All Chapters of Divorce Clause: Heir Included: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Madeline was a crumpled heap of white silk and broken promises at the base of the stairs. Her wails grated against the silence of the private wing like a serrated blade on bone. From the landing, the angles of her legs looked wrong—fractured, jagged, a mess of expensive stockings and ruined skin. She was young, a Winters; she’d heal, but the agony was a hell of a price for a performance.I stood paralyzed at the top of the flight. My heart felt like it was trying to punch through my ribs. One second I was trying to bargain for my life and the life of my kid, and the next, Madeline was trying to toss me into a marble abyss because I was "in the way.""Why, Zack? Why would you do it?" her voice rose in a shrill, tremulous howl that brought nurses sprinting from every direction.They swarmed her. Shouted orders. Stained the floor with trauma kits. Nobody looked up. I was a ghost in a hospital gown, watching the scene through a fog of pure, unadulterated shock. It was her word against min

The storm had passed, but the cabin felt like a tomb. Zack woke to the weight of Nathan’s body—a solid, grounding anchor against the mattress. The heavy curtains were still drawn, but the edges bled with the harsh, unforgiving light of a Havenfall morning. Nathan’s fingers were tracing the map of Zack’s ribs, his touch light, almost reverent, as if he were memorizing the skin before it was taken away.Nathan must have carried him to the bed after the panic finally broke. He lay beneath Zack now, the steady thrum of his heartbeat echoing through Zack’s cheek."Morning," Nathan rumbled. The sound was low, vibrating through the mattress and into Zack’s bones.Zack didn't move. He kept his face tucked into the crook of Nathan’s neck, breathing in the scent of rain and expensive tobacco. "You didn't sleep.""Hard to sleep with the world ending outside," Nathan said. His hand moved to Zack’s nape, his thumb rubbing the sensitive skin there. "Madeline’s stable. They’ve got her on a morphine

"What the hell is this?"The door didn't just open; it hit the stopper with a crack that sounded like a bone snapping. Nathan stood there, a wall of tailored charcoal wool and cold, hard violence. His tie was ripped open, his hair a mess from the wind, and his eyes—usually a calculated silver—were now dark, turbulent, and fixed entirely on Drake’s hands against my face.Drake didn't flinch. He didn't even stand up. He just let his thumbs swipe one last time across my cheekbones, drying the salt, before slowly pulling back. He looked at Nathan with the bored expression of a man who owned the room."You're late, Durand," Drake drawled. "By about ten gallons of water and a near-corpse."Nathan’s jaw worked, a muscle jumping in his cheek. He didn't look at Drake. He looked at me—at the oversized blanket, my damp hair, and the way I was shaking. He moved then. He didn't walk; he closed the distance in two heavy, terrifying strides."Out," Nathan rasped, the word vibrating in the small room

I stared at the document on my desk, my jaw creaking as I ground my teeth. It wasn't a standard business contract or a peace treaty. It was a bounty. The layout was clinical, the kind the Feds used for high-priority targets. It listed physical markers, blood-type rarities, and specific genetic traits. At the bottom, a staggering figure in non-sequential bills promised a fortune for the capture of any surviving members of the Volana lineage.A crude sketch sat beneath the text. Dark hair, mismatched eyes. It didn't look like Zack, not really, but the text was a roadmap to his front door for anyone with a grudge and a sense of greed."Where the hell did this come from?" I snapped at Lucas.Lucas had called me right before my father’s anniversary gala, his voice tight. He knew the importance of tonight—Julian’s thirty-year grip on Havenfall was being toasted by every shark in the tri-state area. Lucas wouldn't have pulled me away for a trifle."One of our earners in the East picked it up

Zack’s fingers shook as he traced the heavy silver embroidery on the lapel of his black wedding suit. The silk felt cold, a constant reminder of the hollow ritual ahead. He looked like a prince of Havenfall, but inside, he was already a ghost.He remembered three years ago, standing in this same dressing room. Nathan had adjusted his tie, his hands lingering on Zack’s chest, his eyes promising a protection that felt like a sanctuary. Back then, Zack was a broken boy pulled from Logan’s cellar. Now, he was just a liability being liquidated.That was the tradition of Cocolink dissolution. You end it exactly how you started.The same designer suits. The same midnight-black roses. The same assembly of stone-faced capos and family vultures watching from the pews of the private chapel. Instead of a blood oath to protect, they would sign a ledger of separation. Instead of a shared future, they would carve up the map of Havenfall and walk into the dark in opposite directions.Nathan wouldn't