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Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Ride Home
Fecha de publicación:
2026-09-01 20:41:08
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Too Late Mr. Hawthorne I Already Married Your Rival Chapter Thirty: The Silent Drive
Elena’s POVThe rain hit harder the moment I stepped out from under the canopy.Cold drops struck my hair, my shoulders, the side of my face. I kept my head down and followed the dark shape of him through the downpour, bag clutched tightly against my good side. His black shirt was already darker across the shoulders from the rain. He moved without hurry, as if the weather were simply another thing that rearranged itself around him.He reached the passenger side of the black car first and opened the front door.I stopped two steps away.Sitting beside him felt too close. Too intimate for a first day, for a boss, for the man who had just caught me with one arm and then asked if I had been staring.“I’ll sit in the back,” I said.He turned his head slightly. Rain slid down the side of his face. One corner of his mouth lifted in that same faint, unreadable almost-smile he had given me under the canopy.“No.”The single word was calm. Final.I blinked. “What?”“You’re sitting in the front.
Too Late Mr. Hawthorne I Already Married Your Rival Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Ride Home
Elena’s POV“Careful.”The word was low. Calm. Spoken close enough that I felt the faint warmth of it against the side of my face.I stayed frozen for a single, stretched second, the rain still hammering the pavement beyond the canopy, the hand around my waist still holding me upright with effortless strength. My pulse hadn’t slowed. It thudded hard against my throat, against the place where his fingers pressed through the thin fabric of my blouse.I shifted carefully, testing the ground beneath my heels, and turned my head.I expected a security guard. A stranger who had happened to be walking past. Anyone else.Instead I looked up into the unreadable face of Mr. Nik.My breath left me in a short, startled exhale.He was standing so close that the rain misting in under the canopy had already begun to darken the shoulders of his black shirt. No suit jacket. No tie. Just the fitted long sleeves pushed slightly at the wrists, the fabric stretched cleanly across the breadth of his
Too Late Mr. Hawthorne I Already Married Your Rival Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Hand That Caught Me
Elena’s POVThe clock on the corner of my screen finally read past six.I sat back in the chair and let the quiet settle over me for the first time all day. My good shoulder ached. The sling felt heavier than it had that morning. Every muscle in my neck had drawn itself into a tight, stubborn knot from leaning too far to the right for hours while I worked with one arm.I had survived.Somehow.I shut down the computer, stacked the remaining files into neat piles the way Claire had shown me, and slid my company phone into the side pocket of my bag. Gathering everything with one hand took longer than it should have. The bag strap kept slipping. I had to brace the bottom against my hip and use my teeth once to hold the zipper while I closed it.When I finally stood, I glanced toward the double doors at the end of the corridor.Still closed.No light spilled from underneath. No sound. I didn’t know if he was still inside or if he had left through some private exit I hadn’t been shown ye
Too Late Mr. Hawthorne I Already Married Your Rival Chapter Twenty-Seven: My Impossible Boss
Elena’s POV“My office. Now.”The words hung in the air between us like a blade that had already been drawn.I stared at him.The same man from the plane. The same man who had closed his hand around my wrist when the aircraft dropped. The same man who had pulled onto the shoulder of the highway and looked under the hood of Samantha’s car as if he had all the time in the world. The same man who had known,without being told,that we were going to the Fairmont.And now he stood in front of me on the executive floor of Blackthorne Holdings, looking at me like a stranger who had simply been handed a name and a task.“Your office?” The question came out quieter than I meant it to.He didn’t answer. He simply turned and walked away.Long strides. Unhurried. Absolute.I stood there for half a second too long, the card still clutched in my good hand, the remains of toast somehow still present in the other, and then my feet moved because I didn’t know what else to do.Why did he know m
Too Late Mr. Hawthorne I Already Married Your Rival Chapter Twenty-Six: The Man in the Elevator
Elena’s POVBlackthorne Holdings rose against the skyline like something that had been designed to intimidate.Glass and pale stone. Clean lines. The kind of building that made expensive suits look ordinary.I stood on the sidewalk for half a second, still slightly breathless from the cab, the remains of breakfast still in my hand, and felt every inch of my rushed morning settle into my skin.I adjusted the bag on my good shoulder, squared what I could of my posture, and walked into the lobby.It was elegant in a way that made me feel immediately underdressed despite the navy blouse and tailored trousers. People moved with purpose. Receptionists sat behind a long, polished desk. Elevators opened and closed with quiet precision.Everything smelled like money and efficiency.I approached the nearest receptionist.She looked me up and down once,sling, slightly rushed hair, the napkin still half-crumpled in my hand,and her expression settled into polite skepticism.“Can I help you?”“I’m
Too Late Mr. Hawthorne I Already Married Your Rival Chapter Twenty-Five: A Bad Start
Elena’s POVThe first thing I registered was the light.Harsh.Sudden.Unforgiving.“Elena, wake up.”I made a sound that was more complaint than word and tried to pull the blanket higher. The sling made the movement clumsy, and my arm protested immediately.I ignored it.“Five more minutes.”“You don’t have five minutes.”“Then give me ten.”There was a brief silence.Then I heard the curtains being yanked open.Bright morning poured across the bed like an accusation.I groaned and turned my face into the pillow.“Samantha…”“It’s eight fifteen, young lady.”My eyes snapped open.“What?”I sat up so quickly that the room tilted. The sling pulled against my shoulder, sending a sharp flare of pain through my arm, but I barely noticed.“My interview…”“Not an interview,” Samantha corrected, already moving around the room. “Your first day.”The words hit me like ice water.“Oh my God.”I scrambled out of bed, one-handed and frantic. The blanket tangled around my legs, and I nearly fell.
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