Lahat ng Kabanata ng Ashes of Love; Fire of Vengeance : Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

I do not waste any time.I rise slowly from my seat. The flat sandals I wear these days make almost no sound. They help keep my steps light.I move toward the corridor and stop at a point where no one can easily see me, leaning slightly to look ahead.Mr Shaw is still on the phone.His back is half turned to me. One hand is in his pocket, the other holding the phone tightly against his ear. Even from here, I can tell he is angry. His shoulders are stiff, and every few seconds his jaw clenches. Though he is saying something sharply to the person on the other end, I do not try to listen.I slip away through the side corridor instead.Stella tells me the restroom is three corridors down.By the time I find it, my pulse is already beating too fast. Outside the restroom, a janitor in uniform is wiping down the wall tiles with slow, tired movements. I lower my head, walk past, and step inside.The restroom is empty.Ever since I have become pregnant, I need to use the bathroom often. So I h

My stomach drops so fast it feels like the ground shifts beneath me.Outside the restroom, footsteps stop. Not one person. Several. The faint crackle of a radio slips through the door, followed by the soft rustle of fabric and the measured, controlled movements of people who are not wandering but searching.I turn my head toward Adrian. He is already looking at the door.Something in his face changes. The warmth disappears. His jaw tightens, his eyes sharpen, focused and alert.“You need to go now,” I say, my voice low but firm. My fingers curl slightly at my sides, trying to hide how much they are shaking.He does not answer immediately. He bites down on his lower lip, brows drawn together, thinking fast.A few seconds pass, though it feels longer.“Can you stall him?” he asks quietly, lifting his eyes to mine. “For five minutes?”I hesitate. My throat feels dry. “Yeah… maybe,” I say, though the uncertainty slips through. I shake my head slightly and add, “But Mr Shaw doesn’t trust a

I stay like this the whole way, my body stiff against the seat. Mr Shaw’s hand moves slowly over my side, his fingers lingering longer than they should. I keep my eyes shut and say nothing. My throat feels tight, and even breathing feels like effort.The moment the car stops at the entrance of Shaw Mansion, I push the door open and step out almost too quickly. I don’t even look back at Mr Shaw. If I stay inside that car with him for even a second longer, I feel like something inside me will break.My whole body is shaking, but I force myself to walk as fast as I can. By the time I reach my room, the nausea rises sharply. I rush into the bathroom and drop beside the commode, barely managing to lean forward before everything comes up. My stomach twists painfully. There is nothing solid left, but my body keeps forcing out whatever it can. Even the little water in my system comes out.My throat burns. My eyes sting. I sit there on the cold floor, back against the wall, arms resting limply

(Damien’s P.O.V.) The meeting runs for almost three hours.I check my watch three times. Not out of impatience. Out of calculation.Each time my wrist shifts, Sterling notices.He sits across from me, leaning slightly back in his chair, fingers loosely interlocked over his lap. His eyes track me without trying to hide it. Curious. Alert. Waiting.I ignore him and return my attention to the discussion.The air inside the conference room feels dense, layered with quiet authority and restrained tension. A faint hum from the ventilation system blends with the low, measured voices around the table. No one speaks casually here. Every word is deliberate.Today’s agenda is defence procurement. Controlled acquisitions. Sensitive decisions. The President has assigned the responsibility directly to my department, which means every word in this room carries weight beyond paperwork. Sterling’s division is here for legal alignment, and nothing moves forward without his approval.No one here is car

I spend the night tossing and turning through the sheets, too tired to stay awake and too restless to truly sleep.My mind refuses to quiet, returning again and again to thoughts I cannot escape.When sleep finally comes, it is thin and uneasy, broken apart by nightmares vivid enough to leave a stain behind.In the morning, I wake with the tiredness still inside me, as though I have been fighting something all night instead of resting. Everything feels heavier, not just my body, but my thoughts too.I glance at the clock, knowing it’s the time Mr Shaw typically has breakfast. I pull myself up from the bed, hoping to find him in the dining hall, even though a sinking feeling tells me it’s unlikely.The dining hall is empty. Not a soul in sight.Maria sees me standing in the doorway and immediately pulls out a chair.“Miss Smith, did you not sleep well?” she asks gently, her eyes searching mine, as if she’s waiting for me to confide in her.I shake my head, still feeling the heaviness o