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Chapter 42 — Between Closed Doors
公開日:
2026-05-23 18:37:21
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Betrayed by My Ex, Claimed by His Boss Chapter 43 — Between Us, the Atlantic
"Evelyn." His voice was lower than usual, roughened by a night of absolute exhaustion. "Talk to me." I didn't stop. I tightened my grip on my handbag, forcing my breathing to remain steady as I stepped into the hallway. "There’s nothing to discuss," I said, my voice carrying a clinical, flat chill that surprised even myself. Lucian stared at me, his dark eyes intense, drilling into the narrow space between us. "That’s not true." I ignored him. Grabbing the handle of my suitcase, I extended the metal bar with a sharp click and turned toward the door. "Evelyn, wait." A faint flicker of unease cracked through his usually impenetrable facade. He stepped directly into my path, his posture softening in a way that felt entirely uncharacteristic for Lucian Blackwood. He reached out, his long fingers hovering just inches from mine, as if desperately trying to find a footing on shifting sand. "Don't rush back today. I... I had Elias arrange a tour. A private vineyard overlooking the lake
Betrayed by My Ex, Claimed by His Boss Chapter 42 — Between Closed Doors
The silence of the master bedroom was absolute, heavy, and suffocating. I stood in front of the vanity mirror, staring at my own reflection in the dim light. Slowly, mechanically, I reached up and unclasped the diamond earrings Lucian had given me on the first day of our arrangement. I let them drop onto the marble countertop. They landed with a sharp, hollow clink. My mind was a relentless, chaotic loop. The VIP lounge. Isabella leaning seamlessly into his space. “Some clauses are decided at birth.” I gripped the edges of the marble vanity, squeezing my eyes shut. A part of me knew it was absurd to overthink it. Lucian Blackwood was not a man who could be manipulated or forced into an arranged marriage. He bowed to no one. He didn't let ancient families dictate his future. But if that were true... why the absolute secrecy? Why did he deliberately intercept her arrival and hide it behind a casual 'logistical issue'? If there was nothing to hide, why couldn't he just tell me? Th
Betrayed by My Ex, Claimed by His Boss Chapter 41 — Fault Line
The heavy mahogany door of the suite closed, instantly shutting out the distant, glittering roar of the gala. The familiar scent of cedarwood and alpine chill wrapped around me—a scent that had spent the last few days offering a dangerous illusion of safety, but now felt entirely like a trap. Lucian was sitting in the armchair by the floor-to-ceiling windows. He had already discarded his suit jacket, the top buttons of his white dress shirt undone, revealing the strong, corded lines of his throat. He looked remarkably relaxed, a rare display of lethargy for a man who usually ruled Wall Street with an iron fist. The moment he heard the door click, his dark eyes snapped up, a deep, uncharacteristic warmth instantly flooding his gaze. "You're back," Lucian said, standing up. His long strides closed the distance between us seamlessly. He reached out, his broad hand coming up with a natural, burning heat, intending to brush a stray lock of hair from my cheek and gently take off my diamon
Betrayed by My Ex, Claimed by His Boss Chapter 40 — The Elegant Poison
Alistair Ashcroft materialized from the glittering crowd, his approach unhurried and effortlessly commanding. His winter-sea eyes were locked entirely on me, brimming with a dark, amused fascination. "You move quickly, Ms. Thorne," Alistair murmured, stopping just at the edge of my personal space. His voice was a smooth, aristocratic drawl that effortlessly cut through the ambient noise of the gala. "I must admit, watching your little performance just now was quite entertaining." I simply held my champagne flute, keeping my expression perfectly composed. I wondered briefly if he had heard the exact terms I had just offered the cousins. "I'm merely doing my job, Mr. Ashcroft," I replied smoothly, meeting his gaze. "Though I wasn't aware Maison Delacroix was hosting an audience tonight." A low, genuine chuckle vibrated in his chest. "I always keep an eye on interesting shifts in the market. It seems Victor Vaughn found himself a rather effective strategist." He took a slow sip of h
Betrayed by My Ex, Claimed by His Boss Chapter 39 — The Man Across the Ballroom
The annual Geneva Global Finance Gala was a sea of crystal chandeliers, flowing champagne, and the quiet, dangerous hum of European old money.I stood near the entrance of the ballroom, smoothing a hand down the side of my midnight-blue gown. The heavy silk draped flawlessly, catching the light as I took a steadying breath and stepped fully into the crowd.It took me less than fifteen minutes to locate my targets.Henri and Laurent Delacroix stood near a quieter alcove by the terrace doors. They were cousins, both holding significant shares of the Delacroix empire, and both visibly anxious about the impending hostile takeover from Alistair Ashcroft.I took a glass of champagne from a passing tray and approached them with a perfectly calibrated, disarming smile."Henri. Laurent," I greeted smoothly. "Evelyn Thorne. I’ve been handling Victor Delacroix’s strategic negotiations."Henri stiffened slightly, his grip tightening on his glass. "Ms. Thorne. I believe o
Betrayed by My Ex, Claimed by His Boss Chapter 38 — A Temporary Escape
Waiting for us in the curved driveway was a vintage, silver Aston Martin, gleaming flawlessly under the sun.He opened the passenger door for me with effortless grace. Moments later, the low, powerful roar of the engine echoed through the quiet streets as we left the city behind.We drove along the winding coastal roads, ascending the mountains that bordered Lake Geneva. I didn't roll up the window. For the first time in months, I let the rushing wind tear through my usually controlled hair, not bothering to smooth it back into place. I leaned my head back against the leather seat, closing my eyes to feel the sun on my skin.When I finally opened them, I turned my head to look at Lucian. His hands were relaxed on the leather steering wheel, the sharp, elegant line of his jaw illuminated by the afternoon sun. As if sensing my gaze, he glanced over, a faint, breathtakingly gentle smile playing at the corner of his lips. In the tight, sunlit space of the speeding car, the s
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