Signed To Be His Wife - Chapter 21: Chapter 21
You are reading Signed To Be His Wife, Chapter 21: Chapter 21. Read more chapters of Signed To Be His Wife.
Snow drifted lazily against the window of the Austrian safehouse, quieting the chaos that still raged across global headlines.
But inside, no one was sleeping.
Amara paced the hardwood floor, her nerves sharper than ever. Though the Zurich server had been exposed, and Project Atlas unraveled in front of billions, there was no victory parade. Only waiting.
Waiting for retaliation.
Waiting for what Victor would do next.
Dominic stood at the fireplace, staring into the flames. His coat was still wet from the escape. His face looked older, harder. But when he turned to her, his voice was calm.
“Interpol confirmed Victor is off the grid. No trace. Not in Europe. Not in Asia. Nothing.”
“He won’t run,” Amara said. “Not forever. He’s too proud.”
“He’s also cornered. And desperate men don’t hide. They burn everything around them.”
By morning, the entire team gathered in the war room—converted from a quiet study with maps, satellite feeds, and live monitors from around the world.
Gideon’s fingers flew across his keyboard. “Governments are scrambling. Every partner linked to Atlas is trying to erase themselves. But the internet never forgets.”
Tamara smirked. “Especially when I’m the one posting.”
Nolan poured black coffee into mismatched mugs. “We still have one problem. Victor isn’t just in hiding. He’s planning something. That message last night?”
He tossed a printed note onto the table.
It read, in red ink: 'Zurich was a lesson. The real test is coming.'
Amara read it aloud, her blood running cold. “What test?”
Hours later, the news channels lit up again.
BREAKING: Explosions Rock Hart Enterprises Headquarters in Manhattan
CEO Dominic Hart Declared Missing, Presumed Dead
Amara’s breath left her in a single gasp.
“What?”
Dominic cursed, pulling out his phone. “It’s a deepfake. He’s trying to erase my identity.”
Gideon confirmed. “They faked your death. That’s step one in making you disappear.”
“Step two?” Amara asked.
Tamara paled. “Taking out the people who know you’re alive.”
Just then, a second explosion report came in.
This time: Lagos, Nigeria.
The Cole Foundation. Her father’s legacy.
Gone.
Amara stumbled backward. “He’s not just retaliating. He’s rewriting history. Erasing anyone who ever mattered to us.”
Dominic grabbed her hand. “We need to end this.”
“No more defense,” she said. “We take the war to him.”
The plan was simple:
Track Victor’s inner circle.
Break their loyalty.
Bleed his empire from the inside out.
One by one.
Their first target: Soren Kael—Victor’s financial enforcer.
He controlled Victor’s crypto holdings and offshore laundering networks.
Tamara tracked him to a private casino in Monaco, a place that catered to billionaires and mercenaries alike.
“We go in quiet,” Nolan said. “No blood. Just leverage.”
Amara smiled grimly. “I have plenty of that.”
The casino was glittering madness—champagne towers, smoke-filled poker rooms, and whispers in every corner.
Amara and Dominic posed as a rich heiress and her ‘silent partner.’
Soren was at the roulette table, flirting with a redhead.
Amara approached casually, dropping a USB drive on the felt.
He glanced at it, confused.
“Play that,” she said. “Or play the next ten years of your life in prison.”
Dominic leaned over. “It’s footage of you handling payments for three Atlas hits. Plus the offshore account your wife doesn’t know about.”
Soren swallowed. “What do you want?”
“Victor’s location. And every contingency fund he hasn’t touched yet.”
By morning, Soren had given them access to a hidden vault in Luxembourg and disclosed a burner phone number used by Victor.
“I want immunity,” he added. “And protection.”
“You’ll get it,” Amara said, “if you disappear forever.”
Gideon triangulated the burner number.
Dominic stared at the blinking dot on the map.
“Morocco.”
The city of Fez.
Victor was moving. And the game was narrowing.
But something still felt off.
That night, Amara stood by the window again, unable to rest.
She stared at her reflection in the dark glass.
“I’ve changed,” she whispered.
Dominic appeared behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You’ve become who you were always meant to be.”
She turned to him. “I’m not scared anymore.”
“I am,” he admitted.
“Why?”
“Because I know what it costs to win.”
She cupped his face. “Then let’s win on our terms.”
Their kiss was quiet, but full of resolve.
No more running.
No more hiding.
In the final frame of the night, Victor stood in a candle-lit cathedral deep beneath Fez.
He watched a flickering screen showing Amara and Dominic’s latest move.
A woman stood beside him. Clara.
“She’s not backing down,” Clara said.
Victor smi
led, eyes cold. “Good. Let’s see how far she’ll go.”
