บททั้งหมดของ Velvet Chains : บทที่ 101 - บทที่ 110

Silencing the WitnessesOkafor's call came through at eleven-forty, her voice tight with barely controlled fury as Damian answered on speaker, Vivienne and Nathaniel both leaning in close.Priya Mehta was attacked in her holding cell approximately forty minutes ago, she said, no preamble. A guard we've since confirmed had no legitimate reason to be on that block let someone into her cell during a supposed routine transfer. She's alive. Barely. She's in surgery now.Conti, Damian said hoarsely, the word landing like a physical blow.That's my read, Okafor said grimly. Which means he's reached inside a federal detention facility, with considerably more sophisticated infrastructure than we've credited him with, even after everything else we've learned. A pause, tight with urgency. Damian, if he's willing to silence one cooperating witness this brazenly, we have to assume he's coming for the others tonight, while everyone's attention was pulled toward your gala.Marcus Doyle, Vivienne sai

Blackwater CoveThe drive from the airport took nearly two hours, the coastal road narrowing steadily into something wilder and more forgotten with every passing mile, fog rolling thick and gray off the Atlantic as Reyes finally pulled into what remained of Blackwater Cove, a scattering of weathered buildings, half of them boarded shut, a single working dock where two fishing boats sat moored against the tide. This place barely exists anymore, Vivienne said, staring out at the desolate main street, salt-eaten and silent. How does anyone even live here? About forty year-round residents, according to the last census, Reyes said, checking his phone as they parked outside the town's single general store. Most of them elderly. It's the kind of place people leave, not the kind of place people come to. The store's owner, a weathered woman in her seventies named Edith, studied them with the particular wariness small towns reserved for strangers asking careful questions. Cross family, she said

GoneRichard was gone by morning. Vivienne noticed it first: the guest room door standing open, the bed neatly made, a folded note sitting on the pillow where Margaux found it just after seven, her hands shaking as she read it aloud to the rest of the household gathered anxiously around the kitchen table.I cannot sit safely inside these walls while my son believes, even for one more day, that nobody in this family is willing to look him in the eye and simply say I'm sorry. I know exactly how dangerous this is. I am going anyway. I owe him that much, whatever it costs me. Please don't follow me. If there's any chance at all of reaching whatever's left of the boy I abandoned, it has to happen without an army of security standing behind me. I love you all. I hope this doesn't turn out to be the last foolish thing I ever do. He's going to get himself killed, Damian said, already moving, already dialing Reyes with hands that weren't quite steady. Reyes, my father's missing. Left something

Turning the Hunt AroundThree weeks passed before Richard was well enough to travel home. In that time, Vivienne watched something shift in the entire family's exhausted, grief-worn resolve, a quiet, deliberate turning point, the moment a group of people who'd spent months simply surviving finally decided they were done merely reacting. We stop waiting for him to come to us, Damian said, standing at the head of the conference table in Reyes's office, Nathaniel seated beside Okafor, Colleen participating by secure video link from her own protective custody, everyone who'd survived Alexander Cross's decade of careful cruelty finally gathered around a single, unified purpose. We go find him. On our terms, not his. Easier said than accomplished, Nathaniel said, though something sharper and more focused had settled into his voice since Blackwater Cove: the careful, patient expertise of a man finally, fully committed to dismantling the very architecture he'd once helped build. He's spent th

The RaidDamian woke to an empty bed and a note that turned his entire body to ice.Reyes! He was already moving, already dialing, his hands shaking so violently he nearly dropped the phone twice. Reyes, pick up, pick up.Damian? Reyes's voice came through, groggy, confused. It's five in the morning, what?Is the raid still scheduled? Damian said, his voice cracking with barely controlled panic. The Adirondack property. Is it still moving forward at dawn? Of course, exactly like we planned last night. Vivienne's there, Damian said, the words tearing out of him like something physical. She left in the middle of the night. Alone. She's inside that cabin right now, and your team is about to breach it. He checked the clock, horror crashing through his chest, twelve minutes. The line went dead silent for one terrible second before Reyes's voice snapped back, sharp and urgent. I'm calling it off. Right now. Stay on the line. But the radio silence that followed, the frantic, garbled cross-t