Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 31 - Chapitre 40

Claimed by My Ex’s UncleChapter 31: The Dawn of JudgmentThe storm outside had peaked during the dead hours of the night, leaving the world below blanketed in a heavy, blinding expanse of fresh white snow.As the first pale golden light of dawn filtered through the frost-dusted windows of the penthouse study, the silence inside was absolute. The fire in the hearth had burned down to glowing red coals, casting warm, flickered shadows over the mahogany desk where the documents that would officially end Gabriel Vance were spread open.I sat in the oversized leather executive chair, wrapped in Julian’s heavy black cashmere robe, my dark hair falling over my shoulders in messy waves.The blue diamond on my left hand glinted softly under the morning light. On the screen in front of me, the international maritime tribunal's live portal flickered from red to green. The diplomatic immunity revocation had just been processed in Geneva.Behind me, the door opened with a quiet, deliberate click.

Claimed by My Ex’s UncleChapter 33: The First MorningThe soft, golden sunlight of early dawn spilled across the massive king-sized bed in our private suite at the estate.Outside, the Atlantic was calm, its waves breaking against the shore in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. The cool ocean air drifted through the cracked balcony doors, carrying the crisp scent of salt, damp cedar, and the sweet lingering essence of expensive champagne from the previous night's grand celebration.I stirred slowly under the thick, warm silk duvet, my body feeling heavy and thoroughly relaxed.When I shifted my weight, a powerful arm tightened instantly around my waist, pulling me backward until my spine was pressed flat against the solid, burning heat of Julian’s chest.He wasn't asleep. The slow, deep rhythm of his breathing was steady, but the firm, possessive hold he kept on my hip told me he had been awake, watching me sleep in the quiet morning light.Julian lowered his head, his rough morning stubble gr

Claimed by My Ex’s UncleChapter 35: The Next ReignThe first chill of late autumn crept into the air, turning the vast estate gardens into a tapestry of deep amber, rich bronze, and dark evergreen.High above the coastline, the glass doors of our private penthouse wing stood wide open, allowing the crisp, ocean-scented wind to billow the heavy velvet curtains. The city of Manhattan remained far behind us, a quiet grid of sparkling lights on the distant horizon, while here, perched on the highest point of the Atlantic cliffs, the world belonged entirely to us.I stood beside the mahogany vanity, smoothing down the front of a floor-length dark emerald silk gown that molded perfectly to my waist before flowing smoothly to the floor. The blue diamond on my left hand sparkled with its familiar, icy brilliance under the warm chandelier light.I was adjusting the matching emerald pendant at my throat when a pair of heavy, warm hands settled over my hips from behind.Julian’s broad chest pre

Claimed by My Ex’s UncleChapter 37: The Highland FortressThe sea fog rolled off the icy North Sea like a silent ghost, wrapping its thick white fingers around the jagged black cliffs of Isle of Skye.Perched on the highest precipice above the roaring waves stood Dunraven Castle—a heavy, ancient fortress built of dark granite, its iron-reinforced turrets cutting into the gray sky like jagged knives. For three centuries, it had stood as the private stronghold of the Vance lineage, hidden far beyond the reach of public records, corporate auditors, and satellite tracking.The heavy oak doors of the castle library shut with a deep, echoing thud that resonated through the stone foundations.Inside, a massive stone hearth roared with thick birch logs, casting long, amber shadows across floors draped in dark wool rugs, floor-to-ceiling leather-bound volumes, and high arched windows overlooking the churning sea below. The sharp scent of burning wood, aged peat, and sea salt filled the warm a

Claimed by My Ex’s UncleChapter 39: The Sovereign HorizonThe private helipad at the base of Dunraven Castle cut a stark, modern circle into the wild, jagged cliffs of Skye.The heavy twin engines of the Sikorsky S-76 thrummed into a low, rhythmic vibration that sent ripples across the salt-encrusted tidal pools far below. The fog had completely lifted, leaving behind an electric blue sky stretching endlessly across the Atlantic.I stood beside the open cabin door, wearing a sharp, tailored ivory trench coat over my dark dress, the collar turned up against the crisp Highland breeze.Beside me, Julian stood like an iron pillar against the wind. His broad frame was encased in a double-breasted charcoal overcoat that draped over his massive shoulders with absolute, imposing perfection. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets, his razor-sharp profile framed by the pale autumn sun.He didn't look back at the centuries-old stone fortress we were leaving behind. His stormy silver eyes w