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Cracks in the Throne
Última actualización:
2025-12-12 23:53:23
Último capítulo
Married to the cold CEO Reflections of Us
Quietly, the city breathed beneath the balcony lights, unaware that two lives were standing at the edge of something irreversible.Elena rested her hands against the glass, watching the skyline blur into reflections of gold and shadow. The penthouse behind her felt different lately—not like a fortress or a cage, but like a place that had learned to soften its corners. Maybe she had changed. Maybe Damian had. Or maybe love, once stripped of fear, simply rewrote the air around them.Footsteps approached without urgency.Damian stopped beside her, close enough that warmth replaced the night’s chill. He didn’t speak at first. He had learned, slowly, that silence didn’t always mean distance.“You’ve been standing here a while,” he said.“I know,” Elena replied. “I was thinking.”“That usually means trouble.”A smile touched her lips. “For you, maybe.”He leaned his shoulder against the glass. “What’s on your mind?”She turned, studying him the way she had learned to—without armor, without
Married to the cold CEO A Promise Rekindled
Something gentle shifted in the air between them, subtle yet undeniable.Elena felt it the moment she stepped into the penthouse living room and found Damian standing by the window, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled back as if he had finally decided to breathe inside his own home. The city lights beyond the glass reflected faintly in his eyes, but for once, they didn’t seem to pull him away from the present.He turned when he sensed her, not startled—aware.“You’re back earlier than I expected,” he said.She placed her bag down slowly. “So are you.”A quiet smile touched his mouth. “I cancelled the last meeting.”Elena raised an eyebrow. “Damian Cross cancelling meetings voluntarily? That must be a historical event.”“Don’t tell Adrian,” he replied dryly. “He’ll think I’m unwell.”They shared a small laugh, soft and unguarded. Moments like these still surprised her—the ease, the absence of tension where sharp words once lived.She moved closer, resting her hands on the back of the sofa
Married to the cold CEO The Balance of Hearts
Breath lingered between them like an unanswered question, fragile yet demanding attention. Elena stood near the tall window of the Cross penthouse, city lights flickering below as if mirroring the restless conflict inside her chest. Everything felt quieter lately—not empty, but weighted. As though peace itself required effort to maintain.Behind her, Damian adjusted his cufflinks slowly, deliberately, the way he did when he was thinking too much.“You’re unusually silent,” he said at last, his voice calm but observant. “That usually means you’re carrying something alone.”Elena didn’t turn immediately. “I’m trying to understand how we got here,” she replied. “And how we stay here without losing ourselves again.”That made him pause.He crossed the room, stopping a respectful distance behind her. “Is this about the past… or the future?”She exhaled. “Both.”Turning at last, she faced him. Gone was the fragile woman who had once signed a marriage contract with shaking hands. In her plac
Married to the cold CEO A Quiet Resolution
Stillness carried a different weight these days.Not the suffocating silence that once haunted Elena Harper’s nights, but something gentler—like a held breath that no longer feared being released. She noticed it while standing by the window of the temporary apartment she had moved into weeks earlier, watching the city lights blur softly against the glass. Life had slowed, not because everything was finished, but because something inside her had finally stopped running.Damian Cross was late.Not unusually so—meetings still followed him like shadows—but tonight felt different. Tonight was not about contracts or rivals or damage control. Tonight was about something fragile and honest, something that could not be postponed without consequence.She turned away from the window and checked the table again. Two cups. A simple meal she had cooked herself. No grand gestures. No luxury. Just intention.When the door finally opened, Elena didn’t rush to greet him.Damian paused the moment he ste
Married to the cold CEO Threads of Hope
Fingers trembling slightly, Elena unfolded the letter she had found tucked in Damian’s private desk drawer. Her pulse raced as she read the words, each one carefully chosen, almost trembling with emotion, a stark contrast to the man she thought she knew so well. She had spent months trying to understand the walls Damian had built, the coldness he projected, and now she realized that vulnerability had been present all along, carefully hidden beneath steel and power.“Hope isn’t easy,” she murmured to herself, tracing a fingertip over the elegant handwriting. Damian had written this for her—perhaps as an apology, perhaps as a confession, or maybe a bridge across the distance they had endured. Her heart thumped faster, caught between fear and exhilaration.A soft knock at the door made her jump. “Elena?” Damian’s voice was tentative, hesitant, as though stepping into her space required careful negotiation.She turned, letter clutched to her chest. “I found your letter,” she said softly,
Married to the cold CEO Broken Walls, Open Doors
Shivers of anticipation ran through Elena as she stepped into Damian’s office, the scent of polished wood and faint citrus lingering in the air. It had been a week since their conversation on courage, and something unspoken had shifted between them. Both carried scars, both carried secrets—but tonight, there was an invisible invitation to breach the walls they had built around themselves.Damian rose from his chair as she approached, his tall frame imposing, yet somehow less intimidating than usual. There was a quiet vulnerability in his eyes that made her chest tighten—not from fear, but from a recognition of the man behind the façade.“I didn’t expect you,” he said, his voice low, controlled, but threaded with curiosity.“I wanted to see you,” Elena replied, her voice steady, though her hands betrayed her by curling slightly at her sides. “We need to talk—about us.”He nodded slowly, gesturing to the chair across from him, yet neither of them sat. The space between them was heavy wi
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