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Chapter 14: The Tipping Point
Last Updated:
2025-01-25 14:26:52
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The sound of the doorbell echoed through Isabella’s penthouse, breaking the peaceful stillness that had settled over the apartment after her conversation with Alexander. She had spent the rest of the afternoon pondering his words, replaying their exchange over and over in her mind, but now, it was as if fate was about to pull her in another direction. Rising from the couch, Isabella wiped her palms on her jeans before heading toward the door. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She hadn't planned for any more distractions today—especially not from someone who might complicate things further. But as she opened the door, her eyes widened in surprise. Standing there with a wide grin plastered across her face, wearing oversized sunglasses that she had obviously been wearing just to make a dramatic entrance, was none other than Chloe Sinclair—her best friend, the infamous international model, and a woman who lived for drama. Chloe had just returned from a long stint overseas and had dropped by w
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The flashing lights of the club blurred as Chloe’s pulse thundered in her ears. One moment, Isabella had been right beside her, laughing, albeit a bit unsteady on her feet. The next—she was gone. Panic clawed at her chest as she scanned the packed dance floor, her breath quickening. She spun around, pushing through the crowd, calling Isabella’s name. No answer. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath, her fingers trembling as she reached for her phone. Who should she call? The police? No, that would take too long. Someone with power—someone who could find Isabella immediately. Then it hit her. Alexander. Her fingers flew across the screen as she dialed his number, her heart hammering in anticipation. The moment the call connected, she barely gave him a chance to speak. “Alex! Isabella is missing! We were at the club, and I think someone took her. I don’t know how—I turned for just a second, and now she’s gone!” Her voice was frantic, her words tumbling out in a rush. There was a m
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Isabella groaned as she stirred awake, her head throbbing. The scent of fresh linen and something warm—tea?—floated through the air. She blinked her eyes open, taking in the unfamiliar yet luxurious bedroom. Soft golden light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the elegantly decorated room. Where am I? As soon as she tried to sit up, a deep, commanding voice stopped her. "Don't move." Her heart skipped at the familiar tone. Turning her head slightly, she found Alexander standing by the window, his back straight, arms crossed. He looked like a predator watching its prey—his gaze dark, unreadable, and filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He looks so breathtakingly handsome. is sharp jawline, his gorgeous face. Isabella didn't know how to describe it. Her throat was dry as she croaked out, "What happened?" Alexander’s jaw clenched. "Ryan drugged you. He was planning to do something unforgivable. But I was there on time. If not, I can't imagine what tha
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The world felt strangely silent.Ryan stood at the edge of the ruined shipping port, the scent of smoke and gunpowder lingering in the air. The waves crashed against the docks, a rhythmic contrast to the chaos that had unfolded just hours ago.Volkov was dead. His empire shattered.And yet, the weight on Ryan’s shoulders refused to lift.Lena stepped beside him, arms crossed. She had patched up the wound on his shoulder, but he could tell she was still watching him with concern.“You’re quiet,” she said.Ryan exhaled, his grip tightening on the railing. “Just thinking.”Dante walked up behind them, rubbing his neck. “We should be celebrating. We pulled off the impossible.”Lena shot him a tired look. “We barely made it out alive.”Dante smirked. “That’s kind of our thing, isn’t it?”Ryan shook his head. “There’s still one loose end.”Lena’s expression darkened. “The leak.”Someone had sold them out before the attack on Volkov’s hideout. Someone had warned him they were coming.And Rya
