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CHAPTER 32: Beneath the Surface of Joy.
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2025-07-16 22:15:43
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The Billionaire Broken Bride—Married To My Enemy. CHAPTER 32: Beneath the Surface of Joy.
MICHAEL'S POVThe soft scrape of my pen across the ledger was the only sound in the study. Numbers blurred. Contracts waited patiently for my signature like obedient dogs at the foot of a distracted master. But I couldn’t focus.Not really.My attention kept drifting to the open door to the faint echo of a voice that had somehow slipped past my defenses and carved out a quiet space inside me I hadn’t consented to share.Alessa.Just hours ago, she’d floated down the hallway in a yellow dress like she was sunlight stitched into fabric, weightless, alive, untouchable.There had been something unshackled about her. Something honest. And for a moment, the mansion didn’t feel so cold.She had spun softly, a little laugh slipping past her lips like it didn’t need permission. Her joy had filled the corridor like perfume, unexpected, disarming. And I had stood there in the shadows like a man watching something sacred. Something he had no right to want.I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I just
The Billionaire Broken Bride—Married To My Enemy. CHAPTER 32: Beneath the Surface of Joy.
MICHAEL'S POVThe soft scrape of my pen across the ledger was the only sound in the study. Numbers blurred. Contracts waited patiently for my signature like obedient dogs at the foot of a distracted master. But I couldn’t focus.Not really.My attention kept drifting to the open door to the faint echo of a voice that had somehow slipped past my defenses and carved out a quiet space inside me I hadn’t consented to share.Alessa.Just hours ago, she’d floated down the hallway in a yellow dress like she was sunlight stitched into fabric, weightless, alive, untouchable.There had been something unshackled about her. Something honest. And for a moment, the mansion didn’t feel so cold.She had spun softly, a little laugh slipping past her lips like it didn’t need permission. Her joy had filled the corridor like perfume, unexpected, disarming. And I had stood there in the shadows like a man watching something sacred. Something he had no right to want.I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I just
The Billionaire Broken Bride—Married To My Enemy. CHAPTER 31: Weight of an Unspoken Shift.
MICHAEL'S POV The day had started like every other soul-draining, end-of-the-month grind.Meetings bled into each other. My inbox exploded with reports, investor summaries, forecasts, legal approvals, and enough red flags from junior departments to give a less patient man a stroke. Seventeen companies still fell under my hand, three less than before, thanks to Alessa. But power didn’t spread thinner just because you handed off a slice. It simply demanded you watch everything twice as hard.By noon, the pressure in my skull had settled behind my eyes. Ethan noticed.“Sir, should I drive today?” he asked as we left the last meeting. The city buzzed behind him like a hive of lawsuits and deadlines.I barely glanced at him. “No. Just take me home.”Home. That was all I wanted. Silence, solitude, and maybe the chance to breathe without someone asking for my opinion.The car ride back was still, blessedly still. I didn’t speak. Neither did Ethan. He knew better.When we reached the estate
The Billionaire Broken Bride—Married To My Enemy. CHAPTER 30: The Sun Came Back.
ALESSA'S POV I didn’t come out of that room until nightfall. Not because I couldn’t but because I didn’t want to.Even when Disha knocked, even when Michael’s mother softly called out my name, even when his father tapped gently and asked if I needed food, I answered with the same words every time:“I’m fine.”It wasn’t true, but it wasn’t a lie either.I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t anything.I was just full. Too full.Full of something I hadn’t felt in a very long time, joy. The real kind. The kind that pushes water into your eyes and doesn’t stop there, but spreads through your skin, your stomach, your chest. Like heat from the sun after years of waiting in the cold.My mother was coming back.Alive. That was all I needed.I lay on the bed for hours, eyes wide open, fingers gently pressed against my lips like they were sealing in all the emotion. I traced the ceiling with my gaze, not really seeing it, just feeling the space around me.Remembering. Breathing. Existing.I
The Billionaire Broken Bride—Married To My Enemy. CHAPTER 29: Weight of Her Silence.
ALESSA'S POV I couldn’t stop crying. Even when I wanted to. Even when Michael’s mother leaned in and whispered tightly, “Alessa, please… stop crying. Everyone is watching.”I wanted to stop. I truly did. But the tears just wouldn’t listen. They had lived in me for far too long, trapped behind forced smiles and quiet nods.I had swallowed too many over the years, buried them under survival, clenched through pain, held my breath through every storm.Now… I was breaking. Not quietly. Not gently. But with every piece of me unraveling.Every breath I took brought another memory I had tried so hard to forget. The first time my mother collapsed, and I had no money to take her to the hospital. Standing in the rain, soaked to the skin, begging a clinic receptionist to let her in even though I couldn’t afford it. My father’s voice calling me his little light, how that light died with him. The smell of earth the day we buried him, that cheap, wet, heavy mud that clung to my shoes and nev
The Billionaire Broken Bride—Married To My Enemy. CHAPTER 28: Rhythms of Grace and Thunder.
ALESSA'S POV Every morning in the Astor mansion had its own quiet rhythm.The sunlight always crept in gently through the tall windows, filtered by white curtains that fluttered just enough to remind me the world was still breathing outside.I’d wake up before most people, not out of obligation, but out of habit. Comfort mattered to me. Soft robes. Warm socks. Silence.And when I headed downstairs, it wasn’t because anyone asked me to. No one in this house expected me to do anything. But I liked being there, in the kitchen, where life still felt simple. Human.Helping out was never a chore. It was never about proving myself. No one dared treat me like help. Not the staff. Not the guests. Not even the family.Because I wasn’t either of those things.I was Alessa Harter Astor.Wife. Heiress of the Astor mansion.And though I often flinched when people used that full title, I couldn’t deny it. That was who I had become by fate and by force.I preferred to keep things quiet. Gentle. Simp
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