Chapter 11: The First CrackThe elevator ride back to the penthouse was silent except for the soft hum of machinery. Bella’s hand stayed in mine, our fingers laced tight, as if she was afraid I’d vanish if she let go. I kept stealing glances at her. My shirt swallowed her frame, her legs were bare, and her hair was messy from my hands. She looked like she belonged to me.Because she did.The doors slid open and we stepped into the living room. The city sparkled forty-eight floors below, but the warmth we had an hour ago was gone. Vanessa’s poison was already seeping in.Bella finally spoke, her voice small. "She’s not going to stop, is she?""No," I answered honestly. "She’s never known when to quit. And right now, she’s desperate."She walked to the windows, wrapping her arms around herself. "The things people are already saying online… gold digger, mistress, charity case. They don’t even know my name, and they hate me."I crossed the room in four strides and pulled her back against

13: Blood on the RooftopThe helicopter blades tear the night apart as we rise above the city, Marcus at the controls, two of his best men strapped in beside me. Bella sits across from me, white-knuckled on the seat, bulletproof vest swallowing her frame. She wouldn’t stay behind. I didn’t waste time arguing.Fifty-eight minutes to deadline.We land on the Lockwood Tower helipad hard enough to rattle teeth. The same rooftop where Ethan and I used to smoke cigars and plan world domination when we were kids.Now it’s a killing ground.Wind whips across the concrete. Floodlights are off. Only the red aircraft warning lights pulse every few seconds.I step out first, pistol in one hand, the other reaching back for Bella. She takes it without hesitation.Marcus and his team fan out, suppressed rifles up, moving like ghosts.Then the lights snap on.Blinding white floods the entire roof.Ethan stands dead center, thirty yards away.He’s thinner than I remember, prison pallor, but the smirk