore a simple, flowing white linen dress that caught the gentle ocean breeze. The heavy tactical vests, ruined silk shirts, and the suffocating terror of the Vanguard Syndicate felt like a distant, faded nightmare. ​She looked down at the sprawling lower gardens. ​Julian was working. The terrifying king of the global underworld was completely shirtless under the blazing afternoon sun. He was methodically rebuilding a collapsed section of a centuries old stone retaining w