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Chapter 72:The Art of Starting Over
Date de publication:
2026-08-07 00:37:24
Dernier chapitre
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Sunlight streamed through the living room windows, casting a warm, golden glow across the hardwood floor. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, the kind of day that should have been peaceful. Instead, my chest felt like it was trapped in a hydraulic press.Leo was in the kitchen humming softly to himself, wearing a fitted dark t-shirt and grey sweatpants, preparing a marinade for afternoon lunch. Since he had gotten back from Chicago, he had been extra attentive, trying to bridge the emotional distance that had inexplicably crept between us. Every time he smiled at me, every time he casually reached out to brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear, a toxic cocktail of guilt and panic threatened to swallow me whole.I was sitting on the edge of the sofa, staring blankly at my phone, when a sharp, authoritative rap echoed from the front door.My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it would bruise my sternum. I didn't even need to check the peephole. There was only one man in
married for show Chapter 93: Smoke and Shadows
The morning sunlight cutting through the vertical blinds of the executive office felt less like dawn and more like an interrogation lamp.I sat at my desk, staring blindly at a quarterly architectural projection sheet, my coffee growing ice-cold beside my hand. Last night with Leo had been a masterclass in psychological torture. I had managed to fake a migraine, thanked him for the lemon tarts, and retreated to my bedroom under the guise of needing absolute rest. He had kissed my forehead, entirely gentle and oblivious, while I lay awake for hours staring at the ceiling, feeling like a complete fraud.And now, I was back here. In the lions' den.The heavy oak door of Julian’s inner office swung open. He stepped out, wearing a sharply tailored navy suit, his shirtsleeves turned back just enough to reveal the strong lines of his wrists. But the moment his dark eyes landed on me, his stride faltered.The cold, detached CEO mask vanished instantly.He crossed the distance between ou
married for show Chapter 92: Breaking the Glass
The heavy oak door of the executive office clicked shut, and the sound of the deadbolt sliding home felt like the final execution of my self-control. The firm was mostly empty, the rest of the staff long since dispersed into the rainy Seattle evening. But inside Julian’s office, the air was thick, heavy, and practically vibrating with unspent electricity. We had spent the entire day playing our assigned roles—distant, professional, coldly detached across a vast expanse of polished mahogany. But the memory of that board meeting, of the way he had dismantled Arthur to protect me and the secret smile we had shared, was a live wire running straight under my skin. I turned around, clutching a stack of final audit reports to my chest like a shield. Julian was standing by the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, backlit by the sprawling, rain-smeared lights of the city skyline. He had already discarded his suit jacket, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his sleeves rolled up to reveal t
married for show Chapter 91: The Weight of Secrets and Steel
Chloe's POV For seven days, the world outside our locked doors ceased to exist. If anyone had told me that the cold, terrifying, intimidating architect Julian Thorne could be tender, obsessive, and entirely consumed by a woman, I would have laughed in their face. But the past week had rewritten every rule I thought I knew. We had agreed—by mutual, desperate necessity—to keep whatever this storm was between us a tightly guarded secret. At the office, we were still CEO and assistant, separated by miles of polished mahogany and clinical professionalism. But the moment the sun went down, the walls dissolved. We had spent the last week stealing hours in the shadows. He had slipped into my apartment twice through the back gate, wrapping me in heat and midnight whispers that made me forget my own name. We cooked simple meals in my tiny kitchen, laughing when the garlic burned because Julian was too busy pressing kisses into the crook of my neck to watch the pan. We talked about books,
married for show Chapter 90: Rain, Regret, and Reckoning
Chloe’s POV Saturday afternoon was a sensory sanctuary of soft tulle, shimmering sequins, and absolute, glorious chaos. Maya and I had commandeered the VIP fitting room at one of the upscale boutiques downtown. Racks of dresses—midnight blue, champagne gold, emerald silk—lined the walls, and the air smelled faintly of expensive hairspray and teenage excitement. Maya had already tried on four different gowns, spinning in front of the three-way mirror with dramatic sighs while I critiqued the silhouettes with the seriousness of a seasoned fashion editor. "Okay, but this one," Maya declared, emerging from the dressing room in a sweeping, midnight-blue halter dress that caught the light like starlight. "If this doesn't make the student council president regret everything, nothing will." I laughed, clapping my hands from the plush velvet sofa. "It’s stunning, Maya. Truly. You look like you’re about to walk a red carpet, not a high school gym floor." She beamed, striking a pose b
married for show Chapter 89: Colliding Worlds
Julian's POV The glass-and-steel expanse of the downtown art gallery was supposed to be a sanctuary of high-end indifference. I was there because a major acquisition required my presence, standing beside a municipal board member while sipping sparkling water I had no intention of drinking. My mind wasn't on the architecture exhibits or the overpriced minimalism hanging on the walls. It was anchored to a desk three floors beneath mine, locked in a silent war of attrition with a woman who had spent the last two weeks treating me like a ghost. Then the air in the gallery shifted. It wasn't a sound that drew me in; it was a frequency. A familiar, bright ripple of laughter that cut straight through the low hum of polite conversation. My head snapped toward the grand staircase. She was standing on the second-tier landing, bathed in the cool wash of overhead track lighting. Chloe. She looked breathtaking—and it infuriated me how instantly my body betrayed me, my pulse spiking int
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