Lahat ng Kabanata ng Seducing my Ex's StepFather: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 18

Isla's pov The Grand Ballroom of the Central Banking Syndicate was a gilded cage of glass, gold, and masked predators. Crystal chandeliers hung like frozen constellations from the vaulted ceiling, casting a sharp brilliance over the sea of Arkenwald's elite. Everyone wore a mask, their true intentions hidden behind velvet, silk, and molded gold. But I didn't need to see their faces to know they were watching us.I leaned heavily into Alaric’s side as we walked down the grand marble staircase. My hand rested on the fine wool of his sleeve, feeling the rigid strength of his forearm beneath the fabric. For the evening, I wore a gown of deep crimson satin that pooled around my ankles, contrasted by a delicate silver filigree mask that covered the upper half of my face. Alaric wore a stark black coat and a heavy, obsidian mask that made him look like a myth brought to life."Smile, little bird," Alaric murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that barely carried over the swelling orc

Devon’s pov The air in Alaric’s private study always smelled like old money and expensive cedar, a constant, suffocating reminder of everything he had and everything I had just lost.My hands shook as I slotted my government-issued biometric key into his desk terminal. If the security team caught me, my political clearance wouldn't just be revoked; I’d be facing a federal penitentiary. But panic had evolved into a cold, clinical fury hours ago. The market crash Alaric engineered had wiped out my accounts, my reputation, and my future. I was ruined. And a ruined man has absolutely nothing left to fear.The terminal chimed softly, recognizing my high-level credentials. I didn’t waste time looking for tax evasions or petty corporate fraud. I needed the kill shot. I bypassed the standard cloud drives and began scanning the physical architecture of the estate. There it was: a massive, off-grid power draw directly beneath the foundations. A subterranean vault.Leaving the terminal lo

Isla's pov The taste of copper and drywall dust coated my tongue. I scrambled up from the shattered marble floor, my breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. My fingers dug into the ruined fabric of my blouse, my throat burning where Devon’s hands had been just minutes before. The bruising was already setting in, a tight, painful band around my neck. "Isla! Stay down!" Alaric’s voice cut through the ringing in my ears. He was already on his feet, stepping over the glass shards, his face a mask of absolute fury as he racked the bolt of his rifle. Through the gaping, shattered frame of the terrace doors, the storm was howling, driving sheets of rain into the grand foyer. Outside, the dark expanse of the Atlantic crashed violently against the cliffs below. I pushed myself up against a splintered pillar, my knees shaking. "He... he has Vance," I choked out, coughing as the smoke from the collapsed chandelier stung my lungs. "They’re heading for the docks." Alaric didn't answer.

Isla's pov I sat at the long mahogany table, nursing a cup of black coffee. The dark bruises on my neck were concealed beneath the high collar of my blouse, but the cold clarity in my chest was entirely visible.Alaric was sitting beside me with his posture immaculate, the image of a man who hadn't spent the night hunting down a traitor on a storm-slicked cliffside.The heavy glass doors swung open, and Marcus walked in, flanked by two of his senior legal advisors. Marcus was Devon’s primary political sponsor and the man who had spent the last six months trying to orchestrate a hostile takeover of our joint venture. He wore a smug, patronizing smile, entirely unaware that his entire operation had collapsed hours ago."Alaric....Miss," Marcus said, smoothly pulling out a chair at the opposite end of the table and sitting down with a theatrical sigh."Her name is Isla." Alaric interjected. Marcus nodded his head in acknowledgement. "I must say, calling an emergency board meeting a