บททั้งหมดของ The Bride In The Wrong Wedding : บทที่ 81 - บทที่ 90

The searing white circle in the center of the titanium vault door expanded with terrifying speed. Molten metal dripped onto the concrete, instantly igniting into pools of hissing, chemical fire. The ambient temperature in the collapsed bunker violently skyrocketed, rapidly turning the sealed, blood-red tomb into a suffocating oven. "She is through the first layer!" Nikolai roared, throwing his jacket completely over Leo to shield the boy from the blinding, radioactive sparks shooting across the room. "We have sixty seconds before she breaches the deadbolts!" Isabella aggressively ripped the thick IV needle from her own arm, tossing the blood-filled tubing onto the rubble. She ignored the sickening, violent wave of vertigo that crashed over her, pressing her bloody hands to Julian's face. The King was awake. He didn't look like a saved man; he looked like a resurrected demon. The transfusion had given him just enough of Isabella’s blood to pull him from the absolute edge of the aby

"Shoot him in the head and take the drive from her hands." The man in the pristine black overcoat didn't shout. He issued the catastrophic execution order with the bored, administrative lethargy of a banker closing an overdrawn account. The dozen pitch-black operatives advanced across the jagged, frost-covered shore, their suppressed rifles raising in terrifying unison. The crimson laser sights cut through the blinding Alpine blizzard, locking directly onto Julian’s forehead. Isabella didn't scream. She didn't cower behind her dying husband. Driven by pure, unadulterated matriarchal hellfire, she lunged forward, throwing her bruised, freezing body completely over Julian. She raised her right hand high into the blinding white light of the hovering VTOL aircraft, the titanium encryption drive locked securely in her bleeding fist. "Take one more step, and this drive goes straight to the bottom of the lake!" Isabella roared, her voice tearing through the howling wind. The man in th

The heavy titanium chair groaned in the pressurized interrogation cell as Isabella violently drove the eight-inch combat knife directly through the center of Secretary Thorne’s left hand, pinning it completely to the steel table.Thorne’s aristocratic composure shattered into a raw, blood-curdling shriek that bounced off the soundproof bulkheads of the Vanguard submarine.Isabella didn't flinch. She leaned over the table, her dark eyes completely hollow, reflecting the harsh fluorescent light of the brig. She had stripped off her ruined wedding dress, now wearing a pitch-black Vanguard tactical uniform that hung loosely over her bruised frame."I am going to ask you one time, Thorne," Isabella whispered, her voice a freezing, absolute current of freon. "Where does the Directorate hold its primary assembly in Washington?""Go to hell!" Thorne gasped, his body convulsing in absolute agony, fresh crimson pooling around the steel blade.Isabella calmly wrapped her fingers around the knife

"Blow the explosive bolts!" The deafening, apocalyptic crack of shattering titanium violently severed the escape pod from the dying nuclear submarine. Isabella didn’t have time to scream as four thousand pounds of pressurized air aggressively launched the cylindrical steel capsule directly upward into the pitch-black abyss. The kinetic force was catastrophic. Gravity slammed against Isabella’s chest, violently crushing her deep into the five-point tactical harness. Beside her, Julian let out a dark, feral grunt, his massive, bruised hand blindly finding hers in the red emergency lighting of the pod and locking his fingers in an unbreakable, iron grip. "Ninety seconds to surface!" Julian roared over the terrifying, metallic shriek of the pod tearing through the ocean column. His stormy gray eyes were complete blown out, swimming in liquid adrenaline and absolute, predatory focus. Isabella gritted her teeth, ignoring the violent, sickening cramp twisting deep in her abdomen. The bi

The deafening silence between Isabella and Julian completely drowned out the roaring turbines of the Vanguard VTOL. He held the heavy eight-inch combat knife, a weapon he had used to slaughter hundreds without a second thought, yet his massive, blood-slicked hand violently trembled. He was staring at the pale, bruised flesh of his Queen’s stomach, entirely paralyzed by the apocalyptic terror of becoming her butcher."Julian, cut me!" Isabella shrieked, her spine bowing aggressively off the steel floor as a catastrophic wave of necrotic agony tore through her abdomen. Black, toxic blood spilled over her lips. "If you do not cut this out of me right now, you kill your heir! You kill our empire!"The apex predator’s stormy gray eyes shattered. He didn't argue. He didn't hesitate anymore. The King of the underworld ruthlessly suffocated his own humanity, locking his soul away in a vault of pure, unadulterated sovereign necessity."Hold her down," Julian snarled to the two Vanguard surgeon