Todos los capítulos de Resurrected Vengeance : Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

TahliaThe bass from the speakers hummed straight through the couch, sending tiny ripples across the surface of my pink champagne.Inside the private VIP lounge of L’Étoile, high above the wet streets of Zurich, the air smelled of expensive French perfume, sweet cigar smoke, and pure, unfiltered victory. Golden confetti lay scattered over the dark marble floor, catching the warm glow of the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.Around me, five of Zurich’s most influential socialite women were laughing, their diamond bracelets sparkling under the dim lights as they raised their flutes toward me."To Tahlia!" Chloe squealed, her eyes wide with excitement as she clinked her glass against mine. "The new undisputed queen of the Vance dynasty! We all knew it was only a matter of time before that depressed ghost was pushed out."I leaned back against the cushions crossing my legs with a soft, satisfied sigh. I wanted everyone to see me. I wanted the whole city to know that the throne

Kael The cold sea spray hit my face, mixing with the damp chill of the morning fog hanging over the docks. The air smelled of salt, rusted metal, and wet timber a sharp contrast to the sterile, leather scented rooms of Zurich I had escaped. Down here at the private marina tucked away along the rugged Australian coastline, the world was muffled by the thick white haze rolling off the Pacific. I stood on the pier, holding a heavy briefcase tightly against my side. Inside that case sat the original, physical land deeds to St. Judes the true documents stamped with my family’s wax crest, completely separate from the digital copies Banjo had coerced me into signing. Banjo possessed a piece of paper meant for public records; I held the foundational proof of sovereign ownership my mother had secured thirty years ago. A low, mechanical hum vibrated through the planks beneath my boots as a fifty foot sleek, dark hulled motor yacht slowly swung into its berth. Its engine purred with a dee

KaelI was flat on my stomach on the teak floorboards, coughing violently, my chest heaving as the boat rolled heavily to its port side.Above me, the wooden ceiling beams groaned and splintered under the immense pressure of the blaze. Bright, roaring flames licked across the ceiling, melting the plastic light fixtures and dropping liquid fire onto the rug only inches from my legs. The smell of burning diesel, scorched leather, and melting wires was overwhelming, turning the air into pure poison.I have to get out, my mind screamed through the pain. I can't die in this cage.My fingers were raw, scraped, and bleeding, but they were still locked around the handle of my father’s leather briefcase. I dragged it against my chest, pulling myself forward on my elbows across the wood. Every inch was a battle against my own failing strength. My vision blurred, dark spots dancing across the edge of my sight as oxygen rapidly vanished from the room.The main exit to the upper deck was entirely

Banjo I stood on the wet iron deck of the Australian Search and Rescue cutter, my heavy coat soaked through with sea spray. The early morning fog off the coast of St. Judes was cold enough to burn my lungs. The twin diesel engines of the cutter thrummed beneath my boots, a steady, depressing vibration that rattled straight up into my teeth.Thirty feet below us, in the black, freezing silt of the ocean floor, divers were sifting through what was left of my life."Mr. Vance," a voice called out behind me.I didn't turn around right away. I kept my eyes fixed on the churning gray water where the yellow marker buoys bobbed up and down. "Did they find anything else?" I asked. My voice sounded stripped and raspy.Inspector Miller, the local maritime officer in charge of the recovery operation, walked up beside me. He was a broad, weathered man with salt and pepper hair and a face carved by forty years of coastal wind. He looked tired. More than that, he looked like he wanted to be anywher

Banjo The constant roar of the private jet’s engines was the only sound inside the main cabin for fourteen long hours.I sat near the window, my tie undone, my jacket thrown lazily over the seat beside me. On the small wooden table in front of me sat the charred, melted gold ring.My thumb rubbed endlessly over the warped metal band, over and over until my skin turned red and raw. She was alive. The Magistrate’s words in that Zurich boardroom kept repeating inside my mind like a loud, erratic heartbeat. She wasn't ash at the bottom of the ocean. She was breathing. She was standing on her own two feet in an halfway across the world, systematically dismantling Baden Lawson's empire while I sat in the sky, helpless and completely blind.A heavy wave of nausea hit my stomach, for three years I had convinced myself that I understood Merinda. I thought she was just a broken girl from a fallen family, a quiet, inconvenient obligation I had to keep hidden in the west wing of my estate. I t