Todos los capítulos de Contract With My Hidden Enemy : Capítulo 61 - Capítulo 68

The service stairs seemed to have no end. Every step sent an ache through my ribs, but I kept climbing. Julian stayed directly beside me, one hand holding my left hand without even daring to leave. Elias followed several steps behind us, his injured shoulder pressed tightly against his side. We didn’t even speak. The only sounds were our uneven breathing, the distant hum of the hospital generators, and the soft metallic click of Julian’s weapon every time he adjusted his grip. We hit the top of the stairwell silently. Through the small, reinforced glass panel on the heavy fire door, I could see the upper basement corridor. The air up here smelled of grease and damp that I started wondering how they stayed up here. Victor was pacing near the center bay, repeatedly checking his silver wristwatch. Silas was still pinned between the two mercenaries, his jaw set in a bloody line. He was waiting. "Elias’s timer hits zero in five seconds," Julian whispered in my ear, his ha

The gunshot blew through the boardroom like thunder, echoing off the glass and marble. Silas’s weight hit me hard, driving us both back against the cold tile of the doorway. The sheer force of his movement knocked the air straight out of my lungs. For a sickening second, the world tilted—the glare of the overhead lights, the smell of cordite, the desperate shout from the terminal monitors—all blurring into a sharp, suffocating blur. Then came the heavy thud of a body hitting the floor. It wasn't Silas. I scrambled up, my pulse roaring in my ears, my hands instinctively reaching for Silas’s jacket. He was on his knees beside me, a harsh gasp tearing from his throat, his secondary pistol smoking in his right hand. Across the room, Victor’s automatic weapon skittered across the polished marble, coming to a rest against the foot of the mahogany desk. Victor was on his back, clutching his chest, a dark, crimson stain spreading rapidly across his tailored shirt. His eyes were wide, fix

The heavy glass doors of Caelthorne Tower parted, and a wall of flashing cameras instantly exploded into light. A sea of journalists, news cameras, and global market correspondents pressed against the velvet ropes in the grand marble lobby. Whispers rippled through the crowd like wildfire as I stepped out into the light, my hand woven tightly into Silas’s. I wasn't wearing a hospital gown or the dark, protective tactical gear of the past few weeks. I wore a tailored, charcoal-grey suit—a coat cut with sharp, uncompromising lines that mirrored the ones my father used to wear. Beside me, Silas looked imposing in a dark wool suit, his broad shoulders squared, his left arm held tightly in a dark sling hidden beneath his jacket. Behind us walked Mary, Julian, Elias, Arthur, Elena, and Lena. For the first time in sixteen years, the Caelthorne family stepped into the public eye together, undivided and unbowed. Flashbulbs blinded us as we approached the main podium, where dozens of mic

Two years later, the estate smelled of rain and blooming jasmine, it wasn’t blood, gunsmoke, or copper. I stood on the glass-enclosed veranda overlooking the sprawling gardens, watching the heavy afternoon rain fall in steady sheets against the stone paths. The sky above was a soft, pale gray, casting a serene glow through the glass. From down the long, carpeted hall, the gentle, comforting cadence of real life filled the house. Lena and Elena were laughing over music in the sunroom, their voices bright and untainted by fear. In the main hall, Arthur and Mary were sitting together by the study fire, reading in a calm, unbroken silence that my mother had waited sixteen long, painful years to finally earn. Heavy, familiar arms wrapped around my waist from behind, bringing me back to the present. Silas pulled me flush against his broad chest, burying his face into the crook of my neck. His skin was warm, his breathing steady and slow against my collarbone. There were no weapons strapp