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Lyara's POV
Veröffentlichungsdatum:
30.05.2026 00:02:29
Aktuellstes Kapitel
The Wife He Couldn't Erase I need Time
Adrian’s POV.The heavy oak door closed behind me with a thud that echoed through the empty foyer. Silence. The kind that lived in Cross mansion for five years after Lyara left. Cold marble under my shoes. Portraits on the wall watching me like judges.I hated that sound. Hated how my footsteps bounced off the high ceiling and came back to me. Hated how dropping my keys on the console table sounded like a gavel.Footsteps. Fast. Too fast.“Adrian? Where are you coming from?”Lila’s voice came from the living room. She stepped into the hallway, phone in one hand, the other clutching the hem of her dress like she was trying to hold herself together. The chandelier light hit her face and made her look pale. Her eyes scanned me. Suit wrinkled. Tie loose. Shirt untucked on one side. I must’ve looked like I’d been through a war. Because I had.She’s not supposed to be here. That was the first thought. The second was worse: I don’t have the energy to lie tonight.I walked past her to the s
The Wife He Couldn't Erase Her arrival
Lyara's POV.The air in the conference room tasted like iron and old cologne. I stood just outside the double doors, one hand resting lightly on the brass handle. Inside, voices argued over my company like I wasn’t the one who owned the shares. Like I was still a ghost in the dark. My pulse didn’t spike. It never did in rooms like this. It just… steadied. Cold. Clear. The way it always did before I walked into fire. Through the narrow gap I watched them. Directors in navy suits leaned toward each other, whispering, eyes darting to the empty presidential chair at the head of the table. Sweat gathered at Chairman Phillips’ temple despite the AC blasting at 18°C. Kane, his attack dog, moved from seat to seat, bending down to mutter something in each director’s ear. Phillips’ message, no doubt. And then there was Drake Vance.He sat three chairs down from the head seat. Alone. Legs crossed, phone in hand, thumb scrolling like the fate of Ashworth Heights was a boring stock ticke
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
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