The CEO's ex-wife is Untouchable

The private dining hall was suffused with golden light, its chandeliers casting fractured shadows across the long table. Candles flickered, their flames bending in the faint current of the air-conditioning, and crystal glasses filled with ruby-red wine glowed like liquid fire.It should have been a celebration.Nine years of marriage. Nine years of duty. Nine years of silence.Instead, the air was thick, brittle, suffocating.Rowan Adair sat at the head of the table, as always. Cold, immaculate, untouchable. A man sculpted from stone, whose every gesture carried weight. To his right sat Selene Vale, dressed in crimson silk that clung to her every curve. She leaned toward him, her perfume thick and cloying, her smile calculated to command attention.And to his left, as tradition dictated, sat Marcelline. The lawful wife. The silent wife. The woman who had built this ritual for nine years straight. Tonight her gown was understated, silver-gray, chosen not to dazzle but to dignify. Her h

Rowan Adair had not known silence could be so loud.The hum of the office tower, the muted chatter of his executives, the tapping of keyboards, it all grated on him as if nails scraped against glass. He sat at the head of the long mahogany table in Adair Corporation’s boardroom, but the numbers on the screen blurred together. Growth projections, quarterly revenue, international deals, normally his oxygen. Today, nothing stuck.What replayed instead was the look on her face.Marcelline’s calm smile.The envelope sliding across the table.“Divorce papers.”His chest tightened.Across from him, the CFO cleared his throat nervously. “Sir, regarding the Gapore deal...”“Push it,” Rowan cut him off sharply.The man blinked. “P-Push? But the investors are...”“I said push it.” Rowan’s voice snapped like a whip. The room went dead quiet. He rarely lost composure, but today… every word tasted bitter.From the corner, Selene shifted delicately, legs crossed, her perfume wafting through the spac

The ballroom of the Imperial Crown Hotel glittered like a treasure chest cracked open. Crystal chandeliers rained golden light, violins hummed softly in the background, and the most powerful people in the city paraded in gowns and tailored suits worth small fortunes.At the center of it all, Rowan Adair walked in with Selene Vale hooked on his arm. Cameras flashed, socialites whispered. Rowan’s name was synonymous with dominance in business—every step he took drew attention, every slight movement echoed authority.Selene basked in the attention, her ruby gown clinging to every curve, lips painted the same shade. She leaned in to whisper as they crossed the carpet.“Tonight is ours, Rowan. Everyone will know you belong to me now.”Rowan barely acknowledged her, his expression carved from stone. His gaze scanned the room, his mind elsewhere. No one knew that the name Marcelline had not left his thoughts since the night she walked away.It was their first gala without her waiting for him

The sound of porcelain shattering echoed through Rowan’s penthouse.Selene stood in the middle of the living room, her chest heaving, shards of a broken teacup glinting at her feet. Her carefully styled curls were beginning to slip loose, her cheeks flushed red from fury.“You’re still thinking about her!” she shrieked, voice cutting like glass. “Don’t lie to me, Rowan. You still want Marcelline, don’t you?”Rowan looked up slowly from the file he had been reading. His expression was unreadable, his posture too calm for the storm in front of him.“I don’t want her,” he said evenly.But the words were too sharp, too controlled. His silence before them—his hesitation—was enough. Selene’s eyes widened, catching that flicker of something he hadn’t meant to reveal.“You—” she stumbled back, her voice trembling. “You didn’t even deny it properly.”Rowan exhaled harshly, pushing away from the sofa. “Enough, Selene. You’re imagining things.”“No! I see it!” Her voice cracked, the carefully co

Rowan didn't sleep.The envelope lay sprawled across his desk, mocking him. Every document, every photograph, every signature tied back to Selene. She had been moving pieces long before he ever realized, weaving her own narrative beneath his nose.He had trusted her. Believed her loyalty was simple, straightforward. Now? He wasn’t sure if the woman he returned home to each night was his partner… or his greatest liability.By dawn, he still hadn’t touched his bed. His reflection in the glass wall of his study looked older, wearier. For the first time in years, Rowan Adair looked like a man losing control.Selene was waiting in the dining room, dressed impeccably in a cream silk robe, as though she had sensed something brewing. She rose when he entered, her smile strained.“You didn’t come to bed.”Rowan dropped the envelope onto the table between them. “Care to explain?”Her eyes flicked down, recognition flashing before she masked it. She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Really, Ro