Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 121 - Chapitre 130

Jeremy’s POVI stood by my truck door, my hand frozen on the handle, staring at the metallic-purple Lamborghini idling in front of my driveway. The headlights cut through the evening mist, washing the concrete in a harsh, neon glare.Lillian stood next to the open scissor door, her designer heels clicking against the pavement as she smoothed down her tight dress. She looked like she had just stepped off a fashion runway, complete with a soft, practiced smile that didn't reach her eyes."What the hell are you doing at my house, Lillian?" I rasped, my voice thick with exhaustion and pure venom."Is that any way to greet me, Jeremy?" Lillian purred, tilting her head. "I drove all the way out here.""I asked you a question," I said, taking two slow steps toward her, keeping my distance. "Anna was dragged off this campus in handcuffs three hours ago. My estate is not a hotel, and it damn sure isn't a playground for you."Lillian blew out a soft breath, rolling her eyes as if I was being dr

Anna’s POVThe valet driveway of the Oakridge Country Club looked like a high-end exotic car showroom by the time our convoy pulled up.Jeremy’s midnight-black, lifted Ford F-250 led the line, followed immediately by Marcus’s sleek, brand-new Porsche, and Noah’s sports coupe right behind us. The headlights sliced through the cool night air, drawing the immediate attention of the valet drivers and alumni hanging around the entrance.Before Jeremy could even put the truck in park, Marcus swung his car door open and stepped out onto the asphalt with a professional camera rig mounted on a stabilizer."Hold right there, Anna!" Marcus called out, raising the lens as Jeremy walked around to open my passenger door. "Give me a slight turn to the left—yes! Just like that! Seventy million people are waiting on this reel tonight!"I couldn't help but laugh, stepping down in my emerald-green satin backless gown while holding onto Jeremy’s hand. I glanced down at my phone screen for a split second

Anna’s POV One week after signing my twelve-million-dollar global supercar contract in Signor Rossi’s executive office, I stood in the front row of the private VIP suite at Hard Rock Stadium. The stadium was an absolute sea of roaring fans. Sixty-five thousand people were on their feet, screaming, waving orange and turquoise towels, making the floor beneath my high heels tremble. I was wearing a custom white crop top with Jeremy’s number seven printed in gold glitter across the chest, paired with black leather pants and a matching gold jacket. "Anna, look at the screen!" Noah shouted beside me, taking a huge bite of his hot dog before pointing wildly at the jumbotron. "Thirty seconds left on the clock! We're down by four points!" "Marcus, stop pointing that lens at my face!" I laughed nervously, my heart pounding like a drum in my throat. "Watch the game!"

Anna’s POV My hands shook so violently the phone almost slipped from my grip again. UNKNOWN NUMBER: Enjoy your little victory, Anna. It won’t last.UNKNOWN NUMBER: You think you’ve won? This is only the beginning. Watch your back, Queen Spears. I didn't waste a single second. I snatched the phone off the counter, tapped Marcus’s name on my speed dial, and brought the speaker to my ear, my chest heaving with shallow, panicked breaths. "Anna? What's up, boss?" Marcus answered on the second ring, his voice cheerful over the background noise of clicking camera lenses. "I'm just editing the footage from the game—" "Marcus, get over here right now," I choked out, trying to keep my voice steady. "Bring Noah. Right now." "Anna? What happened? Are you okay?" "Just get to the penthouse," I whispered, staring down at the

Anna’s POV "Anna, do not step out there!" Marcus hissed from behind the stage curtain, grabbing my arm so hard his fingers dug into my sleeve. "It’s a live broadcast ambush! They set this up to turn you into a national spectacle! We're walking back to the cars right now!" "If I turn around and walk out those doors, Marcus," I said softly, pulling my arm out of his grip, "every news network in the country will report that Queen Spears ran away because she knew her boyfriend was guilty." "Anna, look at the stage!" Noah warned, stepping up beside me in his dark suit. "She’s got a microphone, a live audience, and a national host. It's a circus." "Then it’s time to tame the circus," I replied, unbuttoning the cuffs of my black jumpsuit and rolling them up once. "Stay by the stage doors. Keep your cameras rolling." I stepped out from behind the heavy velvet curt