Chapter Thirty Eight: I Can't Let You Go

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• MARRIED TO THE CEO WHO RUINED ME: HIS BRIDE, HIS REVENGE   Chapter Fifty Three: Be careful

  The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Samantha stood there, her perfectly manicured fingers gripping her designer handbag so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Her eyes, sharp as daggers, fixed on Marceline with the kind of hatred that burns slow and deep. She looked like a predator who had finally cornered her prey, ready to deliver the killing blow.Samantha's lips curled into a sneer, her face twisting with disgust as she looked Marceline up and down like she was examining something nasty she'd found on the bottom of her shoe. The expensive perfume she wore couldn't mask the bitterness that seemed to radiate from her very pores."You've become something else, I must confess," Samantha said, her voice dripping with venom. Each word came out slow and deliberate, like drops of poison falling from her tongue. "Marceline, you have no shame at all."She took a step closer, her heels clicking against the marble floor like a countdown to destruction. Her wh

• MARRIED TO THE CEO WHO RUINED ME: HIS BRIDE, HIS REVENGE   Chapter Fifty Two: Confrontation

  The leather chair was cold against Marceline's back. She shifted around, trying to get comfortable. The office looked like every other corporate space - all gray and black, just like Cross's soul. She ran her fingers over the armrest. Expensive stuff. The walls had awards and certificates she couldn't read from where she sat. Pictures of Cross shaking hands with suits. A world she was married into but never belonged to.Quiet. The clock on the wall was too loud. Tick. Tick. Tick. She checked her phone. Cross still hasn't been back. Typical. He called her here like she worked for him instead of being his wife. Well, wife on paper. Their marriage was more like a business deal than anything with feelings.Her wedding ring caught light from the big windows. Heavy. Expensive. Like wearing handcuffs made of diamonds. She twisted it around her finger - something she did a lot since the wedding. The diamond was perfect, the setting fancy. Cross made sure everyone knew what it cost. Image was

• MARRIED TO THE CEO WHO RUINED ME: HIS BRIDE, HIS REVENGE   Chapter Fifty One: New Trouble

  Marceline's fingers drummed against the polished mahogany desk as she processed Alvin's words. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across her office, highlighting the tension etched in her features. She lifted her chin defiantly, her dark eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and determination. "I'd love to see you try to get me," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper but laced with steel. The challenge hung in the air between them like a gauntlet thrown down. Alvin's jaw tightened as he straightened his tie with deliberate precision. His eyes never left her face as he took a step closer to her desk, his presence looming over the space between them. "Mark my words, Marceline," he said, his voice low and threatening. "I'll be back for you. Cross can never have you-not truly. What you two have is nothing more than a facade, and we both know it." He paused at the door, his hand resting on the brass han

• MARRIED TO THE CEO WHO RUINED ME: HIS BRIDE, HIS REVENGE   Chapter Fifty: I Will Have You

  The room fell into a heavy silence that seemed to stretch on forever, the only sound being the gentle hum of the air conditioning and the distant murmur of traffic from the street below. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, suddenly, Marceline's laughter shattered the quiet like glass breaking against stone. It started as a soft chuckle but quickly escalated into full-blown laughter that echoed off the walls. Her shoulders shook as she pressed a hand to her stomach, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Alvin's brow furrowed deeply as he watched her, confusion etched across his angular features. His hands hung awkwardly at his sides, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly caught off guard by her reaction. "What's... what's funny?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked at her with genuine surprise. The confident facade he'd been wearing moments before began to crack, reveali

• MARRIED TO THE CEO WHO RUINED ME: HIS BRIDE, HIS REVENGE   Chapter Fourty Nine: I'll Take Care Of You

  The silence was almost overwhelming. Marceline leaned back in the chair, letting her eyes drift across the cityscape visible through the windows. The view was stunning, but it also made her feel incredibly small and isolated. Her phone's shrill ringtone shattered the quiet, and she fumbled in her purse to find it. The caller ID showed Cora's name, and she felt a mix of relief and apprehension as she answered. "Celine, honey, how are you doing?" Cora's familiar voice carried both concern and excitement. "I just saw the news about you and Cross on three different channels. The reporters are calling it the 'wedding of the decade' and—" "I'm okay, Cora," Marceline interrupted gently, not ready to discuss the media circus surrounding her life. "How's mother doing? What was her reaction when she saw the news?" There was a pause on the other end, and Marceline could practically hear her sister choosing her words carefully. "Well,

• MARRIED TO THE CEO WHO RUINED ME: HIS BRIDE, HIS REVENGE   Chapter Fourty Eight: I'm Sorry

  The marble floors echoed with their footsteps as Cross led Marceline through the labyrinthine corridors of his corporate headquarters. The walls were adorned with abstract art pieces that probably cost more than most people's annual salaries, and the air carried the subtle scent of expensive cologne mixed with freshly brewed coffee from the executive lounge. "Good morning, Mr. Cross," came the chorus of greetings from impeccably dressed employees who straightened their postures as their CEO passed by. Some cast curious glances at Marceline, no doubt recognizing her from the morning's headlines. "Morning, Johnson. Sarah. Good to see you back, Martinez," Cross responded with practiced ease, his authoritative presence commanding respect without effort. His hand remained protectively placed on the small of Marceline's back, guiding her through the maze of glass-walled offices and bustling workstations. Marceline tried to maintain h