All Chapters of Not His Wife Anymore: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The Carter Industries file sat open on the desk like a quiet accusation.Naya sat stiffly in the leather chair of Adrian’s study, her legs crossed tightly, her fingers digging crescents into her knees. The soft tick of the clock was the only sound in the room as she stared down at the damning letterhead.The words blurred as her mind spun.He defended him. All this time… he was working for Daniel.The door opened behind her.Adrian stepped in, rolling his cuffs back into place, his dark green eyes lifting to meet hers immediately. He froze mid-step when he saw her face.His eyes dropped to the file on the desk.Then back to her.His jaw tightened, just faintly, before he set his hands casually on the edge of the desk and leaned in."You’ve been busy," he murmured.Naya’s fingers gripped the arms of the chair."You worked for him," she said, her voice low and shaking. "You defended him."The silence stretched long.And then Adrian chuckled softly."Is that what you think?" he asked, st

"You’re well dressed..."Naya’s tone was light, but her hands twisted nervously in her lap as the sleek black car pulled to a stop in front of her building.She wasn't sure what she was thinking when she'd agree to go with Adrian as his plus one for his firm award dinner. Now she was here, and only now realising that paparazzi would be there as well.What would they think of her? Showing up with her lawyer? She braced herself mentally for the backlash as she smoothed down her dress."You’re beautiful," was Adrian’s smooth reply as he stepped out, his dark suit perfectly tailored, his tie the exact shade of midnight.Her stomach flipped despite herself.The driver opened her door, and she stepped out slowly, letting him take her hand as she stood. Her gown shimmered under the streetlights — a deep sapphire silk with a low back, daring but elegant, the one he’d sent over earlier."You like the dress?" he asked quietly, his lips curving just enough to show he already knew the answer."It

“Is this where you throw your glasses around and brood in the dark now?”Naya’s voice broke through the hush of the study before she even realized she was speaking. The words came out softer than she intended, carrying more worry than wit, but they still earned the faintest tilt of Adrian’s head in her direction.He didn’t answer.She hovered at the threshold, fingers brushing the wood of the doorframe, as her eyes adjusted to the dim. The only light came from the city beyond the glass walls, scattered and restless, making the room look even lonelier.Adrian sat in his chair at the desk, sleeves rolled up, his shoulders loose and defeated, his chest rising and falling like each breath cost something.Her eyes drifted lower and caught the dark streak on the floor. A shattered tumbler lay near his feet, amber liquid soaking into the wood. His hand still curled half-shut, streaked red where a cut ran across his palm.“You’re bleeding,” she said after a beat.He let out a low sound — not

Adrian’s POV)“Damnit, Naya…” My voice came out harsher than I meant, cutting through the ringing silence after her phone smashed into the wall. I crossed the room in three strides, my pulse pounding in my ears. “What the hell was that supposed to fix?”She was standing in the center of the living room, chest rising and falling too fast, her cheeks flushed, her hair loose and wild from where she’d run her hands through it. The broken glass at her feet from earlier still glittered faintly in the low light, like a field of tiny land mines.“It wasn’t supposed to fix anything,” she snapped, though her voice wavered. “I just— I couldn’t hear her voice one more second without—”She broke off, shaking her head. She wouldn’t meet my eyes, and I hated that more than the crash of her phone.I wanted to close the distance, to pull her into me until the sharp edges of her temper dulled, until her shoulders stopped shaking. But I didn’t move just yet.“You’re bleeding again,” I said instead, nodd

AdrianShe stood in front of the full-length mirror, one hand braced on the frame, the other sliding the last button of her blouse into place.I was supposed to be reviewing my notes for the meeting — strategies, points of attack, exactly how to bait Daniel without giving him ammunition. Instead, I was watching the slow, careful way her fingers moved, how the silk hugged her waist before disappearing into the waistband of her skirt.“You’re staring,” she said without looking at me, her tone dry.“Observation is part of my job,” I said, leaning against the doorframe.“This isn’t cross-examination,” she replied, smoothing her hands over her hips.“No,” I said, pushing away from the frame and crossing to her. “But I can still point out… discrepancies.”My fingertips grazed the line of buttons I’d just seen her do up, then drifted down the center seam of her blouse until they reached the skirt’s waistband. She let out a quiet breath — not a gasp, not surprise. She was expecting it.I step