เข้าสู่ระบบSelene had not slept well.The glow of the bedside lamp was still on, her phone clutched in her hand as if gripping it tightly would keep the unease at bay. Her manicured nails tapped against the glass screen, restless, impatient.The email she’d received in the early hours still sat at the top of her inbox—You’re not the only one watching her.It should have terrified her. And for a moment, it had.But terror quickly gave way to something else—anger.Because the real knife in her chest hadn’t been the anonymous threat. It had been the phone call she overheard downstairs. Rowan hadn’t come home until dawn. His driver had dropped him directly at the estate, and Selene had padded to the hallway, expecting him to come up to their room.But he hadn’t. Instead, she had caught fragments of his voice through the heavy doors of his study. Tired, raw, low. And then, Marcelline’s name.Selene hadn’t needed to hear more. He had been with her. Again.The thought made her chest constrict, bile ris
The office was dark except for the golden glow of the desk lamp. Marcelline stood by the window, sipping wine, her posture regal even in solitude. The city stretched below her like a sea of glittering stars, indifferent and cold, much like the mask she wore so effortlessly.She had dismissed her staff early, she needed silence, clarity. The day’s summit replayed in her mind: Rowan’s simmering presence, Maxwell Gluten’s smirk, the suggestion that Odette Holdings would shine brighter if Adair Corporation steps down a bit.Her lips curved faintly. Let Rowan stew in that.But her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock. Not the hesitant tap of an assistant, but firm, deliberate.Marcelline’s brow arched. Few people dared disturb her at this hour.The door swung open before she could even mutter a word and Rowan strode in.He didn’t knock again, didn’t wait for permission. He entered as though the room still belonged to him, as though she still belonged to him. His coat was unbuttoned, t
The air outside Marcelline’s office was still tense when her assistant appeared at the door, she was about to knock when Marcelline just opened the door.“Miss Odette, we are having the meeting now” she said and Marcelline nodded, her other assistant following behind her. She opened the door to find a bowed posture of a man who commanded authority.“President Adair—” her eyes darted nervously around anything but Rowan, sensing the heavy atmosphere, “the joint investment summit begins in fifteen minutes. The other executives are already gathered.”Rowan, still leaning against the edge of her desk, straightened slowly, eyes narrowing as he turned to look at the assistant.“Joint investment?” he asked to be sure.“Yes.” the assistant replied nervously. Was she planning to exempt him from this? How come he didn't know anything about this? He thought.The assistant turned to leave. Rowan’s jaw clenched as he followed.The grand boardroom at the summit venue gleamed with polished mahogany a
Morning sunlight spilled faintly through the curtains of Rowan’s mansion, but inside, the air was stale, thick with unspoken words from the night before. Rowan had not returned home after storming into Marcelline’s office, and the silence of his absence pressed down like a weight.Selene Vale stirred in the wide bed, eyes fluttering open. Her first instinct wasn’t to look for Rowan—she’d grown used to his cold, late nights, his excuses, his meetings—but to reach for her phone.She unlocked it, expecting the usual flow of flattering messages, social invitations, or gossip to distract her.But what she found made her breath hitch.One new email. No subject line. No sender listed—only a string of jumbled characters.Curiosity prickled. She tapped it open.Inside was a single PDF attachment. And a line of text in the body:“You’re not the only one watching her.”Selene frowned, unease creeping up her spine. With trembling fingers, she opened the file.Her screen filled with documents. Scr
“You’re not walking away from me that easily, Marcelline.”She blinked once, pen poised above the paper, then set it down with infuriating grace. “Rowan,” she said coolly, as though acknowledging a business associate, not the man she’d spent nine years married to. “Dont be dramatic. It makes you look… desperate.”His jaw clenched. He said standing upright. “Don’t play with me. You think you can just throw divorce papers at me and vanish into thin air? That after nine years of marriage, you can just, just disappear?”Marcelline leaned back in her chair, the corner of her lip curving ever so slightly. Not a smile. Not warmth. Something sharper. “We've talked about this. I didn’t vanish. I walked out. You just never thought I would.”The air between them crackled. His fingers twitched at his side.“You don’t get to decide when it ends,” he snapped.Her brows lifted, mocking. “Oh? And you do? Nine years, Rowan. That was our deal. Nine years, and I go. I’ve only kept my end of the bargain.
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







