Todos los capítulos de Resurrected Vengeance : Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

Banjo The Sydney penthouse was completely silent, except for the heavy rain lashing against the fglass windows.I sat on the edge of the unmade king sized bed, staring at the glass coffee table in the center of the room. Resting right in the middle of it was the small, black detonator switch I had taken from the wooden pier, its tiny red light blinking in the dark. Beside it lay Merinda’s charred, twisted wedding ring.My mind was a violent, spinning mess. Merinda was alive. She had destroyed my boat, faked her death, and cornered Baden Lawson in a single, flawless trap. She had looked into that camera with eyes so cold they froze me in place and the detonator what was it for? What was she going to blow up next? My company? My life?A soft knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts.Before I could speak, the door clicked open. Arthur, my security coordinator, stepped inside, looking extremely uncomfortable."Sir," Arthur murmured, keeping his voice low. "She insisted on coming u

BanjoThe rain had finally stopped, I sat alone behind my desk, staring at the small key Merinda had shown me across the street at her memorial. The image of her standing beneath that umbrella, her eyes as cold and unforgiving as ice, was burned into the back of my eyelids. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her dropping that white lily into the gutter.She was coming for my empire and she had my father's master vault key.My thoughts got cut by a soft knock on the door, "Enter," my throat raw from days of endless tiredness and whisky that did nothing to dull the sharp ache in my chest.The doors creaked open, and Jarrah stepped into the room.I froze, my jaw tightening in sheer horror. "Jarrah"He looked like a ghost. We had buried the rumors that he was dead by the poison Baden Lawson’s men had slipped into his tea three weeks ago which had nearly taken his life. He had spent twenty days in an intensive care ward under an assumed name while the rest of the world thought he was rotti

BanjoI sat on the cold floorboards of Merinda’s room, staring at the adoption certificate in my shaking hands. My vision blurred. My lungs felt like they were shrinking, refusing to take in any air.My entire life was a lie.I wasn't a Vance. I wasn't the rightful heir to the billionaire empire I had spent the last three years ruthlessly defending. I was a Kael. I was the son of the man my adopted father had destroyed and she had known. She had known the whole time.She hadn't married me to pay off a debt. She had married me to protect me from the truth. She had let me treat her like dirt on the bottom of my shoe, just to keep the promise she made to a dying old man who didn't even deserve her mercy, I couldn't help but cry out.I dropped the paper onto the floor and dragged my hands through my hair, gripping the roots until my scalp burned. I felt sick. A heavy, violent wave of nausea twisted my stomach. I scrambled to my feet, stumbling backward until my shoulder slammed hard again

Banjo The voices of the board members faded into a dull, meaningless hum. I couldn't hear Mr. Sterling shouting anymore. I didn't care about the freezing of the Asian shipping ports, or the plummeting stock prices, or the panic in the room.All I could see, all I could feel, was the tiny piece of clear plastic resting in the palm of my hand.I rubbed my thumb over the printed black ink again. Baby Kael. Born December 15th.A son. I had a son.My chest heaved as I tried to pull air into my lungs. He was out there. Somewhere in the world, there was a little boy with my blood running through his veins. He had ten tiny fingers. He was walking by now. He was learning how to speak. And I had missed all of it. I had missed his first breath, his first steps, his first cry in the middle of the night.Merinda hadn't just endured my cruelty. She had carried my child in secret, shielded him from my toxic world, and smuggled him to safety while I was drinking whiskey and complaining about my prid

Banjo The air inside Dr. Reid’s underground studio was stale, heavy with the metallic smell of hot computer parts and damp concrete. Outside, the rain had settled into a steady, miserable drizzle against the street above, but down here, time had completely lost its meaning." Eleanor Vance" I repeated, my voice sounding like gravel grinding together. "My mother died in a car accident thirty years ago. I was four years old. That profile can't be active.""It's a ghost account," Reid said, her fingers flying over her worn keyboard with a sharp, rhythmic clack. "A dormant master profile set up decades ago to mask external connections. Someone took her old access credentials, wrapped them in six layers of military grade proxies, and used them to route commands directly to Arthur’s terminal."I leaned over her shoulder, my blood running cold as line after line of green text scrolled past. "Can you trace the physical origination point of the data burst? The exact location where the leak wa