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Chapter Eleven

last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-05-16 20:11:24

The private terrace glowed under soft golden lights as the sun dipped below the horizon. Waves gently kissed the stilts beneath the villa, creating a peaceful rhythm that contrasted sharply with the storm inside Marilyn’s chest. She sat across from Raymond in the emerald-green dress he had chosen for her. The silk clung to her body in a way that made her feel both elegant and exposed.

Dinner had been served — fresh seafood, fine wine, and delicate desserts — but Marilyn could barely taste any
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  • WRONG ROOM    Chapter Fifteen

    One Monday morning, the villa didn't feel any different. The cold silence and distance between them still filled the air. Everywhere felt like no one was inside. It was like nothing was breathing. Marilyn was already dressed and ready for the day when Raymond knocked once on her bedroom door and stepped inside without waiting for an answer. He was wearing a crisp grey suit, looking every inch the powerful CEO again. “We’re returning to headquarters today,” he said, his voice flat and businesslike. “I have an important meeting that has been scheduled for weeks. The current meetings here have been postponed. Be ready in ten minutes.” He didn’t wait for her reply. He turned and walked out, leaving the door open behind him. Marilyn stood still for a moment, feeling the sharp shift in his attitude. There was no teasing, no lingering looks, no possessive words. He had gone back to being the cold, distant billionaire everyone feared. Strangely, the change hurt more than she expected.

  • WRONG ROOM    Chapter Fourteen

    The rest of the day passed in a cold, professional blur. Marilyn threw herself into work with quiet determination. She attended meetings, took notes, and offered suggestions when asked. Raymond treated her with perfect courtesy in front of the investors — polite, distant, and completely in control. But the warmth that once lingered between them the day before was gone. In its place was a careful, icy professionalism that left Marilyn feeling strangely hollow. By evening, she already made her decision. After dinner, which they ate in near silence on the terrace, Marilyn gathered the clothes Raymond had bought for her and moved them into the second bedroom. The room was just as beautiful as the master suite — soft lighting, ocean views, and a large comfortable bed. Still, it felt empty. She changed into a simple silk nightgown and slipped under the covers. For the first time since arriving on the island, she was completely alone. The silence pressed in on her. As she lay there sta

  • WRONG ROOM    Chapter Thirteen

    The next morning, the tension between them became thicker and thicker. Marilyn barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she remembered Raymond’s words, his touch, and the way her body always betrayed her. She couldn't think about anything else, without thinking about him and his words. After freshening up. She dressed for the day and moved out. She found him on the terrace, drinking coffee while reviewing documents. He looked calm and composed, as always. But she was done pretending. “Mr. Stewart,” she said, stepping outside. Her voice was firmer than she felt. “We need to talk.” Raymond looked up, setting his cup down. “Go ahead.” Marilyn took a deep breath. “I appreciate the clothes and everything you arranged. But you keep crossing lines I never agreed to. You touch me like I belong to you. You say things that make me feel like I’m your property. I don’t like it.” She continued before he could speak. “What happened between us two years ago was a mistake. It was my first

  • WRONG ROOM    Chapter Twelve

    The morning light filtered softly through the glass walls of the villa, casting a golden glow across the room. Marilyn woke up slowly, her body still heavy with the tension from the night before. She had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt Raymond’s presence beside her — warm, powerful, and dangerously close. She turned her head and found the other side of the bed empty. Relief and disappointment mixed strangely in her chest. She got up, chose a modest but elegant cream blouse and navy pencil skirt from the new wardrobe, and pinned her long red hair into a neat bun. When she stepped into the living area, Raymond was already dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, reviewing documents on his tablet. “Good morning, sir,” she said politely. Raymond looked up, his gaze sweeping over her slowly. “Good morning, Marilyn. Did you sleep well?” The way he said her name — without the usual “Miss Oxford” — felt too intimate. She nodded, avoiding his eyes. “Well enough.” He s

  • WRONG ROOM    Chapter Eleven

    The private terrace glowed under soft golden lights as the sun dipped below the horizon. Waves gently kissed the stilts beneath the villa, creating a peaceful rhythm that contrasted sharply with the storm inside Marilyn’s chest. She sat across from Raymond in the emerald-green dress he had chosen for her. The silk clung to her body in a way that made her feel both elegant and exposed. Dinner had been served — fresh seafood, fine wine, and delicate desserts — but Marilyn could barely taste anything. Her mind kept returning to the walk-in closet filled with clothes she had not asked for. She set her fork down and gathered her courage. “Mr. Stewart,” she began, keeping her voice steady, “I appreciate the gesture with the clothes and everything else. Truly. But I don’t like it when someone makes decisions for me without asking. I could have gone out to buy what I needed myself.” Raymond leaned back in his chair, watching her with those piercing blue eyes. A faint smile played on his

  • WRONG ROOM    Chapter Ten

    Marilyn stood motionless in the center of the luxurious ocean villa, arms wrapped tightly around herself. The full weight of her situation finally hit her. She had come to work with nothing but the clothes on her back and her small black bag. No suitcase. No extra outfits. No underwear. No toothbrush or skincare products. Nothing for what could easily become several days on this island. The thought made her chest tighten with anxiety. Raymond stepped out of the master bedroom, hands tucked casually into his pockets. He took one look at her and read her discomfort perfectly. “You’re worried about your lack of luggage,” he said, his tone calm and direct. “Don’t worry. I’ve already made arrangements.” Marilyn blinked, stunned. Arrangements? Before she could ask for details, he continued. “I have a few matters to attend to,” he told her. “I’ll be back before dinner. In the meantime, relax and get comfortable with the villa.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked out. The

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