جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 30

☠️Adrian☠️ The first thing I notice is her hand, curled protectively over her stomach, and the second is the fear that shines so brightly in her hazel eyes. Then everything else disappears—the leather interior of the Rolls Royce, the voice crackling through the intercom, the bodyguard outside, and the smell of vomit on my suit. It all fades away. Because somewhere inside my head, a door I buried eighteen years ago creaks open. Eighteen years earlier…… “Dad?” My voice is barely above a whisper, young and trembling. Silence greets me—a deep, suffocating silence—and I push the study door open softly. My gaze roams around the familiar room until it lands on my father. My feet dart further forward. “Dad, Mom said breakfast is……” The words die before they can fully form. My father sits behind his desk, his chair turned toward the window. For one ridiculous second, I think he’s asleep. “Dad?” I keep walking, not stopping until I'm standing so close to him. That’s when I see it—some

☠️Adrian☠️ The moment the Rolls-Royce glides to a stop in front of the bridal boutique, I don't move. Sophie is already reaching for the door handle, and one of my men opens it from outside. She climbs out without another word, pausing only to glance back at me. “Aren't you coming?” “Just a minute.” She shrugs. “Fine. Take your mysterious billionaire time.” The door closes behind her. I wait until she’s safely inside the boutique before looking at the man seated in the front passenger seat. “Damien.” He turns immediately. “Boss.” “What did you find?” A tablet appears in his hand. “We have completed a background check on Felix Harrison.” “Continue.” “The public record matches what we already knew. Harrison Group was incorporated twenty years ago. Rapid expansion began approximately eighteen years ago.” Eighteen years—the exact year my father died. The same year my family’s company was taken from us. My jaw tightens. “And before that?” Damien hesitates. “N

☠️Adrian☠️ The city falls behind me for the first time in days—no bodyguards surrounding my car, no convoy. No Damien barking instructions through an earpiece. Just me, the steady hum of the engine, and the address on a small piece of paper in the passenger seat. The old warehouse sits on the edge of the city, surrounded by abandoned factories that should have been torn down years ago. I turn off the engine and step out. The air smells of rain and rust. A single light flickers inside the building. So he came. I push open the metal door with a loud groan. The warehouse is nearly empty except for an old wooden table, two chairs, and an elderly man standing beside a dusty window. His hair has gone completely white, and his shoulders are slightly bowed. Time has been cruel. He turns slowly, our eyes meet, his face drains of color. “Anthony...” his voice cracks. I don't correct him. For a moment, I almost wish I were my father. He quickly wipes his eyes. “No...” he sh

☠️Adrian☠️ The churches have ways of making people believe promises last forever. I know better. The stained glass windows cast ribbons of colored light across the marble floor. White roses line both sides of the aisle, their scent mixing with candle wax and polished wood. Everything is spotless. Exactly as expected. I adjust the cuff of my jacket and glance at my watch. Ten minutes. Almost all the guests have arrived. Business partners, socialites, politicians. People who have spent their entire lives pretending to like each other. None of them interest me. My focus drifts across the church until it settles on the second row. Felix Harrison. He stands beside his wife, greeting guests with the same warm smile that fooled my father eighteen years ago. If I didn't know the truth, I might have believed it too. My jaw tightens. How many times had that smile hidden another betrayal? How many lives has it ruined? How many more would it ruin before I stopped him? “Boss.” Damien’s v

☠️Adrian☠️ What the fuck was that? The question repeats itself the moment we step out of the church. I kissed her. I fucking kissed her. Not because the guests expected it. Not because the priest told me to. But because for one reckless second, I forgot why I was standing at the altar. I don't make mistakes like that. Never. She’s nothing to me. Felix Harrison’s daughter for that matter. I pull open the rear door of the Rolls-Royce, and she enters with a smile on her face. Thanking another guest before finally settling in the car. I slide in myself and shut the door. Outside, the convoy begins to move. black SUVs surround us as we leave the church behind. I keep my eyes on the passing city. Refusing to look at her. She’s no longer Harrison. She’s Blackwood. My wife. A woman standing between me and Felix Harrison. The key to destroying everything that man spent eighteen years stealing. So why does that kiss feel nothing like strategy? My jaw tightens. The answer