He opened a box beside him. Inside was a vial of blood and a satellite trigger.
“Let’s remind her what war really looks like.”
But inside, no one was sleeping.
Amara paced the hardwood floor, her nerves sharper than ever. Though the Zurich server had been exposed, and Project Atlas unraveled in front of billions, there was no victory parade. Only waiting.
Waiting for retaliation.
Waiting for what Victor would do next.
Dominic stood at the fireplace, staring into the flames. His coat was still wet from the escape. His face looked older, harder. But when he turned to her, his voice was calm.
“Interpol confirmed Victor is off the grid. No trace. Not in Europe. Not in Asia. Nothing.”
“He won’t run,” Amara said. “Not forever. He’s too proud.”
“He’s also cornered. And desperate men don’t hide. They burn everything around them.”
By morning, the entire team gathered in the war room—converted from a quiet study with maps, satellite feeds, and live monitors from around the world.
Gideon’s fingers flew across his keyboard. “Governments are scrambling. Every partner linked to Atlas is trying to erase themselves. But the internet never forgets.”
Tamara smirked. “Especially when I’m the one posting.”
Nolan poured black coffee into mismatched mugs. “We still have one problem. Victor isn’t just in hiding. He’s planning something. That message last night?”
He tossed a printed note onto the table.
It read, in red ink: 'Zurich was a lesson. The real test is coming.'
Amara read it aloud, her blood running cold. “What test?”
Hours later, the news channels lit up again.
BREAKING: Explosions Rock Hart Enterprises Headquarters in Manhattan
CEO Dominic Hart Declared Missing, Presumed Dead
Amara’s breath left her in a single gasp.
“What?”
Dominic cursed, pulling out his phone. “It’s a deepfake. He’s trying to erase my identity.”
Gideon confirmed. “They faked your death. That’s step one in making you disappear.”
“Step two?” Amara asked.
Tamara paled. “Taking out the people who know you’re alive.”
Just then, a second explosion report came in.
This time: Lagos, Nigeria.
The Cole Foundation. Her father’s legacy.
Gone.
Amara stumbled backward. “He’s not just retaliating. He’s rewriting history. Erasing anyone who ever mattered to us.”
Dominic grabbed her hand. “We need to end this.”
“No more defense,” she said. “We take the war to him.”
The plan was simple:
Track Victor’s inner circle.
Break their loyalty.
Bleed his empire from the inside out.
One by one.
Their first target: Soren Kael—Victor’s financial enforcer.
He controlled Victor’s crypto holdings and offshore laundering networks.
Tamara tracked him to a private casino in Monaco, a place that catered to billionaires and mercenaries alike.
“We go in quiet,” Nolan said. “No blood. Just leverage.”
Amara smiled grimly. “I have plenty of that.”
The casino was glittering madness—champagne towers, smoke-filled poker rooms, and whispers in every corner.
Amara and Dominic posed as a rich heiress and her ‘silent partner.’
Soren was at the roulette table, flirting with a redhead.
Amara approached casually, dropping a USB drive on the felt.
He glanced at it, confused.
“Play that,” she said. “Or play the next ten years of your life in prison.”
Dominic leaned over. “It’s footage of you handling payments for three Atlas hits. Plus the offshore account your wife doesn’t know about.”
Soren swallowed. “What do you want?”
“Victor’s location. And every contingency fund he hasn’t touched yet.”
By morning, Soren had given them access to a hidden vault in Luxembourg and disclosed a burner phone number used by Victor.
“I want immunity,” he added. “And protection.”
“You’ll get it,” Amara said, “if you disappear forever.”
Gideon triangulated the burner number.
Dominic stared at the blinking dot on the map.
“Morocco.”
The city of Fez.
Victor was moving. And the game was narrowing.
But something still felt off.
That night, Amara stood by the window again, unable to rest.
She stared at her reflection in the dark glass.
“I’ve changed,” she whispered.
Dominic appeared behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You’ve become who you were always meant to be.”
She turned to him. “I’m not scared anymore.”
“I am,” he admitted.
“Why?”
“Because I know what it costs to win.”
She cupped his face. “Then let’s win on our terms.”
Their kiss was quiet, but full of resolve.
No more running.
No more hiding.
In the final frame of the night, Victor stood in a candle-lit cathedral deep beneath Fez.
He watched a flickering screen showing Amara and Dominic’s latest move.
A woman stood beside him. Clara.
“She’s not backing down,” Clara said.
Victor smi
led, eyes cold. “Good. Let’s see how far she’ll go.”
He opened a box beside him. Inside was a vial of blood and a satellite trigger.
“Let’s remind her what war really looks like.”
End of Signed To Be His Wife Chapter 21. Continue reading Chapter 22 or return to Signed To Be His Wife book page.