[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-bl-bound-to-my-enemy-the-billionaire-who-took-my":3,"chapter-bl-bound-to-my-enemy-the-billionaire-who-took-my-bl-bound-to-my-enemy-the-billionaire-who-took-my-chapter-250":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","[BL] Bound to My Enemy: The Billionaire Who Took My Girl",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1735883,2219,"Chapter 250: Operation","bl-bound-to-my-enemy-the-billionaire-who-took-my-chapter-250",250,"\u003Cp>CASSIAN\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The staging point was an empty commercial unit, a half-kilometer from the port.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was the kind of place that lived in the cracks of the city, an empty space of concrete and dust that nobody remembered to lease and nobody bothered to check.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It smelled of stale air and old damp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Reid was already a ghost in my ear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the tablet propped up against a crate, the port facility was laid out in sharp, digital lines.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Three entry points. Real-time feeds from the two monitored gates showed the world in grainy shades of gray and blue.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Serbian convoy was already there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Black SUVs, heavy and silent, parked in a perfect row. They were on schedule. Emilio’s people were on schedule.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Transaction is active,\" Reid’s voice came through, crisp and professional. \"Six on the Serbian side. Vincenti security: fourteen confirmed. The accounts are live, Cassian. I’m positioned to drain them on your signal. Once I start, I have a forty-second window before the firewalls realize the floor has dropped out from under them.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I looked at the digital clock on the screen. Then I looked at the rusted metal door.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Where is he?\" I asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Still showing his tracker at...\" Reid paused, the sound of rapid typing clicking in the background. \"Three blocks out. Moving slowly.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Of course he is,\" I muttered. Cyan didn’t move for the world; the world usually got out of his way.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The door creaked open, admitting a slice of the humid night air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cyan walked in. He wasn’t wearing tactical gear. He was wearing something dark, tailored, and obscenely expensive, the kind of clothes that looked like they belonged in a gallery, not a shipping yard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His rings caught the dim light of the tablet, silver and gold glinting on his knuckles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You’re late,\" I said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’m fashionably late,\" Cyan countered, his voice smooth and entirely unbothered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He checked his watch with a flourish.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"There’s a distinction, Cassian. Besides, the transaction is still active. I’m exactly on time.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Get the earpiece,\" I told him, nodding toward the kit on the crate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He picked it up, sliding it into his ear with practiced ease. \"Reid,\" he said. \"Good evening.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Good evening to you sir,\" Reid replied. I could hear the flat neutrality in his voice, the sound of a man who had worked with Cyan before and had learned that having an opinion on him was a waste of energy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Always a pleasure,\" Cyan chirped. He turned to me, his eyes sharpening as he looked at the tablet. \"Walk me through the current state of our little play.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>We moved out as a unit of four. Myself, Cyan, and two of my primary security, men who didn’t need instructions because they already knew how to breathe in sync with a mission.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The port district was a graveyard of industry. The air was thick with the smell of salt water, rotting wood, and diesel. Huge cranes loomed over us like the skeletons of giants. It was a place designed for things to disappear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Serbian side has completed transfer verification,\" Reid whispered in our ears. \"Funds are moving. Accounts are accessible. Fourteen security. I’m marking their positions now.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>We didn’t use the secret entrance. We didn’t crawl through the underwater tunnel I’d mapped months ago. Instead, we walked straight toward the monitored gate. We walked in like we were expected.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I knew the cameras were watching. I wanted them to see us. It was a message. To a man like Emilio Vincenti, walking through the front door looked like arrogance, the mistake of a man who thought he was untouchable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To me, it was a way to keep his eyes exactly where I wanted them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The first two guards didn’t even have time to reach for their radios. My men took them down with a silent, brutal efficiency that required no explanation. Two bodies dragged into the shadows, two obstacles removed. Clean. Fast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>We hit the interior corridor, a long stretch of corrugated metal and flickering yellow lights.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two guards stood at the far end, their hands moving toward their holsters.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cyan moved before I could give the order. It wasn’t the plan, but Cyan had never been particularly good at following plans he didn’t write himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t just run at them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I watched him as he moved, it was a strange, focused sort of grace. In the half-second before he reached them, I saw his head tilt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was reading them. He was looking at the way they stood, which hand was dominant, how their weight was shifted. He wasn’t just fighting; he was analyzing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He hit the first guard with a strike that was terrifyingly precise. It wasn’t loud, but it was absolute.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He used the man’s own momentum against him, a blur of motion that ended with the guard slumped against the wall, unconscious before he hit the floor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The second guard reacted faster, his weapon snapping up the moment he saw his partner fall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cyan stepped in before it could level. One hand knocked the barrel aside, hard, forcing it off-line. At the same time, he drove his shoulder into the man’s chest, closing the distance completely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The guard stumbled. Cyan didn’t let him recover, he hooked a leg behind the man’s knee and shoved.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man hit the ground flat on his back, the weapon slipping from his grip as he went down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cyan stepped over the bodies, calmly adjusting the cuff of his sleeve.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The positioning was obvious,\" he said, his voice casual, as if we were discussing a bad seating arrangement at a dinner party.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Textbook static placement. No rotation. No contingency awareness. Honestly, it’s insulting.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Are you critiquing their security structure?\" I asked, stepping past him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’m observing,\" Cyan replied, already moving forward. \"There’s a difference.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>We reached the main floor. It was a massive, echoing space filled with towering stacks of shipping crates. In the center, under a ring of harsh floodlights, the deal was reaching its conclusion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Serbian team was there, six men in heavy coats, surrounding several open crates filled with matte-black hardware. The Vincenti guards were spread out in a perimeter, watching the shadows.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Financial transfer confirmed,\" Reid reported. \"Accounts are open. Ready to drain on your signal.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hold,\" I said. \"Not yet.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I scanned the room. Something was missing. I looked up, my eyes searching the metal walkways that crisscrossed the ceiling of the warehouse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There. On the upper level east.\u003C\u002Fp>",1081,"2026-06-06T16:23:43.455Z",1,"novelbin.me","da367192eada8e519c30a852476f4028f793c04b599ff3ef492304b9b918a298","bl-bound-to-my-enemy-the-billionaire-who-took-my-chapter-100","bl-bound-to-my-enemy-the-billionaire-who-took-my-chapter-99",307,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fbl-bound-to-my-enemy-the-billionaire-who-took-my-cover.jpg"]