Claimed by havoc 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 71 - 챕터 80

Tristan By sunrise, New York has become a hunting ground, not for criminals, but for one woman. “ Again.” The surveillance footage restarts, Roxana steps out of the café, looks over her shoulder, walks, then runs. I have watched the same thirty-seven seconds so many times that I know every moment by heart. The panic that the guards finally notice she’s leaving while she pushes the emergency door open. The way she grabs the strap of her bag. The moment she decides, she doesn't look back, doesn't look guilty. Only determined. My jaw tightens. She planned this. Maybe not for weeks. Maybe not for months. But somewhere between the shopping trip and the café, she chose to leave me. The thought alone is enough to make something twist in my chest. “Brother,” Dmitry steps into the study. “We’ve got the taxi.” I stand immediately, “Show me.” The driver is in his late sixties, terrified. He wrings his cap between trembling hands while two of my men stand beside him. “I… I… didn't kno

Roxana The week disappears faster than I expect. Every morning, I wake up before the alarm, and every morning I tell myself the same thing. Maybe today. Someone will eventually help me. Maybe I will find a solution. Maybe today I won't lose everything I’ve managed to build for myself. By the time I reach the cafe, Maria is already shouting instructions in Spanish. I still don't understand half of them. But I understand enough. Coffee. Bread. Clean. Faster. I tie my apron around my waist and immediately get to work. The morning rush leaves no time to think. Orders fly across the room. Coffee machines hiss. Plates clatter, people laugh, someone complains. Yet none of it sinks into my brain. I'm running out of time, with no one available to be my reference. I try to focus on work, for the next few hours, I'm simply a waitress. Not someone’s daughter. Or someone’s wife. Just Roxana. Maria catches my attention from across the counter, she taps an invisible notebook w

RoxanaMarco doesn't press the call button; he doesn't have to. The phone stays suspended between us. Tristan’s name glows on the screen like a death sentence.My breathing becomes shallow, every instinct screams at me to snatch the phone from his hand and smash it against the wall.But I don't move. Because I know Marco. He wants me afraid; he wants me begging. He always has.A slow smile spreads across his face. “There she is. I was wondering when my obedient little girl would come back.”“I'm not your…”“You are,” he cuts me off so easily it feels as if my words never existed. “You will always be.”I shake my head. “No.”He laughs softly. “You’ve been gone for what...a week?”He looks around the tiny room. “And suddenly you think you’re someone else.” His gaze returns to me. “You’re still that frightened little girl who cried every time I raised my voice or touched her.”His fingers brush against my forearm, disgust shoots through me so intensely I almost stagger.My hand clenches

Roxana My chest tightens so painfully it hurts. The room feels both suffocating and hot—too full of him. Marco watches me with the patience of a man who already believes he has won. He no longer needs to shout. He no longer needs to threaten me. He has already destroyed the one thing keeping me alive. The lie. The lie that Tristan had bought me. The lie I clung to because hating him was easier than admitting I loved him. My knees threaten to give way again, and I grip the edge of the bed until my knuckles turn white. “You lied to me…you deceived me,” the words escape my mouth like a broken whisper. Marco shrugs, “I did.” “So many lives,” my voice cracks, “you destroyed so many lives…” His brow raises with nonchalance, “and?” Marco’s indifference makes something inside me splinter. I press my teeth against my lip so hard that it takes every ounce of self-control not to spit in his disgusting face. “You don't even care,” I mutter under my breath. “I care about winning,” his

RoxanaDaniel doesn't move. His eyes shift from Marco to the suited man behind him, then back to me. “Why did you lie to me?”My heart sinks. The rain pounds harder against the roof. Nobody breathes; silence stretches uncomfortably.Marco is the first to smile, smooth and relaxed—like he always is when deceiving people. “You must be Daniel.”Daniel’s brows knit together. “Do I know you?”Marco extends a hand as if they’ve met a hundred times before. “I'm Marco.”Daniel doesn't take it, instead keeps looking at me. “Roxana?”I can't answer. If I tell him the truth, Marco will call Tristan. If I lie, Daniel will walk away believing everything is fine.Marco notices my hesitation. Without anyone seeing, he lightly presses two fingers against the back of my neck—warning me.“Roxana invited me.” The lie sounds effortless.Daniel looks unconvinced. “You never mentioned family.”“I’m…,” he chuckles softly, “not exactly family. I knew her mother years ago.”My stomach twists. That’s another l