Lahat ng Kabanata ng Kiss Me While The World Burns: Kabanata 121 - Kabanata 130

The private fitting lounge downtown was an exclusive establishment designed for elite clientele. Soft velvet couches, floor-to-ceiling gilded mirrors, and quiet instrumental music gave the space an air of refined luxury. Victoria walked into the fitting room, adjusting the lapels of her black trench coat. Vito walked right beside her, his sharp eyes scanning the corners out of habit before giving a subtle nod to the head tailor waiting near the back. Kany followed closely behind, carrying a garment bag and her tablet, her eyes vigilant. "I will be out in a minute," Victoria said quietly, stepping behind the silk privacy curtain with the tailor to change into the custom evening gown designed for the Legacy Awards. Vito leaned against a marble pillar, crossing his arms, while Kany sat on one of the velvet couches, reviewing the security schedule. As Victoria stepped back out, smoothing down the floor-length dark emerald dress, the front doors of the lounge clicked open. Jamie walke

The heavy oak door of Victoria’s penthouse apartment clicked shut, sealing out the harsh afternoon light and the endless noise of Midtown traffic. For the first time in weeks, the suffocating, frantic fog in Victoria's mind had cleared. She walked across the wide hardwood floor, her heels clicking softly, feeling a strange, solid resolve settle deep over her heart. The terror was still there, lurking in the shadows of her mind, but beneath it lay an unshakeable instinct. She was keeping this baby, no matter how chaotic her world became. She walked straight into her master bedroom, locking the door behind her. Passing her vanity, she stepped into the walk-in closet and knelt beside the built-in wall unit. She slid back a hidden panel, exposing the sleek digital keypad of her private, unlinked safe. Victoria typed in her eight-digit passcode, and the heavy metal door popped open with a quiet hiss. She reached into her coat pocket, pulling out the small, folded printed receipt from

Inside, the grand hall of the Grand Palais Plaza was a breathtaking spectacle that rivaled the Met Gala in sheer scale and influence. Towering marble pillars were wrapped in cascading floral arrangements of white orchids and silver vines, while massive crystal chandeliers hung from high vaulted ceilings, throwing golden light over hundreds of velvet-draped tables. Champagne flowed endlessly as tuxedoed waiters carrying silver trays of caviar and crystal flutes wove through the crowd of billionaires, Hollywood actors, world-renowned musicians, and international diplomats. The air was thick with the weight of raw power, money, and thick, relentless gossip. As Victoria crossed the threshold, the room practically shifted on its axis. She didn't just walk into the gala; she dominated it. Holding fifty percent of the political influence across New York and neighboring provinces meant that every Senator, Governor, and high-ranking official in the building owed their allegiance—or their fea

The heavy silence hanging over the grand ballroom felt almost physical, suffocating in its absolute weight. At Table One, Victoria sat completely frozen, her hand resting motionless over the emerald silk of her dress. Her breath caught squarely in her throat as the host's voice echoed through the high-powered speaker system: "...we welcome the Chief Executive Officer of Argentis Corporation, Mr. Vito De Luca!" De Luca. Victoria’s world tilted sharply on its axis. A sudden wave of intense dizziness washed over her, the room spinning as her vision blurred at the edges. Her heart slammed against her ribs with a violent, deafening thud as she stared up at Vito. Her jaw remained locked in utter, unadulterated shock. The smooth, charming brother who had casually re-entered her life and joined her business circle, the brother who claimed to just be an ambitious associate expanding into the New York market, was the shadow titan behind the most ruthless, untouchable logistics empire in the

Thousands of miles away in Sicily, the night was dead quiet. Inside a windowless room buried deep within the De Luca family estate, the only light came from the pale, blue glow of six high-definition monitors. Server stacks hummed rhythmically in the corner, throwing cool air across the concrete floor. Vin sat slouched in a low leather chair, a half-empty mug of black coffee resting near his elbow, his dark eyes bloodshot as he worked tirelessly. For seventy-two hours straight, he had been dissecting the digital footprint behind the massive Interpol leak and the exact file that framed Victoria for selling out Giordano’s international operations to federal agents. "Come on," Vin muttered under his breath, his fingers flying across a mechanical keyboard with dizzying speed. Lines of green code cascaded down his screen like falling rain. "Vicky wouldn't run to Interpol. Someone set her up." He dug deep into the system's core architecture, peeling back layers of fake identities and en