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External Pressure Returns

Author: Pamora
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-03-22 16:09:35
Adrian POV

The first alert arrives at 5:12 a.m.

Adrian is already awake.

Sleep has never been reliable. Not since childhood, not since boardrooms replaced classrooms, not since he learned that losing control happens in moments of inattention.

His phone vibrates once against the nightstand.

Encrypted channel.

Priority tag.

He reads the headline preview without opening the full report.

FINANCIAL COLUMNISTS QUESTION COLE SUCCESSION TIMELINE

His expression doesn’t change.

Of cour
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  • I Married the Man My Ex Could Never Compete With    The Hidden Enemy

    Adrian. POV By the time the markets open the next morning, I already know something is wrong. It isn’t obvious at first. Most people watching Cole Group stock would see strength. The price holds steady despite yesterday’s rumors about the heir. Analysts continue calling the company stable. But I’ve watched markets too long to trust surface stability. Numbers tell stories. And the numbers this morning are whispering something I don’t like. I’m standing in my office when Damien walks in without knocking. That alone tells me the situation isn’t routine. He closes the door behind him. “You saw the Carrington interview?” he asks. “Yes.” “And the rumor about the heir.” “Yes.” Damien places a tablet on my desk and slides it toward me. “Then you should see this.” I look down at the screen. A list of transactions fills the display. Cole Group shares. Purchased in blocks. Small blocks. Carefully spaced across multiple brokerages. Individually, each purchase looks harmless.

  • I Married the Man My Ex Could Never Compete With    A New Enemy Appears

    Lydia POV The rumor begins the way most rumors do. Quietly. Almost politely. I’m sitting in the living room the next morning when it appears on the television. The financial channel plays softly in the background while I scroll through messages on my phone. It’s a habit I’ve picked up since marrying Adrian. If I don’t watch the news, someone eventually sends it to me anyway. Today the host looks unusually interested. “Cole Group shares remain strong this week following continued speculation about succession,” she says smoothly. Succession. That word again. My eyes lift to the screen. The segment continues. “However, some investors are now raising new questions regarding the timeline surrounding the Cole heir.” My fingers stop moving. Timeline. I already know where this is going. The host turns toward the guest seated beside her. An older man in a dark suit, the kind of investor who looks comfortable speaking about markets and empires. “Mr. Carrington,” she says, “you

  • I Married the Man My Ex Could Never Compete With    Adrian’s Breaking Point

    Adrian POV I’m in the middle of a board meeting when my phone vibrates. Normally I ignore interruptions during these sessions. Twelve executives sit around the long glass table, waiting for my decision on a logistics acquisition worth several hundred million dollars. But the screen lights up with a priority alert. Security Command. That doesn’t happen unless something is wrong. “Continue,” I say to the CFO, standing from my chair. No one questions it. They know better. I step into the hallway and answer the call. “Owen.” My head of security rarely calls directly. “Sir,” he says. His voice is calm. Too calm. “What happened?” “There was an incident involving Mrs. Cole’s vehicle.” Every muscle in my body tightens. “Define incident.” “A car began following her after she left the clinic.” My pulse spikes. “How long?” “Approximately twelve minutes.” “Twelve minutes?” I repeat. “Yes, sir.” The hallway suddenly feels too small. “What the hell were you doing for those

  • I Married the Man My Ex Could Never Compete With    The Baby Changes Everything

    Lydia POV The clinic used to feel private. Now it feels like a press conference waiting to happen. I notice the cameras before the car even stops. Two photographers stand across the street pretending to check their phones. Another one lingers near the entrance of the building with a long lens angled toward the driveway. They’re trying to look casual. They aren’t very good at it. The driver slows the car. “Mrs. Cole, we may need to use the side entrance.” “Because of them?” I ask. “Yes.” I look through the window again. The photographers are already shifting closer. They know it’s me. Of course they do. My schedule isn’t supposed to be public, but somehow these people always know where I’m going. Another reminder that privacy stopped existing the moment I married Adrian. “It’s fine,” I say. “We’ll use the front.” The driver hesitates. “Mr. Cole prefers—” “I know what Mr. Cole prefers.” The car door opens before he can argue. The noise hits immediately. “Mrs. Cole

  • I Married the Man My Ex Could Never Compete With    Marcus Strikes Quietly

    Adrain POV I learned about the investigation at 6:12 in the morning. The message appears on my phone before the sun has fully risen over the city. Media inquiry flagged. Subject: Lydia Cole. I read the alert twice. Then I sit up. Beside me, Lydia is still asleep. The room is quiet except for the soft rhythm of her breathing. Morning light filters faintly through the curtains, painting pale lines across the floor. For a moment I watch her. Then I open the report. The source isn’t a journalist. It’s an investigator. Private. Paid. And whoever hired him asked for something very specific. Full background trace on Lydia Bennett before the relationship with Marcus Hale. My jaw tightens slightly. Someone is digging into Lydia’s life before Marcus. Which means this isn’t curiosity. It’s a strategy. I slide out of bed carefully so I don’t wake her. The study down the hallway is already lit when I enter. My security director, Owen, appears on the screen as soon as I activat

  • I Married the Man My Ex Could Never Compete With    The Feeling of Being Watched

    Adrain POV I start noticing the pattern on a Tuesday morning. At first, it feels like a coincidence. By afternoon, I know it isn’t. The first sign is the car. Normally the driver arrives five minutes before I leave the house. Adrian’s staff is efficient, but never overly eager. Today when I walk out of the building, the car is already waiting. Engine running. The driver is standing beside the door like he’s been there a while. “Good morning, Mrs. Cole.” “Good morning,” I reply, sliding into the back seat. I check the time on my phone. I’m early. Ten minutes early. Yet the car is already prepared. I assume Adrian changed the schedule. That wouldn’t be unusual. He tends to adjust things around me without asking. Still, something about the driver’s posture catches my attention. He isn’t surprised to see me early. He was expecting me. I shake the thought away and look out the window as the car pulls into traffic. The city moves slowly around us. Morning commuters fill

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