All Chapters of REBEL : THE DEADLY HIERESS: Chapter 31 - Chapter 37

KLAUS Malls were not my thing. Nor was babysitting my best friend's crazier emotions or holding people back from going into a mess they had no business seeing. But here I was, standing in the middle of some high-end boutique, watching my wife, Catya, dig through dresses and keep a watchful eye on Carly Rhodes. Carly's arrival was not a surprise. I'd expected her to show up sooner or later. What surprised me was how damn determined she looked. Her back was straight, her eyes sharp, scanning the store like a mother ready to go rescue her kid. She had no clue what she was getting herself into. I did. Daniel just showed up, slipping into the dressing room behind Rebel. And I had made sure no one—above all, Carly—had entered upon them. I was standing in front of her now, an easy smile on my face, my stance casual but firm. "Carly," I said simply, "you have to give her space." Her eyes snapped to mine. "Space?" she said curtly, echoing me. "She's my daughter. I deserve a moment w

KLAUS The hospital room was full of despair. Rebel held onto Michael's lifeless body, her hands wrapped around his dead hand as if she could compel him back. She hadn't moved since we arrived. The doctors had abandoned all attempts to speak with her—any attempt to try to coax her away from him had yielded a fatal snarl and the glint of her eyes. No one was foolish enough to push her. Not even me. I stood in the doorway, arms folded, observing her. The hospital fluorescent light threw stark shadows across her white face, accentuating the desolation in her eyes. She was hardly breathing, trapped in a world of suffering known only to her. Michael was dead. That was a fact that could not be disputed. But Rebel? She wasn't just mourning—she was shattering. Daniel stood a few feet off, pacing, his annoyance barely contained. He rubbed his face repeatedly, cursing softly. Every other step, he'd look at Rebel, then at me, as if expecting I had some magic trick up my sleeve to resolve th

ROBERT I tightened my fists at my sides in the dimly lit room, my anger hardly restrained. Cigar smoke and authority weighed heavily in the air, my bosses' eyes pressing down on me like a freaking anvil. "Why the hell wasn't I informed?" My voice was razor-sharp, my anger hardly restrained. "Michael's death—who pulled the trigger? Who gave the order?" Silence. One of the men leaned back in his leather chair, exhaling a slow stream of smoke. "Your job isn't to ask questions, Robert. It's to follow orders." I laughed, shaking my head. "This is going to blow up in our faces. You have no clue what you just did. Rebel isn't going to grieve—she's going to explode. She's going to want vengeance. You think you can handle that? You think she'll just cry and move on?" One of them sighed, rubbing his temples as though he was already weary of this conversation. "We anticipated some reaction. But that is not your concern. You are a soldier, Robert. You do your role. Nothing more." I