All Chapters of Trained Not To Love You: Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

Ronan"I see you've met my nephew," Frederick said, his voice calm but weighted with meaning. I could only manage a nod in response, my mind still reeling from the day's events."He’s been helping us stay one step ahead of the Kavistani government’s plans. But don’t worry, we have others working there too. Still, I couldn’t trust just anyone with this mission. That’s why I had to bring him in,” Frederick continued.The way he spoke made me realise something important—it wasn't just about the mission. He needed people he could trust, and that hit me harder than I expected.For a while, I thought we were disposable, just cogs in the machine. The way Frederick had initially presented the mission to us made it seem like we were being used—like our lives didn't matter as much as the outcome. But now I understood. He had sent his nephew, someone who might as well have been his own son. If he was willing to risk that, it meant he trusted us more than I had imagined. This wasn't about throwin

Ronan“My wife is pregnant, and she’s Belvarian,” Erin said, his voice tinged with worry.“I can’t leave her behind, but I also can’t take her with me.” His anxiety was palpable, and I could see the conflict in his eyes. He was caught between protecting the woman he loved and the duty he had to the mission.Frederick’s expression softened as he responded. “Olivia will stay with Irene. I’m sure she would understand.” Erin gave a small nod, recognising that it was likely the safest option he could hope for. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something. At least she would be in capable hands.Linus then shifted his attention to the rest of us, his tone becoming more serious. “I need each of you to reach out to your fathers. Let them in on the plan. They’ll be the ones to handle the negotiations. It’s crucial. You all know my position—I’m retired.”We understood the subtext. His influence was still powerful, but he needed our families—those still in positions of power—to step in and take the re

Camila"No need to be tense, Camila. I mean well," Madam Melania said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. The touch was so gentle, so unlike the rigid woman I had known all my life, and it made me pause. She let out a long, tired sigh, and I could feel the weight behind it."Honestly, having to be harsh and indifferent all the time is exhausting," she admitted, her voice sounding heavier than usual. There was something vulnerable in her tone that caught me off guard. I had always seen her as this unshakable force—cold, unrelenting, always in control. Hearing her like this made her seem... human.She sighed again, staring at the bacon sizzling in the pan. "You need to understand, Camila, this situation we're in... it’s dangerous. Feelings like this, they could get us all in trouble." Her words hung in the air like a warning, and I felt my heart thudding in my chest. She wasn't wrong—our world was cruel, and stepping out of line could lead to consequences none of us could bear."I was

CamilaThe announcement didn't come until seven in the evening, and by then, the air in the room was thick with tension.Master Sergey paced, his worry growing with each passing minute. He had already confided his fear that Head of State Gregory Novikov might refuse the Belvarian demands. But as much as Sergey worried, we all knew Novikov didn’t really have a choice. With his allies either dead, on the run, or hiding, he was cornered. The weight of his country’s fragile peace rested on his shoulders, and the cost of not accepting the Belvarian offer was too high. If he refused, Jorvik would descend into chaos.As we all stood waiting for the announcement, my mother sat in silence, a quiet but heavy presence beside me. She hadn’t spoken a word since hearing the update earlier in the day. Her eyes, usually so strong, now flickered with an intense mix of emotions—hope and fear intertwined so tightly that I could feel them radiating from her. I didn’t blame her. It had been twenty-two lon

RonanThe celebration at the base was in full swing. After watching the head of state’s broadcast, I should have felt pure relief, but there was an odd emptiness in my chest, a strange sense of something missing. Still, the realisation that I could finally go home filled me with a surge of joy. After all, this was what we had fought for.Fredrick approached me, holding a glass of whiskey. It was a drink I had come to enjoy during our time together. Vodka had always been my choice, but now, it seemed I had developed a taste for something new.He smiled warmly as he held out the glass, and we clinked them together in a quiet gesture of victory. There was a shared understanding in that moment, an unspoken acknowledgement of everything we had endured to get here. I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me—trusting Fredrick had been the right decision, and now, thanks to him, we were no longer fugitives. We could go home, and that thought alone lifted a huge weight off my shoulders, though I k