All Chapters of Resurrected Vengeance : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Kael’s POVThe Badrutt Grand Ballroom in Zurich was blinding. Crystal chandeliers hung low from the gilded ceiling, casting sharp, glittery light over the sea of high-society elites, foreign diplomats, and corporate titans. The air was thick with the scent of expensive champagne, heavy velvet, and suffocating hypocrisy.I stood near the entrance, smoothing down the fabric of my simple midnight-blue silk dress. It was elegant, but understated far too modest for an event where women wore fortunes around their necks."Table 24, ma'am," the usher said, barely glancing at me as he pointed toward the darkest corner of the room, right next to the kitchen doors.Table 24.The peripheral table reserved for minor press, forgotten donors, and unwanted guests.I didn't argue. I walked calmly across the polished hardwood, feeling the subtle prickle of eyes on my back. I could hear the hushed whispers rippling through the crowd like dry leaves in the wind."Is that her? Banjo Vance’s hidden wife?"

Kael’s POVThe grand hall fell into complete, suffocating silence. The name Kael Banking Syndicate hung in the air like an absolute death sentence to anyone in European finance.Banjo’s face froze. The murderous rage in his amber eyes instantly gave way to a cold, creeping confusion. "The Kael Syndicate? That’s impossible. They don't intervene in domestic corporate accounts unless"I didn't stay to hear the rest of his sentence.While Banjo stood paralyzed, still holding Tahlia in his arms as reporters scrambled to digest the news, I quietly turned around. I slipped past the shocked onlookers, stepped out into the freezing alpine night, and got into the back of the waiting estate car.An hour later, I was back in the warm, silent isolation of the Vance chalet in St. Moritz.The fire in the stone fireplace crackled softly, casting long, orange shadows across the high wood beamed ceiling. I sat on the plush sofa, wrapped in a thick wool blanket, staring blankly into the flames. My feet

Kael's POV I looked down at Banjo’s hands wrapped around my wrists. He was staring at me as if a ghost had suddenly taken my place on the sofa. "Who are you, Merinda?" he asked again, his voice cracking under the silence of the room. "What have you been hiding from me?" I didn't answer. The herbal tea Jarrah had given me was still weighing down my limbs, but the sharp pulse of adrenaline in my veins burned away the worst of the fog. Slowly, deliberately, I pulled my wrists from his grasp. "I'm tired, Banjo," I said, my voice barely a whisper, flat and drained of all feeling. "And you have a company to save." Before he could grab me again, I forced my legs to move. I stood up and walked toward the private master room of the chalet. He didn't follow me. I could feel his burning eyes piercing into my back, heavy with unanswered questions and a sudden, terrifying panic, but he stayed on his knees in front of the fire. I entered my bedroom, locking the door behind me. The quiet of

KaelI stared at Banjo through a wave of dizziness, my skin burning as if it were on fire. My hand trembled against my throat, which felt tighter by the second."Frame her?" I choked out, my voice barely a whisper. "Look at my skin, Banjo. I'm having a severe allergic reaction."Banjo didn't even reach out to help me. He just tossed the jar back onto the vanity, where it shattered with a loud crack."Tahlia has used that exact skincare line for years," he said, his voice flat, icy, and completely closed off. "She had no idea you were allergic but instead of simply not using it, you rubbed it all over your neck to make her look like a murderer right before an international dinner.""I didn't"A loud crash echoed from the floor below, followed by the terrible sound of breaking glass and a woman’s sharp, terrified scream.Banjo didn't hesitate. He turned and rushed down the staircase, leaving me alone in the bathroom, gasping for air as I scrubbed at my raw skin with a cold, wet cloth.I

KaelI didn't sleep a single second after hearing those voices. Every word Jarrah had ever spoken to me, every cup of warm tea, every gentle wipe of a damp cloth, every fatherly piece of advice was a lie. A sick, masterfully played game. I had thought he was my only ally in this city. In reality, he was the spider sitting in the center of the web, waiting for me to lower my guard so he could steal my father’s legacy right out from under me.By eight o'clock the next morning, a black corporate car was waiting at the front gates of the estate.Banjo’s head of security didn't even speak to me as he opened the rear door. He simply drove me into the bustling heart of Zurich, through the steel and glass financial district, and directly to the sixty story tower of Vance Enterprises.The elevators were private, rising silently to the top floor penthouse suite.When the doors slid open, I walked down the long corridor toward the double doors of Banjo’s executive suite. My skin was still slight