All Chapters of The Man on the Morning News : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

I didn’t sleep that night.I sat on the cold marble floor of the living room until the sun began to peek through the heavy velvet curtains, casting long, golden stripes across the shattered pieces of the vase I had thrown at Damian. My eyes were swollen, my throat raw, and my body ached from crying. But the tears had stopped hours ago. In their place was a strange, hollow numbness that settled deep in my bones.Damian’s words echoed in my head on a loop, a cruel soundtrack I couldn’t silence. “You were safe. You were predictable. I tried to love you, but I can’t.”Three years. Three years of my life wasted on a man who saw me as a placeholder. A temporary fix until the real thing came back. A warm body to fill the empty space beside him at charity galas and business dinners.I looked down at my phone, still clutched in my hand. The message from the unknown number glowed on the screen, its words burning into my retinas.“I know what he did to you. I have the files. If you want to destr

The plane touched down in Miami at 9:15 AM. The moment the wheels hit the tarmac, a wave of humid, sticky heat washed over the cabin. It was a stark contrast to the cold, sterile air of New York. I stepped off the plane with nothing but a small duffel bag and a burning desire for vengeance.Victoria had arranged everything. A black SUV was waiting for me at the curb, driven by a silent, stone-faced man named Hector. He didn’t ask questions. He simply handed me a manila envelope and a bottle of water.“Everything you need is inside,” he said, his voice gruff. “Miss Sterling sends her regards.”I opened the envelope as we sped down the highway, the palm trees blurring past the window. Inside was a photograph of a man. He was in his late fifties, with a thick grey beard, a sun-weathered face, and cold, dead eyes. Victor Rossi. The man who had tampered with my sister’s brakes.The file also contained a list of his known associates, his last known address, and a detailed map of the Little

I didn’t sleep that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the photograph of myself with the red target painted over my face. Every shadow in the apartment felt like a threat. Every creak of the floorboards felt like footsteps.Damian wasn’t just threatening me anymore. He was hunting me. And he had the resources to do it.I spent the night pacing the small living room, my mind racing. Victoria had gone dark—her last text had been hours ago, and she wasn’t answering her phone. Hector had left to “secure the perimeter,” whatever that meant. I was alone with Victor, who was drifting in and out of consciousness, his bandaged shoulder seeping through the white gauze.At 5:00 AM, my burner phone buzzed. A text from Victoria.“Turn on the news. Now.”I grabbed the remote and flicked on the television. The screen flickered to life, and my breath caught in my throat.The headline screamed across the bottom of the screen in bold red letters: “BILLIONAIRE DAMIAN THORNE ARRESTED FOR MURDER.”

I didn’t sleep that night. Not after the text message. Not after the revelation about the trafficking ring. My mind was a hurricane of fear, rage, and determination.I sat on the edge of my bed, fully dressed, staring at the balcony doors. The ocean was calm, the moonlight shimmering on the water. It looked peaceful. It felt like a lie.At 3:00 AM, I heard it. A faint, distant sound. The low hum of a boat engine.I crept to the balcony and peered into the darkness. A sleek black speedboat was cutting through the water, heading straight for the private dock below the villa. There were four men on board, all dressed in black tactical gear.Damian’s men. They had found us.I ran.I burst into Victoria’s room, shaking her awake. “They’re here,” I hissed. “We have to move. Now.”Victoria’s eyes flew open. She didn’t ask questions. She grabbed her phone and dialed Hector’s number. “We have company. South dock. Four tangos. Move.”I ran to Victor’s room next. He was already awake, his nurse

The next morning, I woke before the sun. The mountain air was cold and thin, and my breath fogged in front of my face as I stepped onto the balcony. Below me, Bogotá sprawled across the valley like a glittering carpet, its lights flickering in the pre-dawn darkness.I had slept for four hours. It was the most I had slept in days. But I didn’t feel rested. I felt hollow. Empty. Like a shell of the woman I had once been.But I was still standing. And that was enough.Victoria was already awake when I walked into the kitchen. She was hunched over a laptop, her face illuminated by the blue glow of the screen. Martin was beside her, a cup of coffee in his hand, his expression grim.“We found him,” Victoria said, not looking up.“Alexander?” I asked, my heart skipping a beat.“Yes.” She turned the laptop toward me. On the screen was a photograph of a man in his late forties. He had the same dark hair and sharp jawline as Damian, but his eyes were different. Colder. Harder. There was a scar