The Billionaire’s Blood Debt: Ruined by My Enemy のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 71 - チャプター 80

Elowen's POV We stayed at the gala for twenty minutes. Just long enough to stand near the main stairs, to let a couple of photographers catch the white suit under the chandeliers, and to let the room see my hand resting on his sleeve. We didn't talk to anyone. Killian gave Marcus a single nod across the crowd, and five minutes later we were outside, stepping into the cold and damp of the courtyard. The car was already waiting, doors open. The partition went up before we'd even cleared the gates, sealing us off from the driver in black glass. The silence in the back seat wasn't peaceful. It sat there with us, heavy, still full of everything Kateryna had left behind in that corridor. Killian leaned back against the leather, his face cut into sharp lines and shadow every time a streetlight passed. He didn't try to explain anything. He didn't try to close the small g

Elowen POV The private elevator doors opened with a quiet sigh, and I stepped into the penthouse. The air felt heavier in here — cedar wood mixed with the sharp chill coming off the tall glass windows. Outside, the storm was still raging, but inside it was just us and the low, constant hum of Leo’s ventilator down the hall. That sound grounded me. It reminded me what this whole thing was really about. Killian stood at the liquor console, back turned. His coat was already off, shirtsleeves rolled up to show those strong forearms. He didn’t bother turning around when my heels clicked across the stone. “Marcus said you left before eight,” he said, voice calm like he was checking the weather. “I went to Madison Avenue,” I answered, stopping a few feet behind him. My wet coat still hung heavy on my shoulders. “I met Kateryna.”&

Elowen's POV The screen went dark, but nothing about what I'd just seen made any more sense in the dark than it had in the light. Before six, Killian stood in the foyer and told me Kateryna was nobody. Ten minutes later, Marcus told me an emergency had pulled him out of the house. At six twelve, a photo showed up on my phone of the two of them sitting together at The Grill. I stayed in the chair next to Leo until almost eight. I didn't call the number back. I didn't answer the text. I just sat there in the green light of the monitors, watching my brother breathe, until my own heartbeat finally slowed down to match his. Whatever heat Killian had left under my skin earlier that evening was gone completely. What replaced it was quieter. Colder. Steadier, somehow, than I expected. I kept thinking about the way he'd looked at me in the foyer, so c

Elowen's POV I left the penthouse at half past eight, before Killian had finished his second call of the morning, before Marcus could ask where I was headed, before I'd fully decided what I was going to say when I got there. I didn't take the Maybach. I stood on the corner two blocks from the building and hailed a car like anyone else, watching my own breath fog in front of me while I waited. The morning hadn't burned off yet. Everything past the second row of buildings was just gray shape and guesswork. The hotel was the kind of quiet that costs money. Stone floors, low music, a doorman who didn't look at me twice. I found her exactly where I somehow knew she'd be, corner table, window seat, a full cup of tea she had no intention of drinking. She saw me coming and didn't move. Didn't sit up straighter, didn't reach for her coat, didn't do any of the things a person does when they're

Elowen's POV The next hour and a half moved faster than anything I'd lived through in months. Killian's phone didn't stop. Calls came in one after another—lawyers, a communications director I'd never met, someone from the bank asking questions he answered in clipped, one-word sentences. Twice, Marcus stepped into the study just to relay something from the front desk downstairs: reporters already gathering outside, a producer requesting comment. Killian ignored all of it, standing by the window with his phone against his ear, giving nothing away. By noon, the story wasn't just online anymore; it was on two of the morning shows. The anchors were saying words like allegations and unconfirmed with the particular caution of people who wanted to say more than they legally could. I watched it happen from the study couch, my own phone buzzing every few minutes with headlines I didn't have the stomach to re