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Chapter 23: A Game of Deception
Last Updated:
2025-01-30 17:23:03
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Ryan’s words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken intent.You.Isabella held her ground, even as the weight of his gaze sent an unsettling sensation down her spine. Ryan Byrne was not a man to be underestimated. He was a king in his own right, ruling the corporate world with an iron grip. If he was here, standing in her penthouse in the dead of night, it meant one thing—he had uncovered something.Or at least, he suspected.She kept her face composed, a knowing smile playing at her lips. “That’s quite vague, Mr. Byrne. Care to be more specific?”Ryan took a slow step forward, eyes never leaving hers. “Tell me, Isabella—who are you really?”Her heart pounded.She could lie. She should lie.But lying to Ryan Byrne was like playing chess against a grandmaster with only half the pieces.Still, she wasn’t about to fold just yet.“I believe my résumé speaks for itself,” she said lightly, moving to pour herself another glass of wine. “Unless, of course, you’ve found something interesting tha
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The moment Ryan Byrne walked out of her penthouse, Isabella felt the weight of the flash drive in her palm as if it carried the weight of her entire past.She had always known that the deeper she played this game, the more enemies she would make. But Ryan? He wasn’t just an enemy—he was a hunter. And right now, she was his prey.She moved to her desk and plugged the flash drive into her laptop, her fingers steady despite the turmoil raging inside her. The screen flickered, and a single folder appeared.“Who is Isabella King?”Her breath hitched. Ryan had named the file after the very question that could undo everything.She clicked on it.Inside were documents, images, and surveillance logs. Each file opened a new piece of a puzzle she thought she had buried years ago. There were background checks, financial records, and—her stomach clenched—a blurry security footage still.Her.From years ago.Not as Isabella King, the ambitious and cunning strategist of Hathaway Enterprises.But as
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The city was alive with the hum of late-night traffic, neon lights reflecting off the rain-slicked streets. Inside Isabella’s penthouse, however, the air was thick with a suffocating silence.She sat at her desk, staring at the note in her hand.I KNOW EVERYTHING.The words burned into her mind, a silent threat wrapped in ink and paper.Her mind raced.Who?It couldn’t be Ryan—he was too controlled, too calculating. If he had this kind of leverage, he would use it directly, not leave anonymous threats.Then who else knew about Camilla Laurent?Her past had been buried—every trace of her old identity erased with painstaking precision. She had spent years ensuring no one could connect Isabella King to the girl who had once lived under a different name.Yet someone had.A sharp knock on the door made her jolt.She quickly folded the note and tucked it beneath the laptop before moving toward the entrance.She peered through the peephole.Ryan.Of course.Taking a deep breath, she schooled
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The night stretched on, the tension in Isabella’s penthouse thick enough to suffocate. Ryan’s words lingered in the air between them, a silent challenge neither was willing to back down from.“The truth is relative.”Her own words echoed in her mind, but Ryan’s unwavering stare told her he wasn’t buying it.Not tonight.Not anymore.She took another slow sip of wine, careful to keep her expression unreadable. “You’re a persistent man, Mr. Byrne.”Ryan leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the counter. “And you’re an exceptional liar, Miss King. But even the best liars slip eventually.”She smirked. “Then you’ll be waiting a long time.”Ryan chuckled, but there was no humor in it. He picked up his phone, swiping at the screen. “The person watching us tonight… they’re professionals. Not just some corporate spy or curious reporter.”Isabella’s stomach tightened. She knew that already, but hearing it confirmed out loud made it feel more real.More dangerous.Ryan turned his scr
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The underground parking garage smelled of oil and cold metal, a fitting place for the kind of conversation Isabella and Ryan were about to have. The world above them continued as usual—people laughing in restaurants, taxis honking through traffic—but down here, where the air was thick with anticipation, a war was brewing.Ryan sat across from her in the driver’s seat, his posture rigid with tension. Isabella could see the wheels turning in his mind, analyzing every possible move, every potential threat.“You still have the ledger,” Ryan said, his voice even. “Where is it?”Isabella smirked slightly, tilting her head. “You think I’d tell you just like that?”Ryan exhaled, a mixture of frustration and admiration flashing across his face. “I should’ve known you’d play this game.”“This isn’t a game,” she corrected. “This is survival.”She watched as Ryan gripped the steering wheel for a moment before releasing it. His sharp blue eyes met hers, unrelenting. “Then let’s stop wasting time.
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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
