All Chapters of The Playboy Attorney & His Arranged Wife: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

The first light of the Texas sun was a clinical, unforgiving white. It crept across the dark mahogany floors of the master suite, illuminating the scattered remnants of the previous night—Garette’s discarded shirt, Dianthe’s robe, and the heavy silence of a truce that felt more like a temporary ceasefire.Garette was already awake. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, fully dressed in a charcoal-gray suit, though he hadn't yet put on his tie. He was staring out at the horizon, a cup of black coffee in his hand, his expression unreadable. The vulnerability of the night—the way he had clung to her in his sleep—had been folded away and tucked into a dark corner of his mind.Dianthe stirred, the silk sheets rustling as she sat up. She felt the weight of his gaze before she even opened her eyes. When she did, she found the "Shark" back in his natural habitat."The car leaves for the Dairy Farm in forty-five minutes," Garette said, his voice devoid of the rasping heat from the night bef

The master suite felt cavernous. For the first time since she had been "relocated" from the guest wing, Dianthe woke up to the sound of nothing. No rhythmic breathing, no rustle of the financial times, and no scent of expensive sandalwood and espresso.Garette had left at five o’clock in the morning. A high-stakes corporate espionage case in Cambridge required his personal touch at the High Court. It was a hearing that might take days to finish. For the first time in their marriage, she felt an intense longing for his presence.Dianthe sat up, hugging a pillow that still smelled faintly of him. She hated the feeling. She should be celebrating her freedom—no cold glares, no biting sarcasm, and no suffocating possessiveness. Instead, she felt a hollow ache in her chest that she couldn't rationalize."It's just the silence," she whispered to the empty room. "I’m just used to the noise."But as she walked through the halls of the ranch, the silence followed her. She went to the Dairy Farm

The elevator doors slid shut just as Garette’s hand reached the sensors. He swore, a jagged, raw sound that echoed through the prestigious halls of the Cambridge firm."Garette, darling, really," the blonde woman—Elena Vance, a former supermodel turned high-society mogul—said as she stepped out of his office, adjusting the strap of her emerald dress. "It was just a hug. You’re being incredibly dramatic."Garette turned on her, his eyes flashing with a cold, predatory light that had made opposing lawyers tremble. "Get out, Elena. My contract with your estate’s case ended three years ago. If I see you in my office again, I’ll file a restraining order that will make your latest scandal look like a bedtime story."Elena Vance was shocked at his sudden outrage. Her eyes squinted. “Who was that woman, who just disturbed my plan of having Garette wrap around my arms at this very minute?” she thought, her stormy eyes watching the back of Garette as he stormed away from her.He didn't even wai

The elevator ride back to the hotel suite was as silent as a library with an old librarian with thick rimmed glass, pawning at any student who dare make a sound. Garette’s hand remained firmly on the small of Dianthe’s back, a possessive gesture that felt more like a protective shield than an embrace. The confrontation with Elena Vance had left a bitter aftertaste that even the finest vintage couldn't wash away.As the gold doors chimed and opened onto the velvet-carpeted hallway, Garette stopped.Standing by the door to the suite immediately adjacent to theirs was a bellhop, struggling with a mountain of designer luggage—trunks embossed with the unmistakable "EV" monogram. And leaning against the door frame, still draped in her cream-colored fur, was Elena.She was slowly peeling off her leather gloves, watching them approach with a triumphant, feline smile."What a coincidence," she purred, clicking her tongue. "It seems the city’s fine hotels are all fully booked except this one. T

The air in the suite was brittle. Dianthe stood before the full-length mirror, staring at her reflection. She wasn't the girl from the ranch today. She wasn't the nurse in scrubs. She reached into her jewelry case and pulled out the diamond ring Garette had bought her—the one she had called a "shackle." She put it there before she took a shower. She slid it onto her finger, the stone catching the cold Cambridge light like a weapon.Garette watched her from the doorway, his eyes dark and unreadable. He had seen her handle medical emergencies with ice in her veins, but he had never seen her look like this—composed, sharp, and dangerous."You don't have to do this, Dianthe," he said, though his voice betrayed his pride. "I can have security clear the garden.""No," Dianthe said, turning to face him. She smoothed the skirt of her tailored, deep-red dress. "You said it’s a war. In my village, when a predator comes to your door, you don't hide in the cellar. You show them that the house is