Lahat ng Kabanata ng The CEO'S Little Wife Has Three Personalities : Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

"Wake up, wake up, dammit!" The voice slammed into Claire’s consciousness like a storm cracking open the sky. Sharp, brimming with fury, which echoed in her mind. "Calm down, Scarlett," another voice responded, gentle and soothing, like a calm stream after a thunderstorm. "I’m sure she’s just tired from being sick. Have you forgotten she was drenched in the rain the other day?" Claire stirred, her brow twitching as she tried to wake up. Scarlett, on the other hand, wasn’t having it. "Sick? Oh please, Mia. She’s not tired from being sick. She’s tired because she spent the whole damn night screwing Ethan while we were blacked out. I can smell him all over her. How the hell is that fair?” That did it. Claire's eyes suddenly flew open. The morning light streaming through the curtains felt too bright, almost accusatory. She pushed herself upright with trembling arms. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she tried to make sense of what she had just heard—felt. "...Mia? Scarlett?" she w

The basement was suffocating. No! It's more than suffocating. Thick, damp air clung to the cracked concrete walls like mildew, heavy with the stench of rot and rust. A single flickering lightbulb dangled from the low ceiling, its weak glow casting long shadows across the floor. In the far corner, barely visible in the gloom, a woman was chained to the wall—her wrists bound high above her head, ankles shackled to rusted iron bolts drilled into the floor. She didn't move. She hadn’t moved in hours... Maybe days. Her hair, once a soft chestnut brown, had long since turned gray, matted into tangled clumps that hung in greasy ropes around her bruised face. Dirt caked beneath her fingernails. Her clothes—if they could still be called that—were tattered scraps clinging to weathered skin. Her frame was skeletal, her lips dry and cracked. She looked dead. And yet... she breathed... Barely. A cruel laugh rang from near the stairs. She had heard that taunting voice several times. “S

George's office was a perfect reflection of him—calm, controlled, and lined with order. Tall bookshelves towered over leather-bound folders and glossy awards, and the decor spoke of efficiency and discipline. Claire stood in the center of it, feeling oddly like a storm in a museum. George moved behind his desk and looked at her, arms crossed loosely. “This is where the real work happens,” he said, offering her a smile. “Not as flashy as Ethan’s corner office, but I like to think I get more done here.” Claire offered a wry grin. “It’s... intimidating, not gonna lie. But in a good way.” Mia’s voice hummed in her mind, calm and quiet. “He’s gentle beneath the surface. I can feel it.” Scarlett snorted. “He’s a walking rulebook. But I’ll give him this—he hasn’t thrown us out a window yet. I kinda like him.” Claire laughed softly to herself. George noticed but he didn’t comment. He knew Claire and her two girls might be having a conversation on their own in her head. Instead, he w

Claire sat quietly, her hands folded in her lap, but her mind raced. The murmurs in the room faded into the background as Mia's voice echoed in her head. “They never would’ve noticed,” Mia said. “Not unless someone spelled it out for them.” “It makes no sense,” Scarlett said, her tone sharp. “Where is all that money going? That’s a massive leak. How do people in power miss something that obvious?” Claire’s eyes skimmed through the files in her hands again. She flipped another page and then another before her gaze stopped. A recently logged invoice. Her brow furrowed. She raised her hand slightly, uncertain if she should interrupt again. Then she pushed the hesitation aside. “Can you tell us more about this invoice?” she asked, holding up the page. Her eyes were still glued to it, the confusion visible on her face. The room turned quiet again. The executives looked at her, irritated. A few exchange-side glances. Frowns deepened. Who did this girl think she was? Yes, she proved

The city never slept, but tonight it was different. More chaos across the whole nation. Headlines flashed on every news ticker downtown, each more sensational than the last: “Richardson Corp Rocked by Scandal.” “CEO’s Nephew Exposes Multi-Million Dollar Fraud.” “Uncle Ousted — Who Really Holds the Power Now?” Claire sat curled up on the far end of the couch in Ethan’s house, her knees drawn to her chest as she stared at Ethan intently. Every few seconds, her phone buzzed with news alerts. She didn’t have to read them to know they were all about him. Everything was chaos now. And Ethan... he was bearing all the clash back of his decision. He stood by the counter, still in his suit from the earlier board meeting. His tie hangs loose, his glass of whiskey untouched on the counter as he stares into space. His phone lay face down, though it kept vibrating with incoming calls and he wasn't ready to talk to anyone at the moment. He wasn’t speaking. He hadn’t, much, si