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Chapter 95- Protocol
“Elijah!” Valeria shouted, her voice cracking.The guards were closing in fast, boots thundering on the marble.Elijah stepped in front of her, chest heaving, arms wide like a shield.“Run,” he growled. “Valeria, go—now!”“But I can’t leave you—!”He turned, his eyes hard. “I said run. I’ll catch up.”She hesitated, eyes stinging, heart torn. But then she nodded, took one last look at him… and ran.Elijah exhaled, low and steady. His hands curled into fists as he rolled up his sleeves slowly. “Alright then,” he muttered, stepping forward. “Which of you wants to go first?”The guards tensed, ready to charge.But a voice interrupted from behind.“Really, Elijah?” Alec stepped into the corridor, his tone calm—too calm. “Must everything end in violence with you?”Elijah’s jaw tightened. “Says the man who kidnapped my own daughter… and locked her in my own empire like a trophy.”Alec smiled faintly, brushing invisible dust off his designer blazer. “I thought you were a businessman, not som
Chapter 94
The ticking wall clock was the only sound in the room, slicing the silence like a blade. Mr. Quinn stood like a statue behind the mahogany desk, arms crossed, his sharp gaze locked onto the boy kneeling before him. "Look at me, Caleb." The boy flinched, his eyes fixed on the floor. His knees pressed hard against the cold tile, jeans stained with dirt and something darker. He dared not raise his head. Mr. Quinn's voice dropped, slower, colder. "You want to be seen? You want the world to follow you? Then you must learn the rule…" He paused, taking slow steps forward, the floor groaning under his boots. "—the world only follows a man who doesn't feel pain." Caleb swallowed hard. He didn’t understand the world. Not really. All he knew was that love had a face in his house—and it wasn’t his. It was Elijah. Always Elijah. Mr. Quinn reached for a small wooden shelf to his right. On it lay scattered tools—papers, files, a half-empty bottle of whiskey, and beneath it all, a
Chapter 93
The ticking wall clock was the only sound in the room, slicing the silence like a blade. Mr. Quinn stood like a statue behind the mahogany desk, arms crossed, his sharp gaze locked onto the boy kneeling before him. "Look at me, Caleb." The boy flinched, his eyes fixed on the floor. His knees pressed hard against the cold tile, jeans stained with dirt and something darker. He dared not raise his head. Mr. Quinn's voice dropped, slower, colder. "You want to be seen? You want the world to follow you? Then you must learn the rule…" He paused, taking slow steps forward, the floor groaning under his boots. "—the world only follows a man who doesn't feel pain." Caleb swallowed hard. He didn’t understand the world. Not really. All he knew was that love had a face in his house—and it wasn’t his. It was Elijah. Always Elijah. Mr. Quinn reached for a small wooden shelf to his right. On it lay scattered tools—papers, files, a half-empty bottle of whiskey, and beneath it all, a rusted ha
Chapter 92
The ticking wall clock was the only sound in the room, slicing the silence like a blade. Mr. Quinn stood like a statue behind the mahogany desk, arms crossed, his sharp gaze locked onto the boy kneeling before him. "Look at me, Caleb." The boy flinched, his eyes fixed on the floor. His knees pressed hard against the cold tile, jeans stained with dirt and something darker. He dared not raise his head. Mr. Quinn's voice dropped, slower, colder. "You want to be seen? You want the world to follow you? Then you must learn the rule…" He paused, taking slow steps forward, the floor groaning under his boots. "—the world only follows a man who doesn't feel pain." Caleb swallowed hard. He didn’t understand the world. Not really. All he knew was that love had a face in his house—and it wasn’t his. It was Elijah. Always Elijah. Mr. Quinn reached for a small wooden shelf to his right. On it lay scattered tools—papers, files, a half-empty bottle of whiskey, and beneath it all, a rusted ha
Chapter 91
The ticking wall clock was the only sound in the room, slicing the silence like a blade. Mr. Quinn stood like a statue behind the mahogany desk, arms crossed, his sharp gaze locked onto the boy kneeling before him. "Look at me, Caleb." The boy flinched, his eyes fixed on the floor. His knees pressed hard against the cold tile, jeans stained with dirt and something darker. He dared not raise his head. Mr. Quinn's voice dropped, slower, colder. "You want to be seen? You want the world to follow you? Then you must learn the rule…" He paused, taking slow steps forward, the floor groaning under his boots. "—the world only follows a man who doesn't feel pain." Caleb swallowed hard. He didn’t understand the world. Not really. All he knew was that love had a face in his house—and it wasn’t his. It was Elijah. Always Elijah. Mr. Quinn reached for a small wooden shelf to his right. On it lay scattered tools—papers, files, a half-empty bottle of whiskey, and beneath it all, a rusted ha
Chapter 90
The ticking wall clock was the only sound in the room, slicing the silence like a blade. Mr. Quinn stood like a statue behind the mahogany desk, arms crossed, his sharp gaze locked onto the boy kneeling before him. "Look at me, Caleb." The boy flinched, his eyes fixed on the floor. His knees pressed hard against the cold tile, jeans stained with dirt and something darker. He dared not raise his head. Mr. Quinn's voice dropped, slower, colder. "You want to be seen? You want the world to follow you? Then you must learn the rule…" He paused, taking slow steps forward, the floor groaning under his boots. "—the world only follows a man who doesn't feel pain." Caleb swallowed hard. He didn’t understand the world. Not really. All he knew was that love had a face in his house—and it wasn’t his. It was Elijah. Always Elijah. Mr. Quinn reached for a small wooden shelf to his right. On it lay scattered tools—papers, files, a half-empty bottle of whiskey, and beneath it all, a rusted ha
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