Bonds

Alex's POV The days blurred together. I'd park across the street from the office building, hidden in the shadows. From there, I could watch her flit around inside, a smile playing on her lips whenever something went right with the renovations. It was a different kind of smile than the one! remembered, brighter, less guarded. It felt strange seeing it directed at something other than me.

Part of me wanted to walk right in, tell her I was there, but another part, a louder part these days, held me back. There was still much that needed to be dealt with. My father's words echoed endlessly in my head. I had looked into Ivan yet again and there was no history of his parents being killed in a violent encounter which my father had gone on to tell me about, everything about his file had been scrapped to perfection, same with Miranda's. That's why I couldn't find any dirt on him. That's why he seemed almost perfect. Because he had created that facade of perfection so well that it was hard to see anything beneath but I knew he wouldn't wipe his slate clean unless he had something to hide and I was going to go deeper and find out more. It helped that he had basically given me the railings of his company and i was going to use that to my advantage but that was by the way.

The anger over Daniel simmered down a notch after that revelation. Didn't mean it went away entirely, not a chance. But at least the burning need to tear him limb from limb wasn't quite so intense. I'd launched another attack, a calculated one, meant to send a message - I wasn't backing down. But I'd also made sure casualties were minimal. Looking back, I didn't want to turn into the monster my father became, consumed by hate and utterly alone.

Stepping out of the car, I blew out a long breath. The weight of everything pressed down on me. The rejection, raw and fresh, still stung. It wasn't just words, it was a look, a flicker of something cold and final in her eyes. My wolf whined in protest, but I couldn't deny it.

There was no coming back from this.

The truth was, even if things hadn't gone down the way they did, our story was probably doomed from the start. All I did was speed up the inevitable. The ache in my chest intensified as I glanced at the pictures on my phone. The originals were gone, she had taken them, but I'd kept digital copies. Maybe to punish myself, to keep the pain fresh.

Why? That question echoed endlessly in my mind. Why hadn't I confronted her? Maybe pushing her away, burying my emotions deep, would've been easier. Easier to see the betrayal dawn on her face, the realization that I'd seen through her lies.

Adrian. Throwing him in jail. My best friend. He'd sworn he wouldn't do that to me, but the words rang hollow now. No point in dwelling on regrets, I told myself. No point in second-guessing everything I'd done for the past four years. I clung to that belief, the belief that the woman I loved most had betrayed me with my closest friend. But the doubt, the nagging "what if," wouldn't be silenced.

The mansion loomed in front of me, a monument to a life that felt increasingly hollow. Inside, the silence was deafening. It used to be filled with the sound of Amaya's laughter, the warmth of her presence. Now, it echoed with the temptiness of missed chances, of unspoken truths.

I poured myself a drink, the amber liquid burning a familiar path down my throat. It didn't numb the pain, not really, but it gave me a brief illusion of control. I wandered through the rooms, each one a memory trap. The living room where we'd spent countless nights talking. laughing, dreaming. The kitchen where she'd experimented with new recipes, her joy contagious. The bedroom, a battlefield of tangled sheets and whispered promises, now a constant reminder of what I'd lost.

The bedroom door creaked shut behind me, the sound echoing in the demeaning silence. Everywhere I looked, there were ghosts - it was like she was suddenly everywhere. I could almost still smell her perfume. Four years had passed and it was like she finally just started existing again.

A sharp knock on the door startled me out of my reverie. "Come in," I mumbled, my voice hoarse.

10:29 Sat, 22 Jun Chapter 88

The door creaked open again and Miranda stepped inside. She was dressed in a sleek black dress that clung to her curves, but for once, her usual confident swagger seemed muted. Her eyes flickered around the room, landing on the dishevelled bed for a brief moment before settling on me.

"Well, isn't that a lot on your mind for one lonely night?"

I ignored her statement. Since I couldn't find whatever it was I thought I was looking for from digging, I might as well learn from one of the sources itself.

"need to talk."

She paused in the doorway, her gaze sharp. It was like she was trying to see right through me, to decipher the tangled mess of emotions chuming beneath the surface. Finally, with a sigh, she walked further into the room and perched on the edge of the armchair opposite the bed.

We sat there in silence for a beat. Maybe this was why I didn't want to end this charade of a marriage, she somehow made me less lonely.

"Well?" she finally snapped, her voice laced with impatience. "What is it you want to talk about?"

"Your parents, I blurted out, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

The change in her expression was instantaneous. The irritated scowl in her eyes vanished, replaced by a coldness that I didn't expect. The color drained from her face, leaving her looking pale and drawn. But for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something else crossed her features. It was gone so quickly I almost convinced myself I'd imagined it then she put on the mask she always wore.

"My parents? What about them? Why are you suddenly interested in dead people?"

I ignored the bitterness in her tone, the way it seemed to drip with hidden meaning. "How did they die?" I asked, my voice low and steady.

She let out a humorless laugh. "Like everyone else, I suppose. They stopped breathing, their bodies decayed, and now they're pushing up daisies."

I narrowed my gaze at her. "Don't play dumb, Miranda. You know that's not what I'm asking."NôvelDrama.Org is the owner.

"You invested a ton of money in Ivan's company. Now you're suddenly curious about our family history? What's the game, Alex?"

I held her stare, refusing to back down. "Just answer the question. How did they die?"

The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken tension. Miranda seemed to be battling an internal war, her eyes flickering with a mix of defiance and something else I couldn't quite place. Finally, she spoke.

"it was an accident. A car crash. They were gone just like that."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. There was something in her eyes, a flicker of something hidden that told a different story.

"Are you sure?" I pressed, my voice low and dangerous, "Because from what I've heard, it might not have been so accidental after all.”

Her voice snapped like a whip. "An accident! That's what happened! They were driving home one night, rain slickroads, bad turn-boom! Gone. Now you happy? You satisfied dredging up all this painful crap for me?"

Her words stung, the anger in her voice raw and real. A part of me flinched, guilt twisting in my gut.

TU-29 I SUL, 22 JUN Chapter 85

Was 1 being a jerk?

Was I just piling on when she was clearly hurting already? But the suspicion gnawed at me, relentless.

"Cut the crap. You and I both know it wasn't an accident."

Her eyes widened, a flicker of something like panic crossing hen features before she slammed them shut, taking a deep,shaky breath. "What are you talking about?"

I had to give it to her. She was a really good actress.

My gaze bore into hers as I forward in my chair. "You know that their death wasn't an accident. And you know my father was responsible for their death."

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