Todos los capítulos de Married to My enemy's son: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

I stood in the doorway of the small, dim room, my feet frozen to the floor, my heart pounding so loud I could barely hear anything else. The man sitting in the worn armchair across from me was a stranger and a ghost all at once. His face was etched with lines I didn't recognize, his hair thin and gray, his hands resting on his knees like he was holding himself together by sheer force of will. But his eyes—his eyes were the same. Warm, tired, full of a love I had spent years convincing myself had never really existed. He looked at me like I was the sun rising after a long, dark night. 'Hello, sweetheart.' The words echoed in my head, and I felt my knees buckle. I stumbled forward, my hands reaching out, and then I was falling into him, wrapping my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder. He smelled different—older, like dust and time—but underneath it all, there was still a trace of the man I remembered. His arms wrapped around me, tight and desperate. I felt his body

The silence in the room was absolute, pressing down on me like a physical weight. My mother stood in the doorway, her hands clasped in front of her like she was greeting guests at a dinner party, her smile warm and serene. She looked the same as she always had—the same gentle eyes, the same soft curve of her lips, the same familiar tilt of her head. But I saw her now. I saw the cold calculation behind her eyes, the satisfaction in her smile, the triumph of a predator who had finally cornered her prey. "Hazel," she said again, her voice soft and maternal. "Aren't you going to say hello?" I couldn't speak. The words were trapped somewhere in my throat, tangled up with all the rage and grief and disbelief that had been building inside me since the moment I had seen that photograph. I just stared at her, my hands clenched at my sides, my heart pounding so loud I could barely hear anything else. My father stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't get to do this. You don't

The door clicked shut behind my mother, and the sound of it was like a final nail in the coffin of everything I thought I knew. I stood there, frozen, staring at the empty space where she had been, the photo of Sarah still burned into my mind like a brand on my soul. Tied to a chair. Gagged. Tears streaming down her face. My little sister. The one I had promised to protect. The one I had failed. The silence in the room was suffocating, pressing down on my chest like a physical weight. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I could only see Sarah's face, her eyes wide with terror, her mouth stretched around a gag that silenced her screams. She was my baby sister. She was supposed to be safe. She was supposed to be far away from all of this. I had sent her to that school to protect her, to keep her out of the crossfire, to give her a chance at a normal life. And now she was in danger because of me. Because I had been too slow. Because I had been too blind. Because I had underestimated t

The iron gates groaned as they swung open, their rusted hinges screaming into the silence like a warning I chose to ignore. I stood there, my feet frozen to the ground, my heart pounding so loud I could barely hear anything else. The estate loomed before me, dark and imposing, its windows like hollow eyes staring down at me with a familiarity that made my skin crawl. I had walked through those gates a thousand times as a child, each time with a sense of dread, each time knowing that something terrible was waiting for me on the other side. But I had never walked through them like this—as a warrior, ready to face the monster who had created me. Damien's hand found mine, warm and steady, grounding me in the present. I felt his presence beside me, solid and unwavering, and I drew strength from it like a lifeline. "Together," he said, his voice low and fierce. "Together," I agreed. We moved through the shadows, following the map the nurse had given us, our footsteps silent against the g

The Ashes The car smelled like smoke and exhaustion. I sat in the back seat, Sarah's head resting on my shoulder, her fingers still wrapped around mine like she was afraid I would disappear if she let go. She hadn't spoken since we left the estate. Not a word. Just the occasional shuddering breath that told me she was still trapped in that room, still feeling the cold steel of the blade against her throat. I didn't push her. I just held her, my hand stroking her hair, my heart breaking with every silent tear that slipped down her cheek. Damien drove in silence, his eyes fixed on the dark road ahead, his jaw tight. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands gripped the steering wheel like he was holding himself together by sheer force of will. He had been quiet too, but his silence was different from Sarah's. His was the silence of a man who was waiting, watching, ready to act. I studied his reflection in the rearview mirror—the shadows under his eyes, the slight trem