Semua Bab Abandoned by Ex, Married to His CEO Brother: Bab 251 - Bab 260

ConradEnough was enough.I sat at my desk, the tension in my jaw so tight I thought something might snap. The whole mess with Karah’s team still clung to me like a bad stench, and no matter how many times I replayed Leonard’s words in my head, it didn’t make the sting any better.The sheer audacity of my mother still boiled in my blood. I had worked for months to secure that deal, prepped the product line myself, and even sat through Karah’s unbearable entourage of managers and stylists with that stupidly charming smile on my face. And for what? So my mother could yank it all from under me because it didn’t fit into her masterplan?I wasn’t a boy anymore. And if I didn’t push back now, then it wasn’t just my mother I needed to be worried about. It would be everyone under me; every manager, every executive, every assistant. They would all see that Conrad Remington was a puppet, dancing to the strings of the queen upstairs.I had to act fast, before this narrative solidified and before

ConradMy mother's secretary—Teresa or Theresa or some other name I’d never bothered to learn—jumped to her feet the moment she saw me storm down the hall like a man possessed. “Sir! Director Remington, your mother is currently in a meeting. If you’ll just give me a—”I didn’t stop walking.“—minute, I’ll go in and let her know you’re here—”I think she reached out to stop me. Poor girl, she probably thought her job description included throwing herself in front of angry men. I turned my head just slightly, and the glare I gave her must have spoken volumes, because she shrank back a step like I was about to physically barrel through her.The door to my mother’s office was closed, but I didn’t knock, but threw it open hard, the brass handle slamming into the wall with a thud that was immensely satisfying.She wasn’t alone. Seated across from her was none other than Simon Hughes, her personal lapdog with a law degree. He turned at the sound of the door, brows lifted in calm surprise, an

SusannaIt couldn’t be her. Of course it wasn’t my Liliana.That’s what I told myself at first, clutching the paper with trembling fingers, my pulse pounding so violently I thought I would split open. Liliana Grace, it read. But surely that was someone else. Some poor woman who happened to share the same name. Not my Liliana, not my sister. Not the only person I had left in this wretched world. Not the only person who I thought could stand by me. But the doubt had already rooted deep in my gut. I flipped quickly to page thirteen like the small line on the front had instructed, my fingers slipping against the thin paper. I don’t know what I expected to see. I only knew that every part of me already knew.An expanded headline stared at me in bold, mocking me. “BODY BURNT BEYOND RECOGNITION FOUND IN CITY ALLEY. IDENTIFIED AS SOCIALITE LILIANA GRACE. SUSPECT AT LARGE.”I couldn’t breathe as I read every word of that segment. I read and reread the phrases that stood out like bullet holes

SusannaFlorence gave a short nod at my offer. “That’s generous of you,” she said, tone unreadable. “But I can’t abandon my shift at the hospital.”I gave a small scoff, still wiping tears from my cheeks. “I’ll take care of it. The hospital wouldn’t dare refuse me, not with who I am. That’s not your problem. Just answer the question, do you accept my offer? Do you agree to be hired by me for the day?”There was a short pause before she said quietly, “I’ll help you in any way I can, Mrs. Remington.”Her voice radiated how sincere she was, but I still gave her a brittle smile, the kind meant to hurt. “No haggling?” I asked, my tone mocking. “You’re not going to negotiate your pay like a proper hire?”This time, Florence didn’t flinch. She simply shrugged in that maddeningly stoic way of hers and said, “I trust you won’t embarrass yourself by underpaying me.”The laugh that tore from my throat was jagged, broken in half by a sob that wouldn’t stay swallowed. “Of course not,” I whispered.

Susanna The rest of the day passed in a blur, my body moving without any real sense of direction, as if I were navigating through someone else’s life. The moment we arrived at the funeral home, I shook off whatever fragility lingered inside me. I couldn’t afford to be soft now. If no one else would bury my sister with dignity, then I would. I would see to every last detail myself. A man in a navy-blue suit approached me at the entrance, his voice professional. I told him who I was and why I was there. He nodded, gently ushering Florence and me into a side office that smelled of lavender and paperwork. I reached into the handbag Marceline had sent and retrieved several bundles, peeling off notes without batting an eye. I paid for the burial plot, the casket, and the funeral clothing, though I had no idea how they would be able to get it on Liliana's corpse. Every transaction chipped something off my soul, but I didn’t stop. The man, I think his name was Marcus, led us down a hallway