The phone rang from Seraphina's pocket.The sound sliced through the silence like a knife, echoing off the concrete walls and rusted beams of the old warehouse. It was sharp and insistent, a jarring noise in a space that had been holding its breath for the past several minutes. Everyone in the room froze. Volkov's men stopped mid-step, their hands hovering near their weapons. Mira's eyes went wide, her face shifting from calm curiosity to sharp attention. Ethan stood motionless, his gun still in his hand, his arm dropped to his side, his mind struggling to process what he was hearing.Volkov walked toward Seraphina slowly, deliberately. His footsteps echoed with each step, the sound of his boots against the concrete floor the only noise in the room besides the persistent ringing of the phone. He stopped in front of her and reached into her pocket. His fingers brushed against the fabric, and he pulled out the phone. He looked at the screen. His face was unreadable, but something flicke

Ethan stared at Seraphina. The silence in the visitation room was thick enough to cut, heavy with unspoken accusations and years of buried secrets. Andrew was watching them both from across the table, his eyes cold and calculating, a ghost of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. The guard against the wall shifted his weight, uncomfortable with the tension that filled the small room."What does he mean, Seraphina?" Ethan's voice was low, controlled, but there was an edge to it that hadn't been there before. "What did he walk in on?"Seraphina finally looked up. Her eyes were tired, ringed with dark circles that spoke of sleepless nights and endless worry. But there was something else behind them. Defensiveness. Hurt. A lifetime of being overlooked and underestimated."I was in his office months ago," she said. Her voice was quiet, but steady. "Looking for evidence against Richard. Against Andrew. I thought I could find something to clear your name.""You broke into my brother's

Ethan stood in the center of the warehouse, the photo still in his hand, his mind still reeling from the realization. Chloe. It had been Chloe the whole time. The woman who had smiled at him, who had held his hand, who had been so easy and uncomplicated and perfect. She had been planning this from the beginning. The thought made his stomach turn.Volkov was watching him. Mira was watching him. Seraphina was standing near the back wall, her arms crossed, her face unreadable. The warehouse was silent except for the hum of the fluorescent lights above. The hitman had been taken away. The only evidence left was the photo in Ethan's hand and the weight of everything that had just been revealed."It's Chloe," Ethan said again, his voice flat, hollow. "Chloe Caldwell."Volkov raised an eyebrow. "The woman you were seeing? The one who walked out?""She didn't walk out. She was never really there." Ethan shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the photo. "She was waiting. Watching. Planning. S

The warehouse was quiet after the hitman was dragged away. The echoes of his shouts and Volkov's punch had faded, leaving behind a heavy silence that pressed down on everyone in the room. Ethan stood in the center, his hands still shaking, his mind still reeling from everything the hitman had said. The words kept circling in his head, refusing to settle. Chloe wanted Claire dead. The hitman wanted Ethan dead. They were both pawns in a game that had been running longer than anyone had realized. Volkov stepped forward, his voice cutting through the silence. "We need to move Claire. She's not safe at the safe house anymore. Chloe knows about it. She knows we're watching. She'll find another way." Ethan nodded slowly, his jaw tight and his eyes cold. "I'll take her to my penthouse. No one knows about it. It's secure." Volkov raised an eyebrow. "Your penthouse?" "I have security. Cameras. Reinforced doors. No one gets in without me knowing." Ethan's voice was flat and tired, drained

Chapter 152: The ConversationEthan stepped through the doors of the gala and into a world of chandeliers and champagne flutes and the low hum of expensive conversations. The ballroom was vast, the ceilings high, the walls lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. A string quartet played something soft and classical near the far end of the room. People in designer gowns and tailored suits moved through the space like they owned it.He scanned the room. Mira was near the bar, her eyes fixed on something across the room. She gave him a subtle nod, her chin tilting toward the far end of the bar.Ethan followed her gaze.Chloe was there. She was sitting on one of the high stools at the corner of the bar, her back to the room, a glass of champagne in her hand. A man in a sharp suit was standing beside her, leaning in, talking animatedly. Chloe was nodding along, her smile polite and professional, but her eyes kept drifting past him, scanning the room.Ethan walked towar