Todos los capítulos de Her Alpha’s Kryptonite: Capítulo 91 - Capítulo 100

Jasmine’s POVThe notification entered while I was standing beside Tristan in the operations room.The ambushed route had been confirmed. The information we had deliberately allowed into the system had worked exactly as intended. The truck moving along that route had never carried anything valuable. It was bait positioned so that anyone acting on the compromised data would expose themselves the moment they came after it.I watched the monitor as the operation updated in real time.The map showed our empty truck surrounded by syndicate operatives. They had walked directly into the trap. For a moment Tristan said nothing, his hand settled against the back of my chair almost without thought as he studied the screen. I noticed the gesture and did not comment on it. The important fact was simpler, the trap had worked. The people who came for the truck had been caught.Two of the operatives were brought into the Apex basement.Tristan entered the room alone, the door closed behind him, and

Jasmine’s POVAbe turned the third folder around so that everyone at the table could see it.He opened it carefully, the way he handled evidence that cost someone something to obtain, and placed a single photograph in the center of the polished surface. The conference room was quiet enough that I heard the soft slide of the paper against the wood. Tristan stood near the head of the table. I sat where I could reach the photograph without stretching. The air still carried the residual tension of the earlier folders—the old pack records, the Prague connection, the growing sense that Garth Fontaine had been moving pieces for longer than any of us had been paying the right kind of attention.I looked down.The man in the photograph was younger. The years had not yet settled into the colder patience I associated with the name we had pulled from the basement. But there was no mistaking him, he still had the same structure of the face, the same controlled set of the mouth. Garth Fontaine, dec

Jasmine’s POVI returned to the old apartment.It was the first night I had spent away from Tristan’s penthouse since Marc and I had moved there, and the decision had not been about safety in the first place, Jeff still knew where I was. The detail had been adjusted, not abandoned. What I needed was the familiar space itself, the same rooms where I had made decisions about Marc before Tristan, before the pack, before Garth Fontaine and the Obsidian Circle and a prophecy fragment in an archival sleeve had become part of the air we breathed. I needed the quiet of a place that had held us when the threats were still unnamed and the only strategy was endurance.Most of all, I needed Marc’s room.I sat on the floor with my back against the wall, knees drawn toward my chest, and watched my son sleep under the soft glow of the nightlight he had always insisted to keep on. The light was a low amber that did not reach the corners of the room, it only caught the edge of the blanket and the dark

Jasmine’s POVI was waiting outside the school when Marc came out, and Madeline was with me.She had not announced an intention to join the pickup. She had simply been in the conversation long enough that walking with me to the gate felt like a continuation rather than an intrusion. I had not objected, after the break-room questions and the careful partial answers, part of me wanted to see what she did when she eventually gets close.Marc noticed her almost immediately.He walked over with the serious expression he wore whenever he met an adult for the first time and had decided the person deserved his full attention. He stopped in front of Madeline and extended his hand.“Hello.”There was something so formal about the gesture that I smiled. Six years old and already new how to make introductions properly. Madeline, however, did not laugh or fold the moment into the soft voice adults often used with children. She matched his seriousness completely. She took his hand, shook it with th

Jesse’s POVThe message from Garth arrived through a private channel I had never used before, that alone was enough to make me sit still in the middle of my kitchen at three in the morning with every light in the apartment on. I had assumed the communication lines between us were limited to the channels I already monitored and controlled, but I was wrong. Garth knew how to reach me in a way that bypassed every layer I had built for myself. I opened the message and read it once, then I read it again.There was nothing complicated in the language. The operation had been compromised. The syndicate knew someone had been feeding them false information, and my position had become a liability. Garth did not accuse me by name in so many words, but every line carried the same meaning. A compromised source was only useful if he could still produce something valuable enough to justify the risk of keeping him alive.Then he gave me the way out, delivering the boy.I remained seated with the ligh