Todos los capítulos de He Wants An Open Marriage, But Demands My Loyalty : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

​The study fell into a suffocating silence, save for the crackle of the hearth and the rain beating against the high arched windows.​Ethan shifted instantly. Before Victoria Vance could take another sip of her scotch, his massive frame stepped cleanly in front of Vivian, blocking her completely from her aunt's cold, calculating gaze. The aura vibrating off him was pure, unadulterated hostility—a alpha predator marking his territory and defending his mate.​"Step back, Victoria," Ethan growled, his voice dropping into an octave so low it rattled the glass panes behind her. "You don't look at her. You don't speak her name."​Victoria’s manicured hand paused, her dark eyes flicking to Ethan’s chest before settling on his dark, murderous gaze. A slow, condescending smile curved her lips. "Always the bodyguard, Ethan. Even after five years of building an empire, you’re still standing between a Vance and her birthright."​Lucian didn't bother with words. He moved like a phantom around the l

The grand banquet hall fell dead silent.​A dozen elderly titans of industry—the voting board members of the Vance Foundation—sat frozen around the long, polished mahogany table. Whispers broke out like wildfire, eyes darting between Victoria Vance at the head of the podium and the four striking figures who had just shattered the room's decorum.​Victoria’s hands tightened against the edge of the wooden podium until her knuckles turned white. Her composed, aristocratic face flickered with a surge of genuine shock, but she recovered in a heartbeat, her eyes hardening into cold slits.​"Vivian," Victoria said smoothly, her voice amplified by the podium microphone. "You have no standing here. This is a private, emergency executive session. Security, escort them out."​Two uniformed Metropolitan Club guards stepped forward from the side doors.​They didn't make it two paces.​Ethan stepped into their path like a mountain of stone. He didn't raise a hand. He didn't utter a word. He simply g

​The sharp metallic hiss of the elevator doors hung heavy in the room.​Standing in the entryway, flanked by six armed enforcers, the half-brother let his cold, arrogant smirk broaden. His piercing gray eyes—distractingly similar to Alexander’s—locked onto Vivian behind Ethan’s massive frame.​"Hello, brothers," the man said, smoothing the front of his tailored Italian suit. "Father sent me to collect what's his... and to dispose of the distraction."​Ethan didn't flinch. He didn't shift an inch to reveal Vivian. Instead, he took one heavy step forward, his shadow engulfing the half-brother completely.​"Julian," Ethan said, his voice dropping into a register so low it vibrated through the floorboards. "You brought armed men into my home. That’s the last mistake you make on American soil."​Julian sneered, gesturing lazily toward the enforcers. "Father holds the primary power of attorney over Blackwood Global’s international trusts. I have the legal authority to seize this penthouse an

​"Subject: Eleanor Vance. Cryo-stasis heart rate stabilized."​The synthetic voice echoed off the glass walls of the executive office, sending a chilling tremor through Vivian’s limbs.​She stared at the projection screen in stunned disbelief. Her mother—the woman she had grieved for six grueling years, the woman whose alleged murder had bound her to Julien Thorne—was breathing on a live feed in a Swiss medical facility.​"She’s... alive?" Vivian whispered, her voice cracking under the sheer weight of the revelation. Tears blurred her vision as she reached toward the projection screen, her hand hovering over the image of Eleanor Vance’s face.​Ethan didn't hesitate. His broad chest pressed firmly against her back, his powerful arms pulling her flush against his body to keep her grounded. "I’ve got you, Vivian," he rumbled against her neck, his dark eyes fixed on the screen like a predator locking onto a target.​Alexander’s hands flew across his interface with terrifying speed. Lines o

​The private medical jet cut smoothly through the dark, snowy clouds high above the European Alps, tracing a direct trajectory toward Manhattan.​Inside the luxury cabin, the ambient lighting was dimmed to a soft, amber glow. In the master berth toward the rear of the plane, Eleanor Vance slept peacefully under heated blankets, her vital signs stable and monitored by a dedicated medical team.​In the forward lounge, Vivian sat wrapped in the folds of Ethan’s heavy wool coat, her head resting comfortably against his solid, unyielding shoulder. His large, scarred hand rested possessively over her hip, anchoring her to him. Across from them, Lucian swirled a glass of aged bourbon, his sharp blue eyes tracking the encrypted data feeds scrolling across Alexander’s tablet.​"Ground control reports our private airspace over New York is clear," Alexander stated, his voice calm and precise as he tapped the glass interface. "The Blackwood Penthouse has been fully swept and secured by our top-tie