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Lyara's POV
Veröffentlichungsdatum:
29.05.2026 14:53:25
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The Wife He Couldn't Erase Adrian's POV
Adrian's POV Speechless. I was speechless.The panic choked me. It sat on my chest like a stone, heavy and cold, squeezing the air out of my lungs one breath at a time. I had no words. No leverage. No ground to stand on. For the first time in my life, Adrian Cross had nothing to bargain with. No money. No company. No pride.This is what it feels like. This is what it felt like for everyone I bankrupted. For every supplier I squeezed. For every man who stood in this exact spot and realized the game was over before he even started playing.The thought made me sick. Karma didn’t knock. It walked in wearing black sunglasses and jasmine perfume.Ethan sighed. Stood. Walked around the sofa. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t need to. His presence alone was a command. “Sit down, Adrian. Let’s discuss the rest like civilized men.”Like civilized men. The phrase twisted in my gut. Civilized men didn’t sign away their legacy with a shaking finger on a tablet. Civilized men didn’t beg ex-wives to un
The Wife He Couldn't Erase Adrian's POV
Adrian's POV.The lady stopped three feet away. Close enough that I caught the glint of her diamond studs. Close enough that the jasmine became overwhelming.“Take them off, Lyara.” Ethan’s voice was quiet. But it cracked through the silence like a whip.The world tilted.Lyara.The name hit me like a fist to the chest. I snapped my head up, gaze flying to her face before my brain could catch up.She slid the sunglasses down with one finger. Slow. Deliberate. The lenses caught the light as they came away.And then I saw her eyes.Cold. Sharp. Gray. The same eyes that used to watch me sleep. The same eyes that went dead the evening she packed her bags and walked out of my life.My breath stopped.Lyara Lane.Not a stranger. Not “the president.” Her. The woman I’d spent five years trying to erase. Standing in front of me now, more powerful than I remembered. More stunning than I deserved. The suit, the posture, the silence; all of it screamed control.The shock hit first. Pure, white-ho
The Wife He Couldn't Erase Adrian's POV
Adrian's POV.8:17 AM.I wasn’t angry, I had to wait. Anger was clean. Anger made sense. This—this gnawing in my chest, this rehearsing of words that wouldn’t come—was worse.The engine was off. The documents were signed. My signature glowed on the tablet screen, permanent and stupid. Electronic ink. Like that made it less real. Less irreversible.You’re doing what’s needed. Father doesn’t need to know. Claire would lose her mind. This is the only way to keep Cross Industries from bleeding out.I said it again. I still didn’t believe it.Maxwell was late. His text said “car trouble, 5 mins.” That gave me time. Time to stare at the empty parking lot. No Bentley. No Audi. Just my car, and the morning light hitting glass like a warning.Neither Ethan nor the president is here yet. You still have time to walk away. To call your father. To tell Lila.My thumb hovered over my phone. I didn’t press it.A car rolled in. Black Audi. Smooth, silent. Ethan stepped out, suit sharp, no folder in h
The Wife He Couldn't Erase Lyara's POV
Lyara’s POV.The audio file ended with the elevator doors closing.Heather’s voice was clear. Adrian’s was lower, rough around the edges. He sounded tired. He sounded like a man who’d run out of options.I hit pause. Then replay. Then pause again. On the third playthrough, I caught it; the way his voice cracked on “Fine.”I leaned back in my chair and let out a short, sharp laugh. It didn’t sound like me.Heather looked at me over the edge of her tablet. “You’re enjoying this.”“Not enjoying,” I said. I scoffed and let my back hit the chair, arms spreading across the armrests like I owned the whole building. Which I did. “Just… confirming.”“Confirming what?” She asked, cautious.“That he’d follow me,” I said. “Even when it’s not me.”Heather frowned. “What does that mean?”I sat forward, elbows on the desk. My feet crossed under me, ankle over knee. Confidence. Unbothered. The exact opposite of how my pulse was acting. Because downstairs, Adrian thought I was cold. Dismissive. Busy
The Wife He Couldn't Erase Lyara's POV
Lyara’s POV.The intercom buzzed twice before Heather’s voice came through, tight. “Adrian Cross is downstairs. No appointment. He’s asking to see you.”The red pen in my hand froze mid-stroke.Shock hit like ice water down my spine. For half a second my chest locked up and I forgot how to breathe. Adrian. Downstairs. Now. After five years, no calls, no warnings, just his name dropping into my office like a bomb.I didn’t look up from the contract. Couldn’t. If I moved, Heather would hear it in my voice. The ink bled into the paper where the pen stopped, a dark, ugly blot spreading across the clause I’d just been reading.“Adrian Cross,” Heather repeated, slower this time. Like I hadn’t heard. Like she knew I needed it said twice to make it real.I paused. My pulse was suddenly loud in my ears, thudding against my throat. The blot kept growing. I stared at it until it burned into my vision.Then I forced the pen to move again. Sharp, deliberate. I finished signing my name with a fl
The Wife He Couldn't Erase Adrian's POV
Adrian POV.The door groaned when I pushed it open. Hours of silence had made the hinges stiff. Hours of sitting in that room, staring at the ceiling, had made my throat feel like sandpaper.“Adrian?”Claire was on me before I took two steps into the hallway. Her arms locked around my middle, tight enough that I felt the tremor in her shoulders. She smelled like vanilla and salt. She’d been crying again. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into my shirt. “For yesterday. I shouldn’t have—”“Stop.” The word came out harsher than I meant it to. I pulled back just enough to look at her. Red eyes. Swollen lips. She looked ten years younger and ten years older at the same time. “It’s fine,” I said. “None of it was your fault.” Her brow furrowed. “But I said—”“You said what was true,” I ran a hand down my face. “Every word. It hurts because it’s true.” She flinched. She stepped back and eyed me, her gaze dragging from my shoes to the knot of my tie. “You’re dressed. You’re going to the of
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