Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 31 - Chapitre 40

The next morning, the sun broke over the estate in quiet shades of blue and soft yellow. I woke up at nine o'clock, just as we had agreed the night before. For the first time in months, my body didn't ache with that deep, bone-dry exhaustion that usually made getting out of bed feel like a punishment. Sitting up slowly, I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress and let out a long, quiet breath. My stomach felt settled. The heavy cloud of anxiety that had stayed pinned to my chest for half a year seemed to have lost its sharp edge. By the time I showered, dressed in a loose blue button-down shirt and tailored trousers, and went downstairs, the estate was entirely peaceful. Ares was already sitting in the dining room, dressed in a sharp charcoal suit, reviewing international trade reports on his tablet with a steaming mug of tea beside his hand. He looked up as I walked into the room. His dark eyes scanned my face carefully, taking in my posture and the clear

The quiet domestic peace we had built over the last few days shattered at precisely eleven o'clock on Thursday morning. I was sitting at the head of the conference table on the executive floor, reviewing the final figures for the European port integration. Ares sat to my left, leaning back in his chair with a pen resting loosely between his fingers, while Miller walked us through the second-quarter tax projections. Everything was smooth, routine, and predictable. Then the glass doors of the conference room burst open. "Mr. Vane, I am so sorry, I tried to stop him—" my head receptionist began, her face pale as she rushed into the room behind a tall, broad-shouldered man in a crumpled grey suit. My breath locked in my throat. The pen in Ares' hand snapped clean in two with a sharp, dry pop. It was Damon Sterling. He looked nothing like the polished, untouchable corporate titan who had tried to bankrupt my family's legacy three months ago. His hair was messy

The rest of the afternoon passed in a quiet, golden blur. After changing into a pair of soft lounge pants and a loose dark shirt, I settled onto the living room sofa, propping a couple of pillows behind my back. My body felt surprisingly light, as if the dramatic confrontation with Damon in the conference room had drained the very last lingering traces of stress from my system. Ares came out of the kitchen a few minutes later carrying a tray with two bowls of warm chicken broth, steamed vegetables, and two mugs of hot tea. He set the tray down on the coffee table, handing me a mug before taking his seat right beside me. "The kitchen staff prepared something light," Ares said, watching me carefully as I took a small sip of the tea. "Dr. Miller called ten minutes ago to check in. She heard about the incident at the office." I groaned softly, resting my mug in my lap. "Miller moves fast. I explicitly told her I was fine." "She is your physician, Julian," Ares re

The estate study felt smaller than usual in the dead of night. The heavy curtains were pulled shut, blocking out the quiet courtyard outside. Two dark laptop screens sat side by side on the long desk, glowing with red and blue lines of code as an independent cybersecurity team ran an encrypted forensic audit through Vane Corp’s server logs. I paced back and forth near the sofa, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. A dull, stubborn ache flared in my lower back, but I refused to sit down. My stomach was in tight knots, the bitter taste of fear and betrayal lingering in the back of my throat. Ares sat behind the desk, his broad shoulders squared, his eyes fixed on the live data feed. He hadn't removed his jacket, nor had he offered to pour us drinks. His presence was an unyielding wall of absolute focus. "How much longer?" I asked, my voice cutting sharply through the quiet room. "They are running the final signature match now," Ares answered, his deep voice cal

The morning sun washed through the tall windows of the estate bedroom in a quiet, pale gold light. I woke up late, well past nine o'clock, resting on my side under the thick duvet. My body felt surprisingly heavy, but for the first time in months, it wasn't the bitter weight of anxiety or bone-deep exhaustion. The persistent ache in my lower back had eased into a mild, dull thrum, and my stomach felt entirely calm. I turned my head slowly across the pillow. Ares was sitting in the armchair near the corner of the room, his long legs crossed, dressed in a soft grey sweater and dark trousers. He had a stack of legal documents resting on his lap, but his tablet was sitting dark on the small side table. The moment my eyes opened, his gaze shifted from the papers straight to my face. "How are you feeling?" Ares asked, setting the folder aside and standing up to walk over to the edge of the bed. "Rested," I answered, my voice still raspy from sleep as I pushed mysel