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Chapter 82 — The Game
Huling Na-update:
2025-07-14 06:15:30
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While Marrying Mr. Steele Chapter 86 — Storm Damage
"Amelia… please. Can we talk?"I stopped with my hand on the door.Ethan stood behind me in the hallway, his tie loosened, his voice softer than I expected. The storm roared outside, wind whistling down the corridor, rattling the shutters like they could come off any second.“Not now,” I said, without turning.He stepped closer, his cane clicking faintly. “You shouldn’t walk around with your hand like that. It looks—bad. You’re still bleeding through the bandage.”“It’s fine,” I cut in.“I just want to—”“Ethan.” I finally turned my head, just enough for him to see my face. “Go.”He stood there a moment longer, his brow furrowed like he was about to protest, but the words never came. Eventually he sighed and stepped back.The shutters groaned again as he walked away.****Dinner was already underway when I slipped into the dinning room.The long table was bright with candles and gleaming cutlery, but the guests looked weary, restless, like they’d all run out of polite small talk hours
While Marrying Mr. Steele Chapter 85 — Dangerous Liaisons
I wrapped my hand in a towel from the bathroom, but the bleeding didn’t want to stop.The fabric was already soaked through by the time I stepped into the hallway, the white turned patchy red. My palm throbbed in time with my heartbeat, little waves of heat crawling up my arm. My cheeks felt just as hot, though the corridor itself was chilly, lit by a faint row of sconces.I didn’t even know where I was going at first.But my feet carried me toward the back of the house, where the faint hum of machinery and the smell of cleaning products told me I’d stumbled into the service wing.The doors here were plain, utilitarian. The walls hadn’t been painted in years. A faint strip of fluorescent light buzzed overhead.I pressed the towel harder to my hand and scanned for anything that might resemble a first aid station. A closet, maybe. A little red box. I just wanted something clean to press against the cut before it got worse.When I pushed one of the heavy swinging doors open, I stopped sh
While Marrying Mr. Steele Chapter 84 — The Breaking Point
I pressed my shoulder into the door until I heard the latch click. Then I turned the key and slid the chain into place, every little metallic sound somehow louder than it should have been.For a moment I just stood there, leaning against the wood, palms pressed flat against it as if I could somehow keep the whole world outside. My breath came fast and uneven. My bag lay forgotten by my feet where I’d dropped it.The quiet in the room rang in my ears.I stumbled to the bed and sat down hard, clutching the edge of the mattress with both hands. My fingers curled into the fabric as my eyes blurred. I didn’t even bother wiping at my cheeks when the first tears came, hot and angry.I’d kept it together long enough down there, long enough to pack my bag, to sit in that room and pretend I didn’t see her watching him. But now the air felt thick, stifling.I sobbed into my hands until my throat felt raw.After a while I got up and went to the little sink, turning the cold tap and splashing my f
While Marrying Mr. Steele Chapter 83 — No Way Out
POV: AmeliaThis wasn't the getaway I'd pictured.The storm had come back overnight, louder, meaner, as though it was as sick of this place as I was.By the time I made it downstairs to the lounge, rain was lashing the tall windows in furious sheets. Wind rattled the shutters so hard the guests flinched whenever they caught. The air smelled damp and sharp with coffee.I chose a corner table near the wall, my small carry-on at my feet. Already packed.I’d packed as soon as it was light, my hands shaking over each sweater and dress as though folding them properly would somehow fold all this chaos away. I kept telling myself we’d leave today. We’d get out of here. Surely.Now I wasn’t so sure.The staff behind reception moved fast, their voices low and tight as they fielded calls, checked clipboards. Near the windows, two women in tailored jackets murmured about cancellations. The sound of it pressed in on me.I clasped my hands in my lap and kept them there, fingers digging into my palm
While Marrying Mr. Steele Chapter 82 — The Game
POV: Sienna (her pov)“You’re playing a dangerous game, Sienna.”Marco’s voice was, almost bored, as he leaned back in the leather chair by the window. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, the amber catching the dim light, and watched me as I closed the suite door behind me.I kicked off my heels, smiling faintly. “I’ve always been good at games,” I said, my tone light, teasing. “And don’t pretend you don’t like it.”“Like it?” His brow arched as he brought the glass to his lips, pausing just long enough to smirk faintly at me. “No. But I do enjoy watching you ruin yourself.”“Oh, Marco,” I sighed dramatically, stepping out of my jacket and draping it carelessly over the sofa. “You’ve been saying that for years. And yet here I am. Still here. Still… worth keeping.”He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head, though his dark eyes narrowed just slightly. “You’re broke, Sienna.”“Temporarily,” I corrected smoothly, crossing to the little bar cart without looking at him.“You’re broke
While Marrying Mr. Steele Chapter 81: The Rumor
Ethan's pov The general kitchen went quiet the second I stepped in.Two guests — a man and a woman I vaguely recognized from the reunion dinner — stood near the espresso machine, their heads bent close. The woman’s hand froze halfway to her coffee cup as soon as she saw me, and the man quickly looked away, pretending to stir his sugar.I kept my stride steady, though every muscle in me tightened.“Morning,” I said evenly as I passed.“Morning,” they murmured back, but neither of them looked me in the eye.My jaw flexed as I poured myself a coffee. Behind me, their hushed voices resumed almost immediately.And every so often, I could feel their eyes on my back.Marco found me in the hallway outside the kitchen a few minutes later. He didn’t even bother with his usual greeting — just grabbed my arm and steered me toward his room, which was empty.Marco was a proud bachelor.“What the hell is this about?” I demanded, pulling free as the door shut behind us.Marco leaned against his desk
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