Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 21 - Chapitre 30

Claimed by My Ex’s UncleChapter 21: Sovereign WatersThe midnight sea beneath the hull of the Sovereign was black as polished obsidian, parting in long, glowing white ribbons of foam as the two-hundred-foot superyacht sliced through the Mediterranean toward the Amalfi Coast.On the upper aft deck, miles away from the nearest coastline, the air was warm, heavy with the scent of salty ocean breeze, fresh night-blooming jasmine, and expensive champagne. The rest of the world—the boardrooms, the press, the cold shadows of New York, and the ghost of Marcus—did not exist out here. There was only the endless dark water, the brilliant canopy of stars above, and the man who had torn down an entire society to build a pedestal for me.I stood by the teak railing, a thin glass of vintage Dom Pérignon resting between my fingers.My silk wedding gown had been replaced by a fluid, backless halter dress of liquid silver silk that clung to my waist and pooling around my bare feet. The breeze pressed

Claimed by My Ex’s UncleChapter 23: The Paris TrapThe heavy rain falling over Place Vendôme beat a steady, rhythmic cadence against the stained-glass dome of the private dining room inside Hotel Ritz Paris.Outside, the city of light was blurred by gray mist, but inside the private salon, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. The air smelled of aged oak, white truffles, and the sharp, metallic tang of fear.Sitting across the long mahogany table was Jean-Luc Laurent.Six hours ago, he had been one of the most powerful corporate raiders in Western Europe. Now, his bespoke Italian suit looked slightly ill-fitting, his silk tie loosened at his collar, his hands visibly trembling as he stared at the crystal glass of undisturbed sparkling water in front of him.On his tablet screen, the live financial tickers from the Paris Bourse were flashing bright, unrelenting red. Laurent's two-billion-dollar short position had collapsed into a total crater. When Vance-Lorden Global announced the

Claimed by My Ex’s UncleChapter 25: The Zurich VaultsThe private Gulfstream cut through the turbulent cloud deck over the Swiss Alps, its engines roaring into a low, steady vibration as we descended toward the private landing strip in Zurich.Outside the cabin window, the jagged white peaks gave way to the gloomy gray expanse of the lake, shrouded in a freezing dawn fog. Inside, the cabin was silent, heavy with the sharp, intoxicating scent of rich espresso and the quiet, deadly focus of two people about to tear down the last remnant of a rival bloodline.I sat in the plush leather captain's chair, my dark wool coat draped over my shoulders, scanning the encrypted financial ledgers glowing on my tablet.The Sterling Trust hadn't just funded Victoria’s escape. They had used an offshore shadow entity to quietly buy up non-voting shares in our European logistics arm—a desperate, pathetic attempt to secure a foothold before we could complete the Zurich integration.A pair of broad, warm

Claimed by My Ex’s UncleChapter 27: The New DawnThe sunrise over the Hamptons coastline was slow, bleeding pale rose and soft amber through the towering floor-to-ceiling windows of our newly renovated beachside estate.The old, rusted iron gates that once held Victoria’s bitter isolation had been replaced with sleek, dark titanium walls shrouded in lush ivy. The cold, suffocating ghosts of the past were gone, replaced by the fresh, salty breeze drifting off the Atlantic and the faint rustle of white linen curtains floating in the morning air.I stood on the expansive teak deck overlooking the crashing waves, wrapped in a heavy ivory cashmere cardigan over my silk nightgown.My dark hair tumbled loose around my shoulders, caught by the cool sea breeze. In my right hand, I held a warm cup of black tea, the steam rising softly into the crisp morning air. On my left hand, the blue diamond caught the first direct rays of the sun, casting a deep, oceanic brilliance against my skin.Behind

Claimed by My Ex’s UncleChapter 29: Shadows in the SnowWinter descended on Manhattan like a sheet of ice, locking the steel spires of Wall Street under a heavy, suffocating white blanket.The three-hundred-billion-dollar empire of Vance-Lorden Global stood undisturbed at the absolute peak of the financial world. The board meetings were silent, the European regulators had fallen into line, and my father’s name was etched in gold across three continents.Yet, as I stood in the private observation room of our Manhattan estate, looking down at the heavy snow drifting past the glass, a strange, electric tension prickled at the nape of my neck.I wore a dark burgundy velvet gown that hugged my waist and pooled around my bare feet. The blue diamond on my left hand threw cold, crimson-tinged reflections across the dark mahogany walls.Behind me, the double oak doors didn't open with a casual creak. They slid back with precise, silent authority.Julian walked into the room, his tailored midn