Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 21 - Chapitre 30

The door slammed behind her.Elena stood in the dark. Not the soft dark of a bedroom at night. This was absolute. Black that pressed against the eyes. Broken glass crunched under her shoes. The air stank of sweat, old blood, and something chemical—maybe the sedatives the last three doctors had tried before they ran.A shape moved.Huge.She kept her voice steady. Professional. The way she had practiced in the car on the way here.“Mr. Rossi. I’m Dr. Elena Voss. I’ve reviewed your file. We need to establish a baseline—”The shape unfolded.Marco came out of the corner like something that had been waiting too long. Six-foot-five of ruined muscle and no sleep. One hundred and four hours. His eyes caught what little light leaked under the door and threw it back wrong. Pupils blown. Jaw locked so hard the tendons stood out like cables.She took one step closer, the way the protocol said. Fingers out, ready for the radial pulse.He moved.Not a lunge she could track. One second he was acros

Afternoon light cut through the heavy curtains in hard white bars. The master suite stayed locked. Outside the reinforced door, guards shifted and waited. Inside, the air smelled of sex, sweat, and the faint metallic edge that never quite left Marco Rossi.He had dressed only enough for the call. Black trousers. Nothing else. Elena stood near the wide bed wearing one of his black silk shirts and nothing underneath. The fabric hung to mid-thigh on her, sleeves rolled once, the front left open because he had ordered it that way. He had taken every piece of her clinical clothing—coat, blouse, pants, even the practical bra—and thrown them into a sealed bag to be burned.“They smell like the outside,” he had said. Voice flat. Final. “You don’t wear the outside in here.”She had not argued.Now he paced while the phone stayed pressed to his ear. The man on the other end spoke too long. Marco’s free hand flexed once.“Enough.” The single word cut the line of excuses. “You had the shipment. Y

The door was still warm from their bodies.Marco carried her the few steps to the ruined mattress without pulling free. The springs protested under their combined weight as he lowered them both. Elena’s back met the tangled sheets. His suit jacket was half-off, trousers open, the rest of him still fully dressed and already hard again inside her.She pushed at his shoulders.He went willingly, rolling onto his back. The second his spine hit the mattress she climbed over him, knees bracketing his hips, completely bare. Moonlight through the cracked shutters painted the hard lines of his chest and the open black silk still crushed in the pocket of his jacket. Marco’s hands settled on her thighs and stayed there, waiting. His eyes never left her face. The lethal stillness he wore for the rest of the world had cracked open into something raw and starving.Elena reached down, wrapped her fingers around the thick base of him, and guided the head to her entrance. She sank down slowly.The str

Chapter 27 “Only Him”The elevator descended in silence.Elena stood beside Marco in the narrow steel cage, still wearing only his black silk shirt and nothing underneath. The air grew colder with every floor. When the doors opened, the underground armory stretched out in front of them—concrete floors, rows of heavy rifles locked in steel racks, the sharp scent of gun oil and solvent. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. The temperature dropped another few degrees.Marco walked ahead of her without looking back. He stopped at a low workbench, opened a drawer, and turned. In his palm sat a ring. The metal was dark with dried blood. A small, familiar crest was still visible on the band.Elena’s breath stopped.That ring had belonged to her handler. The man who had given her the assignment, the extraction codes, the promise that the organization would pull her out once the intel was secured.Marco held it out. She took it. The blood had dried in the engraved grooves.“I knew the first nig

The lock turned hard behind them.Marco leaned against the closed door of the master suite, one hand pressed to the left side of his torso. Blood had already soaked through the black fabric of his shirt in a wide, dark patch. The cut was deep—knife work from the ambush that had waited for him on the lower service road. His men had wanted to call the estate doctor. He had refused. The static had flickered once at the edge of his vision when the blade went in, and the only person he would allow near him was the woman already standing in the room.Elena moved without speaking.She pulled the first-aid kit from the bathroom cabinet, the same one she had inventoried days ago when she still pretended this was a medical assignment. Marco sat on the edge of the ruined mattress and let her cut the shirt away. The wound ran in a clean, angry line across the lower ribs. Not arterial. Not fatal. But deep enough that blood still welled with every breath.She cleaned it with antiseptic that made th